Two days later, on Friday, Josh failed to show up for our usual lunch meeting: usually he would arrive at the cafeteria before me, get his food, sit down, and wait for me. That day, however, he was nowhere to be found.

I sat down in our usual spot, but after ten minutes or so I was starting to get worried; I checked my phone, and saw that he’d sent me a message, which had gone unnoticed. It said, simply: Can’t make it today, eat without me.

I frowned, and sent a message back, asking if everything was okay.

Yes, everything’s fine, don’t worry, just got something to do, was the answer.

My frown deepened. Why would I worry? I typed out. What do you have to do?

Stuff.

I blinked at my phone in surprise. What was going on? Josh had never been so evasive with me; something was clearly wrong.

Stuff? I asked.

Josh’s reply came almost immediately: It’s fine, Emily. Everything’s okay. Don’t worry. Talk to you later.

I stared at the screen for a few moments, then typed, Okay, and sent the message.

Then I got up from my seat, leaving my tray on the table, and went off to find Josh.

It took a bit of searching: he wasn’t in his classroom, and he wasn’t in any of the usual spots which were hidden away from the teachers’ sight. In the end I asked around, and someone mentioned seeing him heading for the library; that’s where I found him, bent over a book, reading it attentively.

I hesitated before approaching him – he was clearly deep in concentration – but in the end my curiosity won over my discretion, and I walked towards him.

“Josh,” I said as I got close.

He looked up from the book in surprise. “Wilson!” he exclaimed. “What are you doing here?”

“I was worried and came to find you,” I replied. “What are you doing?”

He blinked, and hesitated for a few seconds. “Nothing,” he said.

I gestured to the book. “This doesn’t look like nothing,” I said. I leaned forward and peered at the text: though it was upside-down I could see something about pH, pOH, Lewis acids…

“Are you… Are you studying?”

Josh stared at me. “Yes, I’m studying. Is that so weird?” he said; his voice had an edge to it – just slight, but it was there.

I shook my head. “No, it’s not. This is a school after all. It’s just that…” I paused; somehow the concept of Josh and books, taken together, felt really weird. “You skipped our lunch to come here and study?”

He held my gaze for a few moments, and then nodded slowly. “Yeah, I did,” he replied. “Got a lot to catch up on; if I don’t get at least a B on my next test I’ll have to repeat chemistry next year. Teach told me as much this morning.”

“But… why didn’t you just say so?” I asked. “I was worried something had happened to you. You know, with Troy, and all that.”

“I…” he began, and then stopped. His eyes caught mine, and he sighed and looked away. His next words were mumbled, almost inaudible. “I didn’t want you to think less of me.”

I blinked in surprise. “Uh, what? Why would I think less of you?”

“Well, because… Because you’re really smart,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “Because you study a lot, and you have really good grades. If you knew I risked being held back, you would think I wasn’t worth your time.”

I just stared at him for a couple seconds, then walked around the table and slapped him in the shoulder. Hard.

“Ow!” he protested. “What was that for?”

“For thinking I would stop being your friend because of your grades,” I answered; I pulled up a chair, and sat down next to him. “Josh, some people like studying, and some find it hard. Some have good grades, and some don’t. That’s just how it is. I would never think less of you for needing some help with studying, and I’m quite offended you would think that.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“Besides,” I continued, smirking. “I think I can help you with your studies.”

He’d been staring down at the table, but looked up at me in surprise. “What?”

“You said it yourself. I’m smart, and I study a lot, and I have really good grades. And besides, this,” I motioned at the book, “is all stuff I studied last year. So yes, I can definitely help you out. It’s not something I would normally do, but we’re friends. You just need to ask.”

He hesitated, but then nodded. “Alright. Then… Will you help me study for my chemistry test?”

“Of course I will,” I replied. “When’s the test?”

“On Monday. First period.”

“Oh,” I said. “Okay. That’s… We don’t have much time.” I paused. “Wanna come over to my house tomorrow afternoon?”

He blinked, and his eyes widened. “Your house?”

“Yeah, I have lots of reference material there,” I nodded. “I’ll help you study and review. And then, if there’s something you don’t understand, you can give me a call on Sunday.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Great,” I said, standing up. “For now, let’s go eat something; lunch is almost over, and I for one I’m famished.”

-----

I took a look at myself in the mirror.

Yep, I definitely looked good.

