Focus - Logicality

Patton - Just A Guy

Yay, Patton finally gets a chapter! I hope y'all are liking the story so far!

We're on our way to the cafeteria for lunch, as always. I can't tell what Virgil and Roman are arguing about this time, but they've assured me once again that they're not mad at each other. It's just what couples do. I know that, of course--not that I've ever dated anyone--because feelings are pretty much my thing.

Anyone who knows me would agree that I'm emotional. I'd even go as far as saying that I'm a romantic--I've skillfully played matchmaker quite a few times. Even so, the constant arguing still stresses me out sometimes. Most times, actually, especially because I have nothing else to focus on and I care a lot about their well-being. If I believed it to be possible, then I would even say I cared too much. I fiddle with the strap of my backpack, looking from Virgil on my right side to Roman on my left, arguing across me like I'm not even here.

"Do you have to be so extra all the time, Princey?" Virgil sighs.

"What do you mean? I'm just my usual flamboyant self!" Roman proclaims.

"Exactly." He pokes Roman in the ribs. Roman slaps his hand away playfully.

Suddenly, I catch a flash of dark, gelled hair, black polo shirt and blue necktie. The harsh white beams of the fluorescent lighting reflect off of his glasses as he fights through the crowd, heading in the opposite direction of the lunchroom. A pang of warmth settles in the pit of my stomach: it must be the new kid. I'm pretty sure his name is Logan; I've seen him in my Astronomy class for the last few days. I think he's headed for the library. I don't know what comes over me, but I announce to Virgil and Roman: "I'll be right back. Save me a seat, okay?"

"Why don't we just come with you?" Virgil asks. "Where are you going?"

"I thought I saw the new kid heading to the library. Logan, right? I just wanted to see what he's doing there." I can feel my cheeks burning as Roman wiggles his eyebrows. "Not in that way, Roman!" I snap. "I'm sorry for raising my voice," I mutter.

"It's quite alright for you to express your feelings, Patton," Roman exclaims.

"Are you sure you don't want to?" Virgil asks gently in relation to my previous statement. "You're blushing up a storm."

"I didn't say I didn't want to. I just said I'm not going to because it's a bad idea. Besides, I'm pretty sure he's straight, so why try at a lost cause? I'm just making sure he has somewhere to sit." Virgil smiles at this; he appears to be mildly amused. In Virgil language, that means I'm probably missing something he deems to be extremely obvious, as well as either ironic or humorous. "What's so funny?" I demand.

"You said he's straight." Roman snickers.

"So?" I demand. "What's so funny about that?"

Roman puts a hand on my shoulder. "Have you seen the shit Remus put on Instagram? And on Logan's locker? Because I almost wish I hadn't."

"Language, Roman," I scold. "And no, I haven't."

"Let's just say that this kid is definitely not straight," Virgil says, shaking his head subtly. "I think you two would be cute together." I blush as I try to string to coherent thoughts together, but Virgil decides to be polite and pretend he doesn't see it as he continues. "It's okay, Patton; I can help. I'll come with you for moral support."

"Well if you're coming, I'm coming," Roman huffs.

"You can wait outside, Princey," Virgil sighs. "You're about as helpful as a bull in a china shop when it comes to delicate things like love."

"I'm great at love!" Roman protests. "I have you, don't I?" Virgil and Roman have a silent staring contest. Roman breaks first, but Virgil sighs and shakes his head.

"You can come, but only if you behave. You're waiting by the door of the library and saying nothing. This better not blow up in Patton's face because you can't think about someone other than yourself and keep your big-ass mouth shut. Do I make myself clear?" Roman stiffens his posture and gives him a sharp salute. Virgil swats at his arm and lets me reclaim my place between Roman and himself.

By the time we reach the library, the halls have started to clear out. We walk quickly in hopes of catching Logan, but to no avail. Roman mouths something to Virgil, who nods and begins to guide me towards the doors of the library.

"Are you sure about this, Virgil?" My hands are shaking.

"It was your idea. Besides, you'll be fine; I'll be with you the whole time. Now stop worrying. That's my job."

"You can't just s-stop worrying. C-Can you?" I stutter.

I am acutely aware of my sweaty palms. Does my hair look okay? Is it getting hot in here? Because I think it's getting hot in here.

"Technically, no." Virgil pulls me aside by the door of the library. "Look at me."

"I am," I inform him.

"I know." He puts his hands on my shoulders. "But really look at me. Look into my eyes." I look into his eyes. "Are you listening?" He stage-whispers. I nod. "He's just a guy. The worst he can do is say no, I don't want to sit with you. Then we can sick Roman on him to break all his bones." The color drains from my face. "Don't worry, Patton, I'm kidding. Now repeat after me: It'll be fine."

I take a deep breath. "It'll be fine."

"He's just a guy."

"He's just a guy." I exhale slowly.

"Do you feel better?" Virgil asks, removing his hands from my shoulders.

"Do you feel better?"

"Patton, you can stop repeating me now," he snickers.

"Patton, you can-- oh, sorry. I guess I do feel a little better." Virgil grasps my right hand and Roman takes my left. I squeeze their hands tightly; they must sense that the contact helps to ease my nerves because they don't say anything when our knuckles start to turn white. Impatient with us, Roman drags me, and Virgil by extension, into the library.

He's in the back left corner, Roman mouths to us. Virgil nods, but I'm too nervous to do anything but let them drag me along. I'm glad they decided to come; I'd probably have chickened out and left by now if I was on my own.

Once we're within fifteen feet of Logan, Roman and Virgil exchange glances then push me towards him. I take in his deep, intelligent brown eyes, angular jawline, and straight brown hair--so dark it's almost black--and immediately begin to panic, letting out a small whimper and tripping over my own feet, knocking into a cart piled high with books.

Next thing I know, my feet are flying out from under me, my forehead smacks into a shelf and I'm lying on the ground beneath a mountain of hardcover biographies. Let me be the first to say that hardcovers hurt a lot.