loser (stenbrough)

Seven

"hey! hey- um, bill?"

i looked away from my notebook, visibly irked that somebody interrupted me. just at the sight of the guy made me immediately want to rip his eyeballs out. sure, he wasn't richie. but he was close enough to richie to be a good substitute.

at first kept silent, only realizing now that he had said my name. he looked like some sort of businessman, all smart and professional. something told me he wasn't- not a lot of businessmen knew my name. or weren't balding. then again, i didn't know a lot of businessmen.

raising my eyebrows, i stared at him without the slightest idea what he could've wanted. not a friend of my dad's, he was way too young. the boy had curly hair, a blue button up shirt, and thin lips. god, he was actually kinda cute. was this bad? i didn't know how old he was. if i was crushing on an older man, well, it wasn't really my fault, now was it?

"you, uh- you're bill." he looks at me as if to confirm this. "right?"

i nod my head, trying to only use non-verbal signals for as long as this conversation would allow me. he took a seat on my bench, a little far away for my liking. but hey, i still didn't know who he was. suddenly becoming aware that my notebook was wide open for him to read, i closed it, turning to face him. i doubted he could read my chicken scratch anyway, but i wasn't taking any chances.

he took a little while to speak again. i tried to read him as he struggled with his words, but his face wasn't telling me much.

"i'm... stan. stanley. uh-" he said, setting down a book between us. he laughed nervously, probably put off by the fact i wasn't speaking, and then held out his hand for me to shake. his face was red, but mine was probably too- i wasn't sure if it was the heat or how nervous i was.

my heart stopped in my chest. i smiled and gave him a weak handshake, not trying to be rude- this guy was my... crush, and best friend, after all- but i was dying. dying in the sense that i couldn't get any words out, couldn't make sense of what was happening. i had too many questions in my head, how did he know who i was, why were we meeting here, did he follow me after i overheard richie, did he like me, did he love me, did he think i was cute, was i giving him a bad first impression? i made eye contact and tried to stop thinking so much. maybe thinking was good, actually, and it was only the overreaction and panic that was bad for me.

"so," he started, after letting my hand go and resting his own hand on his leg. "do you want me to leave you alone? you looked like you were getting down to business." he smiled and looked down at my notebook. i must've looked confused, because he motioned down to it with his head. "i mean, in there. uh. are you mute? sorry, you just never told me before, unless you did and i uh... i forgot. did you? god, i'm- i'm really sorry."

resisting the urge to laugh, i smiled. knowing he was just as nervous as i was felt pretty reassuring. it was also cute. maybe meeting him in person wasn't so bad, not as terrible as i was thinking or making it up to be. for a few seconds i considered the idea of telling him i was actually mute, but i knew he'd catch me in a lie one way or another.

"no, not m-muh-mute. just don't l-luh-l-like tuh-talking." i scratched my neck, feeling sweat drip down my back. i hoped he'd understand just from my stutter alone.

"oh," he said immediately, not put off by the stuttering at all. at least not visibly. "well," he smiled, looking down, making me smile as well. stanley was way cuter than i could've ever imagined. "that's fine. it was really nice to finally talk to you, you know."

his choice of wording made me suddenly feel bad for blowing him off so many times before. what had i been fearing? stanley not liking me? stan being ugly? i had totally forgotten why i avoided him at this point, but now that it sounded like he was making his leave, i wanted him to stay.

"um, y-yeah. nuh-nice t-tuh-tah-t-tal-talking to y-you, tuh-t-too." i hated myself. why did i say that? there were a million other sentences i could've made, and i chose the one that made it sound like i was fine with him leaving. i wasn't. i wasn't fine with him leaving at all. he'd wanted to meet me for so long, and the second we did, he wanted to leave. yet i wanted more.

stanley took his cue and stood up. maybe i made him uncomfortable. shit. i started to feel way worse, what if he never talked to me again? us finally talking in person could have made him stop liking me. and maybe, instead of me avoiding him, he'd always avoid me. start making excuses. maybe our conversations over snapchat would cease entirely.

"okay." he gave me one last smile. "have a good day, bill."

he started to walk away, and without knowing it, he made me love him. he, too, made me feel horrible in so many ways. my eyes lingered on him as he walked, as he became smaller and smaller, the distance between us growing.

once he was out of sight i stared down at my lap, the yellow composition notebook resting in its place. a little to my right, there sat his book.

i smiled. that book meant we would be meeting at least one more time.

one last chance to redeem myself.