Spark

3 - Colton Wilson

Forever meant nothing when we had nothing - Depthford Goth

Freshman year. Everyone was excited for high school. The preppy ones who wanted to act like they were it-whatever it was, the sporty ones who wanted to join the basketball team or the football team, and the absolute quirky, delightful nerds who wanted to expand their huge brains even more by exploring the new science laboratories and libraries.

Freshman year, almost everyone was still in. We knew each other. We were familiar. We'd been with each other for so long at this point that almost everyone knew everyone-as ridiculous as that sounds. We barely got new faces.

Until we got him-Colton Wilson. He was absolutely stunning. I caught a hiccup the moment I laid my eyes on him. I'd forgotten what it was like to see someone so good looking for the first time. His strikingly blue eyes had me in a daze the first time he spoke to me. It was the first time I'd gotten an ectopic heartbeat speaking to someone else. And when he chuckled at something someone had said, I thought I might trip on my own feet at the sheer look of happiness on his face.

I've never been able to speak to him. I've probably only ever said yes and or no to him. It's abhorrent, considering how affable he is compared to other individuals I've lent my voice to. Even now, as I stare at him out of the corner of my eyes, absently nibbling on the tip of my pen, I can't help but come up with a dozen failed dialogues between us. I'm helpless.

"Mr. Bryant, you absolutely cannot come into class this late," Mrs. Brown scolds, drawing my attention to Miles sliding into the seat next to me. "I'm going to have to write you up a detention if you haven't got a proper reason."

She most certainly isn't. Every teacher, and I mean, every, has the Miles Bryant charm fever. They just can't help liking him. They do and say things like this during class to make it seem fair to other students but we all know they really have a soft spot for him.

"I'm sorry Mrs. Brown," He apologises absent-mindedly, digging around his bag.

Mrs. Brown goes back to muttering about Greek mythology and I let out a soft sigh, placing my chin on my raised palm as I try to maintain my focus on the lesson being taught.

"Hey," I hear Miles mumble to the girl who sits adjacent to him. "Do you have a spare pen?"

He has one in between his fingers in seconds. I wouldn't be surprised to learn she did not have a spare pen.

×××

"Guess what?" Morgan squeals, sauntering up to me during lunch.

Unlike most of the other students, I'm one of the few who enjoys spending their lunch in the library with few companies and many books. It's solace.

I make a gesture for Morgan to lower her voice and then drop mine to a whisper. "You won a million dollars?"

She scoffs. "I wish. If I won a million dollars..." She begins tapping her chin with her index finger.

I wave off her thoughts and lean closer to reduce my sound waves. "What then?"

"I'm going to be in the school play." She giggles, bouncing on her chair. Someone nearby shoots her a look.

"Morgan, that's horrible," I respond with absolute disdain, because I cannot think of anything worse than standing on the stage of a high school auditorium acting out a poor performance of some great classic. "Did you get roped into this?"

Her face falls. "Read my mood, Starr, I'm happy, so you've got to let go of your own emotions regarding the play and focus on mine."

"So, I'm happy too?" I ask, like some robot learning to process and understand human feelings. "Well, great then. What show is it? What role do you have? And when is it?"

"Well...I don't know, I don't know and I don't know," she replies consecutively. "I just decided like ten minutes ago that I want to do it. Also, I thought you might want to join on this exciting journey because a little birdie told me Colton will be in too."

I straighten up at the mention of his name. "He will? Is he going to be the main lead?"

She shakes her head to convey her lack of knowledge about this. "Will you audition?"

"I can just watch him," I say. "I don't want to do something I'm uncomfortable with just because of a guy."

"Ooh," Her lips split into a smile. "You sound so mature and sensible right now. Must be all the books you've been reading." She gestures round us and someone else toss us a look.

I lower my voice once more. "Books I'd like to get back to reading now since you've got incomplete information for me."

"Oh, bite me King." She says in the oddest tone you'd expect in a library.

Most of the people around us turn to glare and I shrink into my seat.

×××

I get home to find Miles dribbling by himself on his front porch. It's a weird and lonely sight but if there's anyone I'd refuse to feel remorse or sympathy for, it's Miles. I watch him rake his hair back with his fingers multiple times to keep focus and I watch him do a nice little spin to challenge himself while he dribbles. I watch as his shirt starts to get damp and I watch as he looks up and notice me standing in my doorway with my key out about to enter the lock, yet with my eyes on him. His ball bounces off and his hair falls across his eyes once more. None of us moves. In a way, it's awkward and in a way, it isn't because in another sort of way, this is us. This used to be us.

I insert my key into the lock and push the front door open.