the book of fluff (that usually isn't)

irrationality

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Time passed. Mitch had started smiling at Scott in the hallway, and every one of them sent his heart into palpitations.

Scott knew he was starting to develop a crush on Mitch, but he also knew that it was stupid. He'd never even had a legitimate conversation with him, so why couldn't he get him out of his head? Was he so starved for affection from someone that wasn't his mother that he longed for it from someone he hardly knew?

Currently, Scott was in bed, staring at the ceiling. It was late, and he had school in the morning, but he couldn't stop thinking. He wished he could, desperately. All he could think about was that stupid smile of Mitch's.

He sighed and covered his face with his pillow. He was positive he was losing his mind and his heart.

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The next morning at school, Mitch sat next to Scott when he walked into the classroom. Scott was so surprised he dropped his pencil, but Mitch just giggled at him and picked it up, placing it back on his desk. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I just wanted to ask if you wanted to sit with my friends and me at lunch today," he said nonchalantly, as though Scott wasn't the most hated person in the school. Scott's eyes widened and his heart started to race. "You- You want to sit with me?"

Mitch giggled again. "Of course I do, silly. I would love nothing more."

Scott wished he wouldn't do that.

"O-Okay," he almost squeaked, his face on fire. Mitch grinned brightly, his entire face lighting up. "Great! I'll see you there."

Just like that, Mitch had gone to his seat. Scott sat, stunned, for a solid thirty seconds. He couldn't believe that Mitch wanted to sit with him. No one had wanted to sit with him before. He always ate his lunch in the corner of the lunchroom, where bullies would occasionally dump their food on him and give him a quick kick in the stomach before they continued on their way. Now, he'd be at an actual table. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten lunch at a table at school.

As the day went on, Scott grew more and more nervous. He suddenly regretted agreeing to sitting with Mitch and his friends. He'd probably say something stupid and mess everything up.

By the time lunch rolled around, Scott had overthought himself into a panic attack, and now he was hiding into the bathroom. The rational side of him felt incredibly stupid, but that just made himself feel worse. His hands shook and his heart pounded and he was crying so hard he couldn't breathe. He knew Mitch was waiting for him, and he also knew that Mitch now hated him because he didn't show up.

"Scotty?"

Scott's heart stopped when he heard Mitch's voice. He didn't sound angry whatsoever, but Scott wasn't in the most rational mindset, so he was positive Mitch had come to beat him up. His defense mechanisms kicked in; he immediately silenced his cries and held his breath, hoping desperately that Mitch would give up and let him off the hook.

"Scott?" Mitch called again. "Scott, are you in here? I just want to know if you're okay."

Scott didn't believe him for one second. He pulled his knees to his chest and held them tightly, biting his hand to keep himself silent.

Mitch frowned to himself and checked under the doors of the stalls for feet, but he didn't see any. He sighed and was just about to give up when he heard a sniffle. He stopped and turned instantly, trying to locate the source of the noise. "Scott? Was that you? Please, I just want to see if you're okay, Kirstie said she saw you go into the bathroom after fourth period and you looked like you were about to cry," he murmured soothingly. "Please tell me if you're okay. I'll leave you alone after if you want, and you don't have to come to lunch. You can another time."

Scott fumbled for the lock on the bathroom door with shaking hands against his better judgement. When the door swung open, Mitch felt his heart break. "Oh, baby, what happened?" he asked worriedly, coming so close Scott thought he was going to hug him. However, he kept his distance, but it appeared as though it was because he wanted to be sure Scott was okay with physical contact.

Scott tensed up at the nickname, his breathing speeding up. "I'm s-sorry," he whispered hoarsely, dragging his nails up and down his arms without even realizing he was doing it. Mitch furrowed his brows and took a hesitant step closer. "What for?" he asked gently, instinctively starting to reach for Scott. When he realized he was doing it, however, he thought better of it and dropped his arms. Scott almost couldn't answer because he was struggling to breathe and he was vaguely worried he might pass out, but he gripped the cold toilet seat in a pathetic effort to ground himself. "Y-You hate m-me," was all he could manage to force out.

"No, Scotty, I don't hate you," Mitch assured him, and his voice was genuine, if slightly confused. "Who told you I did?"

All Scott had the energy to do was point to his head, but Mitch seemed to understand. "Ah. Please try to breathe for me, okay?"

They spent the majority of lunch in the bathroom. Mitch explained that he too had panic attacks, so he knew how to help calm someone down from one. When Scott could breathe again, the only thing he could say was sorry, but Mitch insisted that it was totally fine and Scott had nothing to apologize about. As they headed back to class, Scott heard Mitch's stomach growl, and he instantly felt even worse. "I'm sorry," he repeated for the millionth time, his voice nothing louder than a whisper. "You didn't get to eat lunch."

Mitch glanced at him, smiling slightly. "Neither did you."

Scott shook his head, embarrassed. He subconsciously held his books closer to his chest. "I- I don't eat lunch. B-But you do and I'm sorry. I can p-pay you back."

Mitch shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous," he murmured, and though his voice was gentle, Scott almost flinched.

They walked in silence for a few moments before Mitch placed his hand on Scott's arm. "This is my class. Bye, Scotty." He smiled up at him one last time before he disappeared into the crowd of students, his touch still burning on Scott's skin.