The Novak Dolls

Your End of the Deal

This was stupid, Sam decided. Completely stupid.

So he had lost a bet to Hannah, so what? It's not like she had anything to hold over his head that said he HAD to ask Gabriel out.

Well....She had seen him in the girl's bathroom in his underwear....

Okay so she had ONE THING to hold over him. But it's not like she had evidence! 

Other than several witnesses!

He groaned and faceplanted onto his desk in Spanish class. What was the point? He was obviously done for. If Hannah was devious enough to manipulate the gym teacher AND cheat to get him to lose the bet in the first place, then she'd obviously make his life a living hell if he didn't hold up his side of the deal.

And what was so bad about asking Gabriel out again? It's not like he had promised Hannah they'd date or be boyfriends or anything, so what was the problem?

The classroom door slammed open and Gabe flounced in, candy wrappers littering the ground behind him as he flopped into his seat and continued to loudly eat more candy.

Ah, right. Gabriel was an asshole. That's what made it hard.

And he was an attractive asshole. That made it worse. He wasn't sure who he hated more; Hannah for putting him in this situation, Gabriel for existing, or his own stupid self for thinking someone like Gabriel was even remotely attractive.

Damn that stupid squishy face.

But Hannah hadn't specified what kind of date he had to ask Gabriel on, had she? It could be entirely unromantic! They could go pick up trash or something, Gabriel would see him as lame, and he'd never have to worry about going out with him ever again!

Except that....Sam kinda wanted to go out with him. And not just cause Gabriel was hot, no...

Because he brought him cherry lollipops and remembered they were his favorite, and cause he was one of the first people in the whole school to be nice and talk to him even though he was new, and he always noticed when another kid in class was struggling to answer a question and made a scene so that the kid didn't have to answer or at least had more time to think of something.

Sam sighed and then froze.

WAS HE BLUSHING JUST BY THINKING ABOUT GABRIEL FRIGGIN NOVAK?

FUCK.

Clearly he needed to have a long chat with his brain and its chemicals over blush worthy things because GABRIEL WAS NOT SOMEBODY TO BLUSH OVER, GO HOME BRAIN, YOU'RE DRUNK.

"Hey Sammoose," Gabriel started, poking at him. "You sleepy or something?"

Shit. He still had to ask him out.

"No," Sam insisted, sitting back up. "Just...thinking."

"Better be careful with that- if you think too much, you'll get smart."

"I'm already smart."

"You poor thing! How long have you been in that sad state?"

"Long enough to know it would do you some good to think more."

"You're probably right," Gabriel shrugged. "Maybe if I thought more I'd be passing this class." Sam's eyes widened.

"You're failing?" He asked. Gabe waved him off.

"Eh, kinda. I've bombed the last few quizzes, and Profesora says my grade is in danger of 'slipping.'"

"Gabe that's bad." Gabriel stared at him.