Just Friends

Chapter Two - Emerald Eye

Gavin agreed to keep my homosexuality on the down-low until I am ready to tell everyone at university.  Things have been relatively awkward between us since the first week, but I’m probably the cause of it - it might even be just in my mind. He seems to be indifferent - accepting even - of me, but I still think it’s quite lucky that our schedules don’t coincide so there is no way that I can be distracted by him.

I think I might be able to make it through the semester at this rate. I made a few girlfriends in my Chemistry class and we all met for some coffee last weekend on campus. Clarissa is really outgoing, and drop dead gorgeous with amazing blonde hair - and slightly generous body features. Sarah is a gem in and of herself. She loves makeup, and might just use a little bit too much, but she is truly a good person on the inside, regardless of how she might look on the exterior. Jamie is the “slut” of the group. She doesn’t stop talking about how many relationships she’s been in and her various sexual escapades, but she is a blast to be around, and I think that she might just be lying about some of them. At least I hold onto hope that she is. I only can hope and pray that they have “friend-zoned” me so I can tell them that I’m gay without any drama.

And there are still those nights, even a month into college, that I lay awake staring at Gavin from across the room knowing that he is living and breathing the same air as I.

“Please assemble your groups for review of the test. Be ready for it - it’s on Friday.” Mrs. Loch mumbled to the classroom after she finished completing the lengthy Stoichiometry problem on the interactive whiteboard. On command, Clarissa, Sarah, Jamie, and I put our desks in a square and began to work on a problem.

We sat there in silence because talking above a whisper was prohibited, and Mrs. Loch’s definition of whisper was quite strict. Sarah quietly, almost inaudibly pursed her lips before asking, “Number 25, did you guys get 7.19 moles of KMnO4?”

Clarissa gave a concerned look, but didn’t reply while Jamie nodded in concurrence. I quietly added, “but you have to round it to 7.2 moles because you only started with 2 sig figs. See here?” my voice inflection just got loud enough for Mrs. Loch to be apparently bothered.

“Quiet, please.” she warned the room with an icy stare that could freeze the very air vapor around us. After a few more seconds of silence the air broke out with a sharp laugh as wind blew in from the empty window in the corner of the room and blew papers into a boy’s face.

“Silent studying from here out!” our marvelous dictator of a teacher instructed. Speaking at this point would earn you an expulsion from her classroom for the following week; we weren’t even sure if she was allowed to do it, but nobody ever took the risk.

I finished a few more problems and looked at the analog clock so monotonously ticking, ticking, ticking for at least a minute. I don’t know if I was daydreaming or simply just zoning out, but I was brought back to reality by Clarissa as she tapped my shoulder and passed me a slip of paper:

I don’t know what I’m doing - help me tomorrow?

I scribbled on the sheet in reply:

Sure, library at 11:00? In the morning, if you can handle waking up before sunset. ;)

Clarissa’s most fatal flaw was her inability to wake up. She had been late to World History several times, a class I had luckily dodged due to my results on my Advanced Placement testing in high-school. Clarissa was traditionally one of the smarter ones in our study group, but for some reason Stoichiometry was holding her back, apparently. Though both she and I had already taken a few credits of Chemistry in high-school, so it was a surprise that she would have such an issue with one of the most basic concepts that was being taught.

Mrs. Loch hacked and coughed for several seconds as she stood, her stout and cold figure rising like a drugged-groundhog climbing out of it’s den. She walked to the door, opening it and muttering, “dismissed,” as she walked out. A bitter woman, indeed.

The room broke out in laughter and conversation as we all rose from our seats in earnest. Clarissa gave me a nod - so our study session was a go. I turned to leave, and out of the corner of my eye I noticed a boy sitting by the window. The boy who had paper fly in his face was still sitting in the room and his legs were shaking, seemingly with stress and apprehension.

I approached him and sat across from him, crossing my legs - one of the many gay stereotypes that I fit perfectly into. I looked at his expression: concerned, sick even, and waited to ponder what to ask, “Are you going to be okay?”

“U-uh, yeah, j-just a panic attack,” he stammered. I could relate, having OCD was something I kept hidden relatively easily because I had a minor case of it, but occasionally it all built up into an extended moment of chaos and panic.

“I’ll stay here until you are feeling better,” I promised. It only took him three or four minutes to calm down and stop shaking. His breathing became more stable and he looked in my eyes for the first time. I looked into his eyes in return, green pools of perfect emerald, and it took me a second to realize that I was staring, “let’s go?”

We walked to the door and I started off to the right in the same instant he shifted to the left, colliding with me and sending his calculator clattering to the ground. We both bent down to pick it up and our hair just brushed by one another’s. I handed the hunk of plastic and glass to him as he again looked into my eyes, and for a second of near-intimate, split-second thinking, I thought we were about to kiss.

“Uh, thanks,” he spat out in an obvious hurry as he turned on a heel and took long, smooth strides around the bend and out of my view.

As I walked the other direction and back outside to the East Campus I couldn’t help but wonder if I had found yet another distraction from my life and studies. My focus was running thin, and my heart was driving on a turbo setting as I plodded step by step back to my dorm room.