The teenagers in school always joke around about how lunch is their favorite subject, because for some reason eating is funny now a days, but not for me. Never for me.
It's not that I mind eating, or eating in front of people, but it's the noise. And the crowd. All through grade school, middle school, even now as a senior I hate the lunch room. It's something about hundreds of kids cooped up in a single huge room, their overly loud voices bouncing and echoing around the high ceilinged cafeteria that just gets under my skin. I have always felt uneasy in large crowds, so pep rallies and football games (like I would go to any) are horrible for me as well.
Kirstie and I always had our secluded little table in the corner opposite the door, filled with our closest friends and colleagues, most of them from choir. Scott used to sit in the stereotypical 'jock' table, even though he didn't play any sports like the others.
Now, as I'm laughing hysterically at a silly quarrel Scott and Kirstie are debating over, I realize I feel much more relaxed I am when I forget about how loud it is and focus more on other things. I actually completely forgot the sound of screaming high schoolers for a moment there.
"No, you idiot, dogs are so much better!" Kirstie says, tone slightly offended.
"No, nope, you're so wrong! Cats are the best." Scott shoots back.
"But cats are heartless things with no feelings, and they don't do anything all day! Dogs are snuggly and loyal! You can't look me in the eye and tell me that you wouldn't pick a dog over a cat to snuggle up with."
"Hold on," he scoots close up to her face over the table, staring her in the eyes, "I wouldn't pick a dog over a cat to snuggle with." She slaps his arm. "And plus, dogs stink, they're super messy. I'm even allergic to cats, but I'd rather be sneezing a lot than wiping up pee stains and shit piles."
"If you train them correctly, they'll go to the bathroom outside!"
"If you actually show affection to a cat it'll do the same to you!"
"Guys, stop!" I giggle, taking a sip of my water.
"Well, what're your thoughts on this, Mishy? Cats or dogs? Demons or Angels?" Kirstie smirks at her own joke.
"Yeah, which would you choose?"
"Hmm." I tap my chin in faux contemplation. "That's a hard one. I don't have a cat or anything."
"Yup. And he's adorable." Scott adds.
"You've seen him, like, once!" Kirstie contradicts.
"Sure, but he's still adorable! You can't deny it."
"He has a cute face, but he's a little freaking devil! Mitch, you say all the time that you'd love to snap his neck. You can't deny that."
"Yeah, well, sometimes we don't get along because we're so much alike."
Kirstie snorts. "You're not wrong."
"Of course not!" I give her a sassy smile, popping a grape in my mouth.
"I feel like your only agreeing with Scott because your tongues are best friends." She rolls her eyes as I shrug.
"That could be a factor. I think your getting upset 'cause you're jelous."
"You're hilarious."
"You're not wrong." I smirk, sticking my tongue out at her pissed-off face.
She scoffs, animalistically biting her peanut butter sandwich with vigor, shifting her eyes from me to pout. I make eye contact with Scott for a moment, both of us busting out laughing.
~~~
After school I drove home with Scott, strategically sneaking into his house to check if his mom was home, and to our relief, she wasn't. Now, as I lay on his bed next to him, on my back, my legs resting vertically up the wall as I stare at the ceiling, I feel the most relaxed I've been in a long time.
We've been playing a disorganized version of 20 questions for nearly an hour, learning as much as we can about each other.
"Hey Berry, have you ever kissed a girl before?" he questions me, staring up at the ceiling as well.
"No. Well... kind of, I guess. I kissed Kirstie once at a party as a dare, but it was after I had already had come out, so it didn't really count."
"Ah... Is she a good kisser?" I can hear the grin in his voice, and I roll my eyes.
"What, are you planning on ditching me for her?" He laughs, his chest shaking as he mimics my eye rolling. "Actually, she was, if I'm being honest. If I were a hetero I would probably be all over that girl."
"How many guys have you kissed?"
"Sis, that's your third question! It's my turn." I pause. "Around five, maybe, excluding you... but that's not important, I have to think of a good question to ask you..."
He reaches over to lace if fingers through mine as I think, examining my knuckles. I give him a weird look and he ignores me, playing with my nails.
"What's your favorite thing about me? Personality-wise." I ask, genuinely curious.
This question takes him by surprise, raising the eyebrow-less muscles on his browbone.
"Oh, that's hard... the choices are so limited..." I slap his jaw lightly. "Ow! I'm kidding! They're unlimited, honestly. I really love when you talk really fast when you're excited or passionate about something, and your voice gets higher."
"No, I hate when that happens!"
"It's adorable! I also love how hard you laugh. And how you laugh at all of my jokes, even though most of them are stupid and lame." He gives me one of his iconic, contagious smiles. "You're also super protective of the people you care about. One of the main ones, though, is that you're so confident and in-tune with yourself; you know who you are and you don't care what other people think. It's hot."
I giggle, my face pink from all of the compliments.
"Thank you..."
"Of course. I could talk about the things I like about you all day."
"You're so cheesy."
"You love it."
We go silent for a moment, savoring the feeling of each other's hand in the bundle of fingers and confusing romantic feelings laying between our bodies. He takes a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak, but he stops, contemplating whether or not to continue or keep quiet. Clearing his throat, he tries again.
"What do you think we are?" He asks, barely above a whisper. The question kind of shocks me into a silence, my eyes wide. "What do you want to be?"
"Um," I start, the volume of my voice matching his, "I would really like to label us as 'more than friends', if that's what you mean."
"Me too. I told my mom we were dating, so... is that what you want?"
"Yes." I state simply.
"Would you like to... be my boyfriend, Mitch?"
That word, that singular word that he utters changes the mood of the room in an instance. 'Boyfriend'. The word feels juvenile, immature, childish, almost; yet so adult and impactful at the same time. It's strange how significant the two-syllable word can be in a sentence, changing the whole meaning of our intertwined fingers and quickly-beating hearts. It's such a platitude term that it seems almost meaningless compared to the feelings that I actually have for this boy. I turn my head to look in his eyes, beaming at him while my chest warms, a ripening fruit surrounded in warm air and new-found sunlight.
"Of course I will, Scott! What kind of question is that?" His face breaks into an almost painful looking smile, so wide his dimples show profusely against his angular face.
"Oh my gosh, Mitchy!" I chuckle as he pulls me to strattle his stomach, my back resting against his legs. "Mitch Grassi, my boyfriend. My Berry Beautiful Boyfriend."
"Jesus..." I giggle, rolling my eyes at the horribly-adorable pun.
"I've got one more question for you, Berry." He says, placing a warm palm on my cheek and tracing my lips with his thumb.
"And what is that, Scorch?"
"Why am I not kissing you yet?" Scott's eyes are trained on my mouth, his thumb still running back and forth on my bottom lip.
"You tell me, big guy." I lean in, closing my eyes when my mouth less than a millimeter from his.
I can practically feel the energy between our lips, like static electricity transferring from a blanket to fleece pajama pants, or lighting to the grass in a springtime storm. It sends my heart racing and my lips tingling, anticipating the contact that is yet to come.
When he finally closes the gap, my shoulders relax and my hands cup the sides of his face, shifting my weight to be more comfortable. I know full well I'll be in this position for a while.
I smile against his lips, absolutely elated. I can't wait to tell my father.
~~~