Sunday came and went, and Josh didn’t call or text me: he was probably too busy reviewing what we’d studied the previous day. I mentally cursed myself a few times for being too thorough, for explaining chemistry too well to him – he didn’t need any more advice, apparently, but I found myself wanting to talk to him. It was the weirdest thing, as if a switch had been flipped in my mind: we’d been barely even friends, but then, unexpectedly…

When I’d told Mom that, she’d just nodded. “It’s almost always this way. Love at first sight is something that just doesn’t happen, usually you start by getting to know the other person, what they’re like, their personality, and finally you figure out you like them.” Then she’d reached over, and squeezed my hand while smiling. “It was the same for me and your dad. Tale as old as time.”

Tale as old as time, yes. But would’ve it killed Josh to just text me to let me know how he was doing? I’d seen him on Saturday, true, but… I missed him.

That’s why on Monday, when the bus dropped me off in front of the school, I walked right past my usual classroom and made my way to Josh’s.

I paused in front of the door and peered inside: he was already sitting at his desk, looking over his notes one last time before the test, his face screwed in a look of concentration which was really cute. I smiled to myself and walked in, stopping in front of him.

“Josh.”

He looked up at me, and gave me a stare of mild surprise. “Wilson. Hi.”

“Hi,” I replied.

There was an awkward moment of silence, then Josh said, “…Can I help you?”

I hesitated, looking at him. “Well… Not really,” I said. “I just came here to wish you good luck. Just remember what we’ve studied and you’ll be okay.”

I stepped forward, grabbed his hand, and squeezed it, while smiling at him. “You’re really smart, Josh. I’ve seen it. I know you can do it.”

He blinked, but then smiled back, a really cute and dazzling smile which made my heart skip a beat. “Thank you, Wilson,” he answered, squeezing my hand in return. “I’ll do my best.”

I nodded, and held his gaze for a few moments.

God, I just wanted to lean in and kiss him.

…On the cheek, that is. Not on the lips. That would’ve been too premature. Too daring.

And besides, Josh’s classmates were already giving us some weird stares, so I reluctantly let go of his hand, smiled at him one last time, and made my way back to my own classroom.

All the way there, I felt as if I was floating. I’d only seen Josh for a couple minutes, just exchanged a few words with him, but it had brightened my day. Lifted my spirits.

Was this what liking someone felt like?

-----

“Hi,” I said, placing my tray on the table and sitting down. “So how did it go?”

Josh looked up at me, grimaced, and shook his head.

“…Did it go bad?” I asked.

He sighed. “Yeah,” he replied. “It’s just… I looked at the test, and it was as if my mind went blank. I could barely remember anything.” He sighed again. “In the end I answered all the questions, but I have zero idea how good those answers actually were.” He paused, but then added, “Sorry.”

I raised my eyebrow at him. “Sorry? For what?”

“For wasting your time,” he answered. “I mean, you spent a whole Saturday afternoon teaching me, and it was all for nothing.”

“Don’t be,” I said. “Even if you get a bad grade, I enjoyed spending time with you. That’s what friends are for.”

“Yeah,” Josh breathed out; he seemed to have cheered up a bit, but he was still quite bummed. “Speaking of which, are you free this afternoon?” he asked, smiling mildly. “I want to forget all about this damn chemistry test, let’s go to the mall or something.”

That sounded really tempting. However…

“Sorry, I can’t today,” I replied, shaking my head. “I have to study, I have a test coming up.”

“Oh, you have a test too?” he said, his eyebrows rising.

“Yeah, tomorrow in fact.”

Josh blinked, and stared at me for a few moments. Then he looked away, and muttered, “Sorry.”

I crossed my arms in front of my chest. “You know, you should really stop apologising so much. What are you sorry for now?”

“Well…” he began. He looked up and met my eyes. “You should’ve been studying for your test, instead of helping me out with mine.”

I looked at him in disbelief, and then let out a sigh. “Josh, it’s fine,” I said, stressing the final word. “I spend most of my afternoons studying, missing one day for your sake isn’t going to make a difference in the end. I’ve already memorised everything that will be on the test, I just need to review to make sure I’ve got everything down and I’m all set.”