I was wearing my new dress, the one I’d bought when I went to the mall with Josh a few days before; I’d complemented the look with a close-fitting white cardigan, and I’d carefully done my make-up and styled my hair, as well as slipping on a few accessories. It was my best look yet, and I felt really happy about what I saw in the mirror.

I looked down at my watch: it was just about time, in a few minutes Josh would be coming over to study, and I was ready. I’d pulled my chemistry notebook from the previous year out of storage, and I’d revised the subject a bit. And I’d set up my desk with another chair, so we could sit close together – so that I could properly explain what Josh needed me to.

Alright.

I opened the door to my room and walked down the hall.

“Hey, sis, looking good!” Chloe called as I passed in front of her room. “What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing much,” I said. “Josh is coming over to study, remember? I mentioned it yesterday at dinner.”

Chloe tilted her head to the side, and put a hand to her chin, looking at me critically. “So you dressed up to the nines… Because Josh is coming over?” She had a cheeky smirk on her face.

I blinked, and realised what she was getting at.

Why had I dressed up to the nines? I mean, it was just Josh. And we would be studying in my room, nothing else. There was no need for me to look this good.

“I’ll go change,” I said, turning back towards my room.

Just then, the doorbell rang. “Emily! Your friend is here!” I heard my mother call from downstairs.

“Bit too late to change, isn’t it?” Chloe said, still smirking.

I glared at her, but made my way down the stairs to the front door, which I opened to reveal Josh: he was dressed the same as always, and he was carrying his chemistry book and notes, as well as a couple pens.

“Hi, Emily,” he said with a smile. “Nice to see you. You look good.”

I blushed a bit, but smiled back. “Welcome,” I said, and stepped aside to let him into the house.

“Hello there,” Mom said, walking into the living room from the kitchen, my brother Tony following close behind. “You must be Emily’s friend, it’s nice to meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine, ma’am,” Josh said, shaking the hand Mom offered.

“Well, aren’t you a polite young man,” she said.

“Mom,” I said.

She turned to look at me. “What? He is.”

“And who would you be?” Josh said, bending over to look at Tony.

“I’m Tony!” my brother replied. “Who are you?”

“Nice to meet you, Tony, I’m Josh Woods.”

Tony’s eyes widened. “Josh Woods?” he asked.

Josh tilted his head to the side. “You’ve heard of me?”

Right at that moment, I remembered something critically important.

I hadn’t actually told my parents, or Tony, who my friend from school was. I’d never mentioned his name, it had just never come up; besides Chloe, my family didn’t know I’d made peace with Josh Woods, the same Josh Woods who’d been my sworn enemy.

Which meant…

Tony let out a primal scream and jumped forwards, headbutting Josh in the chest and bowling him over; Josh’s books and notes fell to the ground, and in an instant Tony was sitting on top of Josh, punching down repeatedly at him.

“Go away! Go away! Leave! You villain!” Tony shouted at the top of his lungs. “Leave my sister alone! Go away!”

Josh was too shocked to fight back: he just lay there, bewildered, trying – and failing – to parry Tony’s blows, and shielding himself with his arms. “What the – Ow! Ow!” Josh protested loudly. “Get off! Get off!”

…I should probably help my friend, right?

I stepped forward, grabbed my brother below his armpits, and lifted him up; Tony tried to kick at Josh, but thankfully missed. “Okay, okay, that’s enough,” I said, laughing. “Stop, bro. Just stop.”

“But he’s a villain!” Tony shouted, trying to twist out of my grasp.

“I’m what?” Josh asked.

I shook my head. “He’s not,” I said, still laughing. “He’s not a villain, Tony.”

Tony stopped struggling, and turned his head towards me. “He’s not? But you said…”

I set my brother down on the floor and turned him to face me, putting my hands on his shoulders. “That was before I talked to him,” I said.

Tony just looked at me wide-eyed; I could see how I needed to explain this properly.

I took a deep breath. “Alright. You know how, in She-Ra, Adora was a member of the Evil Horde at first?”

“Uh-huh,” Tony said, nodding.

“So she was a villain. But then, she talked to Glimmer and Bow, and realised she was wrong, and became good.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Okay. So you see, Josh is like that,” I concluded.

Tony kept looking at me, his face twisting in concentration as he thought about what I’d said.

“So Josh is a hero?” my brother said, finally.

