Firsts and Lasts- Kliensen

First Sorry

Thanks for continuing to read!! I'm pretty sure I fucked up the PSAT... anyone else?

-19 years old-

---Jared---

I should say sorry to Evan.

I should go up to that gorgeous man shelving books. Hi. Remember me? I'm the asshole from your highschool years and I'm in love with you.

Maybe not that last part.

Evan. You look ravishing. Beauteous.

That's no way to get someone's attention. Especially someone who most certainly does not want to talk to you. Or see you, ever again.

I could chuck a bathbomb at his head. They're for me, but for Evan, I'd cross every line.

"Sorry, do you, do you need- can I help you?" Oh shit. I've been standing here for too long, and now...

I should run. But his voice. I haven't heard that voice in so long and I forgot how special every fucking word was in that voice. Is.

And here's the thing: he doesn't know it's me because he hasn't even looked up. He's still watching his fingers on the hem of his shirt, and then he stops. And starts again.

"I don't know, can you?"

Jared, you stupid, stupid fucking idiot.

Evan's head shoots up (wow, he looks even better) and his eyes instantly grab me and won't let go.

"You're Jared. I mean, sorry, you know that, I'm- well- you- I'm Evan. From. From high school. And, and before, you know, before high school."

"Yeah, I remember you." Not like you've taken each of my thoughts and invaded them until they're all yours. "How'd you know it was me?" I wear contacts now. I swear no one would recognise me.

I almost look undercover- that's how different it is. Except the rest of me looks the same, but whatever.

"Eyes. Your- the brown spot." Evan shifts from foot to foot, not uneasy but fully anxious. Back-and-forth, back-and-forth, back-and-forth.

"I'm sorry. For the entirety of high school. All of it. Literally." I don't know why I said that, and I also don't know what to say now. Abort! Change the subject! "Hey." I wave.

---Evan---

Okay, I feel as though Jared threw several things at me and ordered me to juggle them just watch me struggle to handle them, but I don't even care because I can't help staring at him, because he's really still amazing, all him.

I'm sorry for high school and immediately after, hey as if he didn't say anything and how- what am I supposed to do, if I respond, because both would be weird and I'm at work but I'm not sure what to do because I'm at work-

"Sorr- I'm- me too. I'm sorry too. For the, for making you do the Connor Project and, and everything."

I think- no, I know- Jared makes me anxious, but wow, I can't help but fumble everything I practiced to make myself normal.

Jared drops his smirk for a second and my mind pounces on how his eyes- no glasses now- widen and how his throat contracts as he swallows. "Yeah. Okay."

A small ding sounds, which means that we're closing soon, and I wrench my gaze away from Jared, or, more specifically, his face without glasses, or all of him without- whatever it was before he decided to be... kind to me. I feel like he's treading on eggshells around me, like a tap might shatter me and he doesn't want me to clean up the mess and I don't- I'm not delicate.

I'm normal.

"H-Hey." I almost say hi. Jared smiles, unnaturally genuine,and I wave with my wrist, not my elbow.

I'm so- I'm better normal, because I'm, well, normal, but Jared- I wish he wouldn't be so...

Normal.

XXX

It would be the last time in a long time either of them were something other than "normal".

Again, thanks so much for reading!! Who's read Red, White, and Royal Blue AND listened to Taylor Swift's London Boy?

                   -The Worst Writer on Wattpad