“If you say so,” he replied. He didn’t seem convinced.

“Tell you what,” I said. “I’m going to make a bet with you. If I get an A on this next test, you’ll pay for everything next time we go out.”

He stared at me. “Uh… What?”

“I mean, even if it’s not today, there’ll be other chances,” I continued. “We can go watch another movie, or hang out around town, or go shopping, or go to the arcade. The possibilities are endless. Only, you’re going to pay.”

“If you get an A,” he said, tilting his head to the side.

“If I get an A, correct,” I nodded.

Josh grinned at me. “Well, aren’t we confident,” he said. “You’re on.”

“Good, let’s shake on it,” I said, extending a hand towards him, which he shook. “I promise I won’t spend too much.”

“You haven’t even won the bet yet!” he protested.

“I will.”

-----

Truth to be told, I wasn’t sure I would get an A on the next test, but I just couldn’t resist bragging a bit; and besides, if I won the bet, Josh would have to treat me on our next… Outing?

Date?

Were the times we met out of school to go somewhere, just the two of us, dates? Kinda? Maybe?

What do two people do on a date that they normally don’t do when they go out together as friends?

And besides, did Josh think of them as dates? That was really the question, wasn’t it. Maybe I was getting ahead of myself; I liked Josh – like-like, not the friendly kind of like – but what did he think of me? I was probably just a friend to him.

Well, no matter. Maybe if we hung out enough, he would begin to like me, too.

In any case, I would have to try my best on the next test, if only to be able to have the “girlfriend experience” – going out with a boy, and have him pay for everything. Just the thought of it made me smile.

That’s why I spent the whole afternoon, when I got home, reviewing for the test: physics wasn’t really my strong point, but by dinnertime I had a pretty good grasp of Newton’s laws of motion.

I went to bed early after dinner and got a good night’s sleep, and the next morning I studied some more before lessons started for the day – the test was on first period, so I made sure to go over the handful of things I’d noticed I had a problem with.

When I was done I put my book down and looked at my watch. Still ten minutes to spare; I could very well allow myself to relax a bit, right?

I glanced around the classroom; most people were just milling around and chatting, seemingly unconcerned by the test looming on the horizon, but a couple desks away from mine a group of three people – two guys and a girl – were bent over the physics textbook, talking away in an urgent manner.

“See, this is what I don’t get,” the girl said. “Force equals mass times acceleration, but how does this correlate to momentum?”

One of the two boys frowned. “Well, momentum is mass times velocity, so… Mass is momentum over velocity? So force is momentum over velocity times acceleration? Or something?” His frown deepened. “No, that can’t be right.”

Maybe it had been my experience teaching Josh, or maybe I’d relaxed a bit too much, but before I could help myself, the words had left my lips.

“Use Newton’s second law.”

The trio looked up from the book and turned to look at me. “Sorry?” the boy who’d spoken before said.

I looked at them for a few moments, unsure if I should go on, but then I continued: “Newton’s second law. You know, force equals change in momentum over time?”

The three gave me blank stares, so I sighed, stood up, and marched over to them; they shrank away a bit from me, but I just bent over the textbook, flipped a few pages, and pointed.

“See here?” I said, tapping the page. “F equals dp over dt – force is change in momentum over time. But momentum, p, is mass times velocity, so we can write dp over dt as dmv over dt, which is change of mass-times-velocity over time. If we consider constant mass, dm is just m, mass, and change in velocity over time is acceleration.” I looked up at them. “So force is mass times acceleration, F equals m times a.”

I looked around the table expectantly, but was met by weirded-out stares – and with good reason: that was probably one of the first times I’d ever spoken to my classmates, and the first time ever I’d discussed schoolwork with them. Everyone else in the room had stopped and was looking at me.

“…Forget it,” I muttered after a few moments; I walked back to my desk, sat down, and busied myself into getting my stationery ready for the test. And not a moment too soon: right then the teacher entered the room, and told everyone to get ready.

