Beside

52 - fellowship (part 2)

"Jellybean, why do you go to the doctor so much?"

"Paps says they're making I'm super strong, like a superhero."

"Can I come next time to protect you?"

"You already do, Fox. With your ring pops!"

ｃｈｒｉｓ

Fox lets me tug him along as we move down the corridor, peeking into rooms and letting out little whispers as we discover each one. It's a ghost town, little museums with sculptures, desks and old woods.

We come across a massive lecture hall, the seats all empty, each row lined up in perfect order. I tow Fox as the door clicks shut behind us, leaving us alone in the soft, dust-flecked moonlight filtering in through the tall windows.

Fox glances around. "I think we just stepped back in time."

I wish that was true. Maybe we could rewrite history.

I hesitate, a thousand memories unfurling like pages of an old book flicking through my mind. A thousand days, a thousand smiles. The little girl who knew him better than anyone, and the boy who used to follow her, sneak out and look at the stars.

I let his hand go so he can explore the world—the one inside this room.

Fox heads straight for the mahogany desk at the front, running a finger along the edge. He walks around and finds himself lowering into the chair, kicking polished black shoes up, easing back. "If I'd been sitting over there and you were here, would you have looked at me if I was all nerdy in the front row? Because when I say I was a high school geek, I say it with my chest."

I walk down the aisle and take him in. That sandy mused hair, his skin, the white shirt rolled up to his elbows, the cut of his shoulders. I see all that, but that wasn't his question. It's about what's beneath, and I've seen all that too, so I can't help the smile that spreads as I shuffle closer. I wish I'd been able to go through high school with him. "Yes. You're very look-at-able, Fox."

"If I had a dollar for each time someone said that." He lets out a dramatic sigh. "I'd have one dollar."

I eye the faded chalkboard behind him. The corners are chipped, worn down from years of erasers brushing over them. I could write a hundred stories in chalk in this room. I touch the blackboard, making a little smiley face in the dust.

"Thinking about becoming a professor?" he asks.

My smile is wistful. "Imagine standing up here, talking about something you're passionate about, having everyone just... listen. It'd be kind of magical."

"I'd listen, Chris. Happily."

I swallow hard. "Yeah?"

"Of course. Maybe that's why you're drawn to books. You get to have those moments without the chalk dust."

"I don't mind the dust. Proves I'm real." I write a line at the bottom of my smiley. "See?"

𝒸𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝒽ℯ𝓇ℯ

Fox is quiet for a moment, and then, with a gentleness I don't expect, he's behind me, grazing my elbows, holding me. "I don't think you realize it, but you've already left a mark."

I don't think he realizes what he's doing to me, how close he is, how far he feels.

His fingers touch the soft fabric of my dress just under my chest, grazing it gently. His lips are at my ear. "I like this."