Spotlight on Nobody

- 11 -

~ song: Lava by Still Woozy ~

"Quand on pense à la France, on imagine des baguettes et fromages, des berets and le Tour d'Eiffel. Mais la France a beaucoup de choses à offrir."

It's easy to tune out Mademoiselle Moya, especially since I struggle to understand her in the first place. I sit in class next to Parker, leaned against his shoulder and watching the dog videos playing in the corner of his computer screen to try and stay awake. It's been four days since Leo and I laid in the grass in front of the Art Museum, and it's sad how quickly I've accepted my bland life yet again. I've been faithfully alternating between class, work, the library, lab and my apartment. But though I've accepted my mundanely normal life, I haven't forgotten last weekend. Far from it – whereas I am normally the model student, answering questions in lecture and submitting assignments a week before they're due, now I find myself daydreaming about Leo more than anything else. It's taken an absurd amount of strength to resist texting him all week after he typed his number in my phone before we parted Sunday night. He had hugged me fiercely before he left, promising to see me again, but not actually setting a date, leading me to believe it was just something he said to make people feel as though he really enjoyed spending time with them. The only thing I do more than daydream is internally yell at myself for even thinking about Leo in the first place.

Parker gently lifts my head off of his shoulder, and I realize that the lecture hall is almost empty.

"You okay Nell?" He is genuinely concerned. He's noticed how out of it I've been this week. Yet again I internally berate myself for allowing a boy to affect me this much.

"Yeah, I guess the stress of the end of the school year is really catching up to me." It's not a lie, I am stressed, but probably more stressed because my daydreaming has gotten in the way of my studying.

"You want to grab some food before your next class?" Ever since Ella told me she thinks Parker likes me, I've been reading way too much into everything he does. Is he trying to ask me on a date? Or is he just hungry? I realize that I am actually quite hungry, and besides, I told Ella I didn't believe her, so I'm sticking to it.

"Sure, I'm starving. I have some leftover pasta from last night in my fridge – wanna split it?"

We walk towards my apartment, only a few blocks from campus, Parker trying to convince me that he is better at singing than Ross. I vehemently disagree, claiming they are both equally terrible at singing. I empty the mailbox and we take the stairs up to the 4th floor, Parker arriving a full two minutes before me since he takes the stairs two at a time.

As we share a big bowl of pasta, I try to feel attracted to Parker. It sounds bad, I know, but it would be so convenient if I could like Parker. We live on the same block, have similar interests, plus he's attractive, smart, funny and good on the guitar. So when I think about him in any way more than a friend, why do I want to laugh, or puke? Sighing, I put down my fork and start sorting our mail into piles: Grace, Ella, Nell. Two fitness magazines for Ella, a letter from Grace's grandma, and pieces of random junk mail – cleaning services and brochures for nicer, and unaffordable, apartments across the river. My mind is wandering again, paying attention to neither the mail nor Parker, so I almost miss the small cream envelope with my name scrawled across the middle with blue ink. Curious, I rip it open. Inside the envelope is a slip of paper. When I flip it over, I see it's a ticket. To a Leo Griffith's concert. Tomorrow night. In Chicago. Parker is too absorbed in the bowl of pasta he has pulled over to his side of the table, and something tells me not to show him the ticket. Slyly, I push it back in the envelope, slipping it into my backpack. I text Leo.

Thanks for the ticket. Too bad I live 700 miles away.

My phone dings, but it's not a text back. It's an email, from United Airlines, with a plane ticket for tomorrow afternoon to Chicago. Part of me wants to be annoyed that Leo thinks I can just drop my life and fly to Chicago to see him perform, but the part of me that is freaking out that Leo bought me a plane ticket to Chicago to see him wins out.

I know you don't have that many friends, but usually people just                                           FaceTime if they miss each other.

Good thing I don't consider you a friend.

I hate texting because there's two ways that could have been read – he doesn't think we are friends at all, or he likes me more than a friend. For the past week I've been telling myself the latter cannot possibly be true, but who buys a plane ticket for someone they don't consider as a friend?