“Hmm… I wouldn’t know about that, he’s not really hero material…”

“Hey!” Josh protested.

“…but he’s a good guy,” I said.

Tony looked at me for a few moments more, then smiled. “Okay!” he said.

“Now, Tony, what do we say to someone we hit? Even if we thought we were in the right?” Mom asked, bending over and placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

Tony turned his head to look at her, and then looked at Josh; sheepishly, he walked over and stood in front of my friend. “I’m sorry I hit you,” Tony said, looking down at the floor and shuffling his feet in embarrassment.

Josh smiled. “Apology accepted.”

My brother looked up at Josh and smiled. “Wanna play Smash?” he asked.

“Maybe later,” I interjected. “Josh and I have to study.”

Tony seemed a bit down, but he nodded.

“We’ll be in my room,” I said, grabbing Josh’s book and notes from the floor and ushering him up the stairs.

“Now what was this villain thing all about?” Josh asked as we reached the top of the stairs.

I laughed. “It’s kind of a long story, actually.”

“Well, you’ll tell me when we have time,” he said, as we passed in front of my sister’s room. “Oh, hi, Chloe!”

“Hi, Josh!” my sister called. “How are you?”

“Doing fine. And you? You keeping up with the guitar?”

“Of course,” she replied.

“Come on, we gotta get to studying,” I said.

“Okay,” Josh said, and he let me push him into my room. “See you later, Chloe!”

I pulled the door closed with a click behind us, and let out a deep sigh; we hadn’t even started studying, and I was already exhausted.

“Nice room,” Josh remarked.

“Thanks,” I replied, then gestured towards the desk and chairs. “Take a seat, we better start right away.”

Josh obediently sat down in one of the chairs, and I took the other.

“Okay,” I said. “So, to begin with, do you know what will be on the test?” Josh nodded, and I continued, “Alright. Tell me what you don’t understand and I’ll explain it to you, and then we’ll do a general review of the rest to make sure you’re up to speed.”

“Okay,” Josh said. “The test will be mostly about acid-base reactions and stuff related to them. So pH, pOH, and so on. Well, the book says that pH is related to… logarithms, I think it was?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Right. So…” He looked straight at me. “What the hell is a logarithm?”

I looked at him for a few seconds, and then slowly nodded. “I see we have some ground to cover. Alright.” I took a deep breath. “So, pH stands for potential of hydrogen…”

-----

“…So if you add an acid to the solution, the concentration of H-plus ions increases to the new balance; you use this formula,” I pointed to the book, “to figure out by how much it changes, and then do the logarithm of the concentration, and find the new pH of the solution.”

Josh nodded. “Yeah, I see. So if I do this…” he started writing something down in his notebook, but stopped. “Damn.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Out of ink,” he replied, holding up his ballpoint pen. “I don’t suppose you have a spare?”

I smiled. “Of course,” I said. “Let’s take a break, it’s already been an hour; I’ll fill up a pen for you, and then we’ll start again.”

Josh cocked his head to the side. “Wait, what do you mean fill up a pen?”

“A fountain pen,” I answered. “What, did you think I was kidding when I said I have a lot? Hold up your hand.”

“Like this?” he asked, holding up his right hand, palm facing me; I nodded, and pushed my hand against his, the palms touching.

“About the same size, which is good, it means I know which size of pen fits,” I remarked. I stood up and walked a couple of steps over to a shelf; I took a pen and a bottle of indigo ink from my collection, and brought them both back over to the desk.

“Okay, so, you uncap the pen, then unscrew this part… Open the bottle of ink…” I mumbled, as I demonstrated the motions needed to fill up the fountain pen. “Twist this part back and forth a few times… Screw this part back on… And you’re done.” I handed him the pen.

“Cool,” Josh said. “I’d never thought about this kind of stuff, but it’s really neat. And you’re really good at that.”

I shrugged. “Practice. Now be careful, when you use a fountain pen you don’t have to press down hard on the page, or else you risk bending the tines.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“You do it like this,” I replied, standing up and moving behind him; I grabbed his hand and guided it over to my notebook, then held it carefully as I helped him scribble a few lines and loops. “See? You just have to be touching the page, the pen does the rest. No need to press down hard.”

“I see,” he said. “Thanks.”

He turned his head towards me; I was still holding his hand, and our faces were just a couple inches apart.

