Complicated

Chapter 7

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(A/N Hi! I put a song that I like to listen to, and honestly, it reminds me of both Connor and Aarav. I'm introducing a few more characters next chapter. The first child's name is Amara Patel, the second is Arya Patel, and the third, aka the baby, is named Aditya Patel. This chapter will also be in Aarav's POV. Enjoy! - Leo)

I scribbled down notes, desperately trying to understand. How am I supposed to learn about the different types of atoms if your back is turned to me, and you're speaking like the world is going to end? Jesus, Mr., slow down.

I've always liked science. Not this class, and definitely not this teacher, but the subject itself. The concept. I like knowing what things are, how they work, and why they work that way.

Maybe, just maybe, I could become as famous as Michael Faraday, or James Lovelock. That would be a dream come true for me. I'm not sure about my family, though. They're very traditionally Indian, and even want me to marry a pretty Indian girl. My mother wants me to join the U.S. Armed Forces, explaining that if I can't learn how to shoot a gun, I'll never be able to find the millionth digit of pi.

What she doesn't know is that there's much more than one million digits of pi. There are 1.2411 trillion so far. I didn't have the guts to tell her that. She'd come for me then. I don't even know why I care about how many digits there are in pi. I mean, I also don't know why I've hated anything and everything related to LGBTQ+, but maybe it's because of how I was raised?

I believe sexuality is fluid. One day, you might see this pretty girl and think, 'Yeah, she's cute. I'd date that.', But other days you might see a guy and think, 'Wow, he's cute. I'd date that.'. See? Fluid. I stared at the clock. 2:15. C'mon, Aarav, just wait 30 more minutes. You'll survive. Although, I don't want to just survive. I want to live. God, that was weird. I sound like that guy from, what was it, Be Chill? Be More Cool? Be More Chill! That's got to be it.

My mother talks about it all the time, along with others. She's super into musicals and the arts in general. Her favorite is The Sound Of Music, which she forced the whole family to watch with her once. Honestly, I liked it. I liked it a lot.

My favorite song was probably Maria, or Favorite Things. Maria is just so different from the others. Everyone is so judgemental, and Maria is over here living her best life. Plus, Favorite Things is just a nice song. You can't help but smile when you hear Maria sing.

Great. Yet another secret I have to keep so people won't hate me. Would they hate me? For liking stereotypically feminine things? Would they call me a gay, like they call Connor? I think deep down I always felt bad for Connor. He didn't even get to come out on his own, instead, someone started to call him gay, and well, rumors flew like bullets racing through the air.

Who's gay? Wait, Connor?

Ew.

He's been looking at you in the locker room?

Wow, desperate much?

He's trying to talk to you and make friends like a normal human being?

I feel bad for you.

Just think about all the terrible crap he has to deal with on a daily basis. It's unfair. Why do I even care? It's not like it's my problem. I sounded like Ross. He always tries to make up with Connor when he thinks nobody's looking but makes fun of him with everyone else. I see it, though. I see a lot of things that other people don't see.

I've seen Ms. Calivay sipping tequila behind the school after hours.

I've seen Janiyah Bell cheating on her boyfriend at his own party. (They had been kissing pretty heavily and didn't try to hide it. And yet, nobody has told poor Micah.)

And, last but certainly not least, I've seen Connor Jones smoking.

It was last Friday when I walked behind the school, hoping to see Ms. Calivay and confront her, but instead, I saw Connor. He was sitting on the gravel, lighting a cigarette. He brought it to his chapped lips as he let go of the lighter, breathing in. He took it away, grey smoke descending from his lips.

I watched, motionless...

I suddenly jumped, the bell ringing loudly in my ears. I heard Mr. Graham's voice echo throughout the classroom. "Okay then, everyone, head to your lockers and leave from there!" People had already started to leave before he started speaking. He said the same thing every day.

I stood up, bending down to get my books from under my desk. I felt a sharp pain in my back and heard a crash. I groaned, looking over. "Hey, watch where you're going," I said as I looked over, seeing Connor hastily picking up the things he had dropped. His bag was slung messily over his shoulder. I picked up the books I was holding and sat them on the seat of my desk, grabbing a few of the things Connor had dropped. "What are you doing?" He asked, a bit surprised. Most people would either ignore him, insult him, or bully him. I know because well, I've seen it, and, regrettably, I've done it.

"Your books aren't going to pick themselves up, are they?" I said, and he got back to organizing them. "I didn't think so," I replied to his silence. I stood, and he stood just after me. I handed him his books and looked around, finding it was just Connor, myself, and Mr. Graham. He was at his desk, sorting through papers. I lowered my voice. "Hey. Let's meet up some time, okay?" I asked. "I want to talk, mainly about..." I hesitated.

"About the things I've said and done to you."