I sighed deeply. What the hell had gotten into me?

-----

The bell rang. “Alright, time’s up. Pens down,” the teacher announced. I complied with a sigh; the test had been unexpectedly difficult, I wasn’t sure if I could manage that A I’d bet with Josh on. But at the very least, I’d managed to answer all the questions.

As I always did after a test, I put my head down on the desk, using my arms as a pillow, closed my eyes, and took a few deep breaths: it allowed myself to just free my mind, to not get stuck in the past and overthink the test, but instead focus on the future.

“Wilson?” I heard a voice say.

I opened my eyes again and looked up at the speaker: it was the girl who’d been part of the trio whom I’d helped with before the test. Why was she speaking to me?

“Yeah?” I said, pulling myself back up. “What is it… Uh…”

“Agatha Claes,” she replied. “Aggie.”

“Aggie,” I repeated. “Sorry, I… I’m a bit bad with names.”

“I can see that,” she said.

Truth to be told, I’d never even bothered to learn my classmates’ names: I rarely even spoke to them, and when I did a “Hey, you” usually sufficed. There would be time to make friends next year, after I’d come out properly and re-introduced myself to the school.

“Can I help you?” I asked Aggie.

“I…” she began, but then hesitated. She took a deep breath and continued: “I wanted to thank you, for before.”

I blinked. “Before?”

“The help you gave us. Newton’s second law.”

“Oh, that,” I replied, then waved my hand dismissively. “It’s nothing, really. Rather, I’m the one who should apologise for butting in.”

She shook her head. “No, it was a really big help. Thanks to you, we were able to answer questions fifteen and seventeen. Mark and Nick think so, too.”

She jerked her thumb towards the two boys who’d been studying with her, who had been standing a few metres away. I gave them a nod of acknowledgement, and one of them – I didn’t know whether Mark or Nick – waved back.

“Okay then,” I nodded. “You’re welcome.”

Aggie nodded back, but then she just stood there, looking at me.

“Was there anything else?” I said, probably more curtly than I should have – I was still not used to the whole social interaction thing.

“Yes, actually,” she said. “We kinda have a study group. A few days per week we study together during the free study period we have after lunch. And I was – We were wondering if you’d like to study with us.”

I looked at her, then glanced at Nick and Mark, and then back at her. A study group? I really didn’t know, I’d never taken part in anything of the sort before. I was a bit worried I wouldn’t fit in. But, on the other hand, it could be a good chance to start making some friends, even before my coming out at the end of the school year. In the end, the only real friend I had was Josh; meeting someone else would be good, wouldn’t it? Yeah, maybe.

I was about to open my mouth to give Aggie my reply, when I heard running footsteps in the corridor just outside the classroom; someone skidded at a halt in front of the classroom and flung the door open.

“Wilson!” Josh shouted, as he entered the room at a jog.

Surprised, I stood up from my chair. “Josh? What--” I began, but he didn’t let me finish: he flung himself at me and clamped me in a tight hug, pinning my arms to my body.

Huh? What? What the hell? What was going on?

I felt blood rush to my cheeks: my whole face felt as if it was on fire from being suddenly so close to Josh.

“J-Josh,” I managed to stammer out. “What the f--”

“Look at this!” he exclaimed, releasing me and waving a sheet of paper in front of my eyes. “Look! Look!”

“Hold still, I can’t see,” I protested, trying to focus my eyes on the paper.

He stopped. “Oh, sorry,” he said. “Look.”

He handed me the sheet; I took it and began reading. Year 2021, sophomore chemistry. Josh Woods, grade…

I looked up at Josh in disbelief. “…An A minus?” I asked.

“Yeah!” he said, nodding enthusiastically. “An A minus! God, it’s the best grade I’ve ever gotten in my whole high school career! And look!” he pointed. “Mr. Morris even wrote ‘excellent job’ here! He told me he was very surprised I’d managed to get this grade, but that he was proud of me.”

“This is great, Josh!” I said, stepping forward and hugging him. “I’m really so happy for you.”

