Jensen had always been quiet, the type of person who sat in the back of class with his hood up, scribbling in the margins of his notebook. Fifteen, with a head full of messy brown curls and a thousand thoughts he’d never say aloud. He liked it that way—silent, invisible.
But then, there was Billy.
Billy, with his wide, infectious grin, always leaning back in his chair like he owned the room. He wasn’t the loudest in the group, but he had a way of making people feel comfortable, like they’d known him forever. Everyone liked Billy. Even Jensen, though he’d never admit it.
The two had been in the same classes since they were kids, but they couldn’t have been more different. Jensen was all sharp edges and distance; Billy, all warmth and easy laughter. But now, in sophomore year, they were in the same English class, assigned as partners for the group project on "The Outsiders". Jensen had groaned internally when Mr. Tate read off their names together. He wasn’t sure how someone like Billy, with his perfect smile and effortless charm, could understand someone like him.
"Hey," Billy greeted casually after class, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. “Looks like we’re stuck together for this thing. Mind if we work at my place?”
Jensen looked up, startled that Billy was even talking to him, let alone suggesting they hang out somewhere outside of school. He stared at him for a second, then quickly muttered, “Uh, yeah. Sure, whatever.”
Billy didn’t seem to notice the awkwardness or, if he did, he didn’t care. He just smiled that same easy smile. "Cool. Meet me at my locker after school?"
Jensen nodded, and Billy shot him a thumbs-up before disappearing into the hallway crowd.
---
The end of the day couldn’t come soon enough, and when it did, Jensen found himself standing by Billy’s locker, feeling out of place. He watched as Billy joked with his friends, his laughter ringing through the hallway, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Jensen shifted awkwardly, wondering why Billy had chosen to talk to him like they were friends.
“Ready?” Billy asked, suddenly turning to Jensen, who hadn’t realized he’d been watching the whole time.
“Uh, yeah,” Jensen mumbled, pulling at the sleeves of his hoodie.
The walk to Billy’s house was short, but for Jensen, it felt like miles. He wasn’t used to being around people like this. It made him nervous, made him feel like he didn’t belong. But Billy, for all his social ease, didn’t seem bothered by Jensen’s quietness. Instead, he just kept talking, filling the silence with stories about his basketball team and his little brother who kept stealing his shoes.
When they got to Billy’s place, it was exactly what Jensen had imagined—warm, welcoming, a little messy. The kind of house that always smelled like fresh cookies and had kids’ drawings stuck to the fridge. It was the opposite of Jensen’s place, which was always too quiet, too neat.
Billy kicked off his shoes and motioned for Jensen to follow him upstairs. His room was surprisingly simple—just a bed, a desk covered in notebooks and a couple of old basketball trophies on the shelf. It wasn’t anything special, but it felt… comfortable. Like Billy himself.
“So, uh, what do you think we should do for this project?” Jensen asked, dropping his backpack on the floor and sitting on the edge of the bed.
Billy shrugged, sitting cross-legged on the floor. “I dunno. Maybe something about the whole ‘outsider’ theme. Kinda fits, right?”
Jensen snorted softly. “Yeah, for some of us more than others.”
Billy raised an eyebrow but didn’t press. “We can make it cool, though. Like, show how being different isn’t a bad thing. You down?”
Jensen looked at him, surprised that Billy got it—like, *really* got it. For a moment, he wondered if maybe Billy wasn’t as perfect as he seemed. Maybe he had his own stuff going on that he didn’t talk about.
“Yeah,” Jensen said quietly. “I’m down.”
They worked for a while, tossing ideas back and forth, and for the first time in a long time, Jensen didn’t feel like he had to hide. He still didn’t talk much, but when he did, Billy listened, really listened, like he cared about what Jensen had to say. And that felt… good.
Hours passed, and soon the sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow through Billy’s window. They hadn’t finished the project, but neither of them seemed to care. It was quiet now, the comfortable kind of quiet, and Jensen found himself glancing at Billy, wondering why he’d never noticed how nice it was to be around him.
“You know,” Billy said suddenly, his voice soft, “you’re not as quiet as people think.”
Jensen blinked, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”
Billy smiled, that same warm, easy smile. “I dunno. I just mean… you’ve got stuff to say. I’m glad I’m getting to hear it.”
Jensen didn’t know what to say to that, so he just nodded, feeling something strange and new stir in his chest. Maybe this partnership wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe Billy wasn’t just another face in the crowd. Maybe, just maybe, this was the start of something neither of them had expected.
