Brighter Places [🗸]

3. lucas garcia is too gay for his own good

"Hey."

One immaculately conveyed word is how I greet the students sprawled out into the space in front of me. They're all sprawled across different seats, situated in a circle, my hand rising in a lazy salute as I nod at them.

They stare at me. Eyes wide, glances shifting, attention on me.

My shoulders sag into a shrug as I make my way over to a spare seat, not too far from one Lucas Garcia himself, the GSA members' eyes following me all the way to my seat, as a collective whole as I flop down onto the chair.

"Might as well take a picture," I cough, leaning back in my chair, a soft yawn escaping my lips. "This is uncomfortable as fuck."

With that, some of the onlookers blink slowly, eyes uncomfortably finding other points of interest.

A few seconds of silence follow before Lucas clears his throat, casting me a weary look before shuffling some sheets of paper and opening his laptop.

"So, today, we're just formulating some ideas," He says, nodding at the group who nod at him in response. Lucas goes on to introduce the purpose for today's meeting, and his voice starts to drown out as I glance over at him, lips pursed.

His hair is still in that weirdly perfect quiff, sun-light catching onto his slightly curled waves as he speaks to the group, hands moving, gestures easy. He's wearing a dress shirt today, a simple design, the few top buttons undone, and the front tucked into his signature black jeans. 

Ripped, of course, because it can't get any gayer than that. Besides the high topped converse, black with white laces, tapping against the floor as he sits up in his chair, insanely tense, slim form showcased by his fitted shirt.

Then there's his aura. I've barely gotten to even understand it, but he still radiates that energy; simple, slightly out-there, energy. His hand traces over a string-woven bracelet as he listens to some of the other members talk, going on from topic to topic.

And in all honesty, whatever the hell the GSA is talking about is going through one ear and flying out the other.

That is, until Lucas Garcia claps his hands together, glancing over at me before grinning at the rest of the group. "Since we have a new member here," Lucas juts a head in my direction, "Can we just all introduce ourselves? Name and pronouns, please."

I barely catch onto the names as I sink back into my seat, eyes finding the ridiculously bright lights illuminating the room.

I catch onto a couple, though. There's a smaller kid, a mess of dark hair swirling over their head, and a baggy dark t-shirt hanging over their body, tucked into dark jeans.

"Monday," They say, nodding at where I'm seated, across the circle of chairs, "They/ them."

Another one I make sure to take note of is Ellie Evans, hair still falling to her shoulders. "Ellie. And my pronouns are she/her."