“And it’s all thanks to you,” he replied.

I released the embrace and shook my head. “I just helped you study, you did the test yourself,” I said.

“Still. If you hadn’t helped me, I’d have gotten a D, maybe even an F. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I answered with a smile.

Suddenly Josh seemed to notice Aggie, who was just standing there dumbfounded, looking at us – as was the rest of the class, actually.

“Sorry, did I interrupt something?” Josh asked.

“No, not at all,” I said. “We were just talking.”

“That we were,” Aggie agreed, looking from me to Josh and back again, a weird look in her eyes. “Are you two… friends?” she asked.

I hesitated. Josh and I glanced at each other. But then we nodded. “Yeah,” I said, at the same time as Josh answered, “Yes, we are.”

“Huh,” she said, with a pensive nod. “Alright. Think about the study group, Wilson.”

“I will,” I replied; she nodded again and walked away.

“Come on, walk with me,” Josh said. “I’m going to put this in my locker; I want to show it to my uncle and cousins. Man, will they be surprised.”

I looked at my watch: we still had ten or so minutes before the next period was due to start, so I nodded and followed Josh out of the classroom.

“By the way, what were you talking about?” Josh asked.

I shrugged. “Nothing much, she just asked me to join her and her two friends in a study group.”

“Oh, that’s great!” he said. “You should do it, Wilson.”

I looked at him, puzzled. “Seriously?”

He nodded. “Seriously,” he said. “It’s a good chance to make some friends.”

I held his gaze for a few moments, then nodded. “Alright, I’ll think about it.”

“Good,” Josh replied. “You know – Hey!” he suddenly shouted. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

I followed his gaze, and saw a boy standing next to a series of lockers, tinkering with one of them; there was no one else in the corridor, and the boy took on a deer-in-headlights expression.

“I was just--” he began.

“That’s my locker you’re messing with!” Josh said. “What the hell? Fuck off!”

The boy didn’t need to be told twice: he turned around and all but ran away.

“Seriously, what the hell?” Josh muttered again; he walked to his locker, put in the combination, and opened it.

“Anything missing?” I enquired.

“I don’t think so,” he replied. “Everything’s here.” He looked up at me. “What was that all about? Why would someone try to open my locker, specifically?”

I shrugged. “I have no idea.”

“Whatever,” Josh said, putting his chemistry test in the locker and closing it up again. “It’s still weird.”

Right at that moment, the PA system crackled to life, and a voice came out of it: “Mr. Wilson, please come to the principal’s office.”

Josh and I exchanged glances. “What did you do?” he asked.

“Hey, I didn’t do anything!” I protested. “This time, at least.”

“Then why would you get called to the principal’s office?”

“I have no idea,” I replied. “I did nothing wrong. In fact…”

Suddenly, a thought shot through my mind; I turned to Josh.

“Listen, my locker is number oh-four-nine-three. In the next corridor over,” I urgently said. “The combination is three-nine-four-oh. Open it, and look for anything suspicious: if you find something, take it and hide it.”

“But why?” Josh asked.

“Just do it,” I said. “Please.”

He locked eyes with me, and nodded. “Alright.”

I nodded back, turned around, and made my way through the school corridors, to the principal’s office. I knocked on the door; “Come in!” came a voice from inside.

“Mr. Carlson, you wanted--” I began, opening the door, but then saw that the principal wasn’t in the room: someone else was sitting in the chair, a short, balding man, with two other people – a man and a woman – flanking him.

“Mr. Wilson, welcome,” the man said. “Kind of you to come.”

“Who are you?” I asked. “Where’s Mr. Carlson?”

“Mr. Carlson is at a school board meeting,” he replied. “I’m Mr. Novak, the vice principal.”

“Alright,” I nodded. “What the hell do you want?”

Mr. Novak frowned, but replied, “A serious accusation has been levelled at you, Mr. Wilson. Someone came forward and said they saw you handle some… Contraband.”

“Contraband?” I asked, my eyebrows rising in surprise.