I looked at him for a couple seconds, then let go of his hand and stepped backwards, blushing a bit.

“We better get back to studying,” I said.

Josh nodded; I thought I saw a hint of a blush on his face, too, or maybe it was just a trick of the light. “Yeah, let’s,” he answered.

I’d just sat back down in my chair, though, when someone knocked at the door. Josh and I exchanged glances; “Yes!” I called out loud.

The door opened, and my mom walked in holding a tray with two steaming mugs of tea and a plate of cookies on it. “Thought you might be hungry,” she said, smiling at us.

“Thanks, Mom,” I said, and I pushed my book aside to make some space on my desk.

She set the tray down. “How’s it going?” she asked.

“Pretty well,” I said. “We’ve made good progress, Josh is a good student when he tries.”

Josh smiled at me as he picked up a mug and gave the contents a tentative sniff.

“Oh, that’s mint tea, I hope you like it,” Mom said. “If not, I can make something else.”

“No, mint tea is fine,” Josh replied, and he took a sip. “It’s good.”

My mom smiled at him. “Well, I better leave you to your studies,” she said. “Call me if you need a refill on that tea, or anything else.”

Josh nodded. “Thank you, ma’am.”

Mom nodded back, and left the room without another word, closing the door behind her.

“She’s nice,” Josh remarked.

I nodded and smiled. “Yeah, she really is.”

Josh seemed to hesitate, but then spoke again. “You two don’t resemble each other much. If you don’t mind me saying it.”

“It would be weird if we did,” I replied, grabbing a cookie from the plate and biting into it. “We’re not related.”

“You’re… not?” Josh said, his eyebrows rising in surprise.

“No, we aren’t,” I said. “Mom and Dad married when I was eight, it was just me and him before that. Oh, and I’m not related to Chloe either, she’s Mom’s daughter from her first marriage.”

“Huh,” he answered. “And what happened to your real mother?”

I stopped, the cookie halfway to my mouth; I turned towards Josh and pierced him with a glare. “Mom is my real mother,” I said, my voice ice cold. “Just like Chloe is my real sister.”

Josh blinked in surprise; from the expression on his face, he seemed to have realised he’d stepped onto a landmine. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “I didn’t mean to…”

He stopped, and looked at me: I was still glaring at him.

“Sorry,” he repeated. “I meant… Your birth mother.”

I nodded. “Better. She…” I took a deep breath. “Well, she died. Car accident. I was two. I don’t even remember her.”

“Oh,” Josh said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I replied. “I’m a bit sad I’ll never get to meet her, but I’ve made my peace with it.”

Josh nodded, but he had a weird expression on his face; he seemed… sad?

“What’s on your mind?” I asked.

He looked up at me. “Your mom… You said she’s okay with you being trans? Even though you’re not related by blood?”

“Yeah, she is,” I nodded. “Why wouldn’t she? That’s what parents do.”

Josh didn’t answer; instead, he turned away from me, and hid his face with his hand.

“Josh?” I asked, frowning.

“Sorry, I’m… I’m fine. I…”

He sobbed.

My frown deepened. “Josh, what’s wrong?”

In response, he sobbed again, even louder. And then he started crying.

I just sat there for a few moments, unsure about what to do, but then I moved forward and hugged him, holding him tight as he cried his eyes out.

It took a few minutes before his crying subsided; once he’d calmed down, I carefully let go of him.

“Are you alright?” I asked.

He nodded, wiping his eyes dry with his sleeve.

“Wanna talk about it?”

He hesitated, but then he nodded again. “My… My mom,” he began. “We’d never been close, really, but… Well, last year she found out I was trans, and she threw me out.”

I blinked. My eyes narrowed. “She did what?” I hissed.

Josh nodded a third time. “She just wouldn’t listen to me, kept saying I was… I was wrong. I never thought she would…”

He paused, and took a deep breath. “In the end my uncle – Mom's brother – took me in, so I moved over here.”

I nodded. “So that’s why you switched schools before the school year was over.”

“Right,” he said. “And hearing about what your mom did for you, just… I’m sorry.”

I put a hand on his shoulder. “Josh, you have nothing to apologise for. You did nothing wrong.”

He looked up at me. “Thank you, Emily.”

“You’re welcome,” I answered with a smile. “Have you calmed down?”

He sniffled. “Little bit,” he said.