“Contraband,” he confirmed, nodding. “So we would like to search your locker. Just to clear the air of any suspicion. I’m sure you understand.”

Mr. Novak was staring right at me, as were the two other people: it was almost as if they were daring me to object.

“Fine,” I hissed. I turned around without another word, and started down the corridor; the three were clearly surprised, and scrambled to follow me.

In short order we arrived at my locker. “Here it is,” I said, motioning to it.

Mr. Novak nodded. “Open it, Mr. Wilson,” he ordered.

I took a deep breath, inputted the combination, and, after a brief moment in which I hoped Josh had made it in time, swung the door open and stepped aside.

Mr. Novak nodded to the other two, who stepped forward and started rummaging through the locker: they were very thorough, searching every nook and cranny, even looking through the pockets of the change of clothes I kept in there.

“Nothing,” the woman said.

Novak seemed surprised. “Nothing? Are you sure?”

The woman nodded. “I’m sure. There’s nothing out of the ordinary here.”

“But I’d been told…” he began, frowning.

“Well, you’ve been told wrong. Clearly,” I snapped. “Are you done wasting my time? Can I go now?”

Novak narrowed his eyes at me. “It might be in his pockets,” he said. “Search him.”

I blinked. They were going to search me? That meant they would have to pat me down, and that they would find out--

“No,” I said, taking a step back.

“No?”

“No,” I repeated. “I refuse. Fuck off.”

Novak grinned. “Too bad, you don’t get a choice.” He motioned at me. “Search him.”

The other man stepped forward, and lifted his hands towards me.

“No! Do not fucking touch me!” I said, louder this time. I stepped forward, grabbed the man’s arm, and pulled, while sweeping my leg; he was thrown off balance, and tumbled to the ground.

“Why you little…” Novak said. “What you just did is assault, and--”

“What the hell is going on here?!”

Novak froze; we turned towards the source of the voice, and saw Mr. Carlson marching down the corridor towards us.

“Principal Carlson!” Novak said. “The meeting…”

“It just ended,” the principal said. “What’s going on here?” he repeated.

“I was just…” Novak hesitated. “Well, you see, we were conducting a search of this student’s belongings.”

“On whose authority?” Carlson demanded.

“We’ve been tipped off that there was contraband in his locker.”

Carlson glared at him. “By whom?” When Novak didn’t answer, he continued, “The fact that the superintendent named you vice principal doesn’t mean you can violate a student’s rights just like that.”

Novak blinked. “What do you mean, violate his rights?”

“Searches of a student’s belongings, besides being wrong, are also extremely illegal, Mr. Novak,” the principal said, his voice deadly serious. “Especially how you were doing it.”

“But… He consented to the search.”

“I allowed you to search my locker,” I interjected. “I refused to be patted down, but you were about to do it all the same.”

The two turned to look at me, and Mr. Carlson nodded. “Go back to your classroom, Mr. Wilson. I’ll handle it from here.”

I held his gaze for a few moments, then nodded; I slammed my locker’s door closed, and started down the corridor.

As soon as I turned the corner, I stopped. I started shaking; I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and tried to steady my breathing.

That had been terrifying.

“Hey. Emily. You okay?”

I opened my eyes again, and looked into Josh’s eyes; without thinking, I stepped forward and hugged him. I felt him hesitate for a couple seconds, but then he wrapped his arms around me.

“Why are you here?” I whispered.

“I thought something was up, so I hung around after opening your locker. Saw everything,” he replied. “I was just about to step in, when Carlson arrived.”

“…I was scared,” I said.

He nodded into my shoulder. “I know.”

We kept hugging for a while, then broke the embrace.

“It was Troy, wasn’t it?” Josh asked.

“Who else?” I replied. “Him and his cronies. I’m willing to bet they were about to put something in your locker, too. By the way, what was it?”

“This,” he said, holding up a small, transparent plastic baggie, which had a green and brown mass in it.

“Weed,” I said, and Josh nodded. “Alright. Come on, we should get back to class… After we flush this stuff down the toilet.”