I nodded. “The bathroom’s right across the hall from my room if you wanna go wash your face, I think it’ll help. Then we can finish the tea and cookies, and talk for a while.”

“Shouldn’t we get back to studying?”

“We have time,” I said. “First, I wanna hear all about your uncle and cousins. You know about my family, so it’s only fair I get to know about yours.”

He smiled warmly at me: it was a really nice smile. “Thanks.”

-----

Three hours later (one of which we spent chatting without a care), I capped my pen again, and looked up from my notes at Josh. “And this… is it, I guess?” I said. “This should be everything that’s on Monday’s test.”

“Yeah,” Josh nodded. “Unless Mr. Morris springs a trap at us and puts something in it he didn’t tell us about.”

“Nah, I don’t think so,” I replied, shaking my head. “Mr. Morris is a very straightforward man, I’ve never heard of him playing that kind of tricks.”

“Good to hear. Man, I’m beat.”

Josh yawned, and started stretching. Meanwhile, I was looking at him.

Josh Woods. My friend. My best friend. My only friend, really. We’d started talking only recently, but we had forged such a strong connection with each other it was almost incredible.

Ever since I’d started talking with him, I’ve noticed that he was a warm, caring, funny person. Every moment I spent with Josh was really enjoyable, each day I found myself looking forward to our lunch meetings, to our text conversations. It was really unexpected; I’d always been a loner, but now I wanted to talk to someone. To Josh, specifically. The way we’d opened up to each other that afternoon… I really liked that. I wanted to know more about him: what he liked, what his favourite food was, the kind of movies he enjoyed, if he had any hobbies.

I felt like I wanted to spend every waking moment of my day with him.

And, I had to admit, he was cute. Kinda handsome, sort of, but mostly cute. Like a puppy. A really lovable puppy. I knew he was strong and capable, really, but the look on his face when he got sad… It made me want to hug him tight, to protect him.

Never before I’d thought about someone’s face, or their eyes, or their strong shoulders like that.

It was an unexpected feeling.

In fact, it was almost as if…

Oh.

I froze, still looking at Josh; he finished stretching, and looked at me, tilting his head to the side in that cute, endearing way of his. “What?” he asked. “Why are you looking at me like that? Do I have something on my face?”

“No…” I mumbled, still looking at him.

He frowned slightly. “What, then?”

I blinked, and then shook myself.

“Well, you better get going,” I said. “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I have to help my uncle make dinner, too.”

“Remember to review everything tomorrow,” I added. “And call me if you have any doubts.”

He smiled. “Yes, Miss Wilson.”

“No lip from you, young man,” I said, smiling back.

Josh gathered his things, and handed me the fountain pen I’d lent him. “No, keep it,” I said, shaking my head.

“But… isn’t it expensive?” he asked.

“Not nearly as much as you would think,” I answered. “Keep it. As a memento of today.”

“…Okay,” he nodded. He pocketed the pen, and we made our way back downstairs, where my parents, sister, and brother were sitting on the couch, chatting away.

“Oh, who’s this?” my dad asked when he saw us. “Is he that friend you’ve talked so much about?”

Josh glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, but extended a hand towards my dad. “Josh Woods, sir. Nice to meet you.”

“Told you he was polite,” Mom said.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Dad commented. “Nice to meet you, Josh, I’m Brett. And forget the ‘sir,’ I’m not that old.”

“Yes, you are,” Chloe said, making my mom and Tony laugh.

“Josh was just leaving,” I said.

“Oh, you’re not staying for dinner?” Mom asked.

“Next time,” Josh replied. “I have something to do at home.”

“Alright,” she said. “See ya, Josh, and be careful on the way home.”

Josh nodded. “I will.”

I followed him outside and watched as he got into his car. “See you Monday at school, Emily!” he called, waving at me; then he started the car, put it into gear, and drove away.

“Well, he seemed nice.”

I turned around and saw my mom standing just inside the front door. “Yeah, he is nice,” I said; she nodded in response.

There was a moment of silence.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

I took a deep breath.

“How… How do you know when you like someone? I mean… You know. Like-like.”

Mom froze, and then looked at me. She grinned widely. “Oh, honey. I’m so happy for you.” She stepped forward and wrapped me in a tight hug.

“Come on, let’s go back inside,” she said, once she’d released the embrace. “I’ll make another mug of tea, bring out some more cookies, and then you can tell me all about it.”