As Jonah wandered into his second lesson that Tuesday, his maths class having settled quite quickly, his gaze landed immediately on the table he'd been placed at when he first entered the class, leading his eyes to the occupied seat in the front corner of the room, opposite his place at the table. There he saw the back of a mess of ash brown, curly hair, catching a glimpse of the person's face as he leaned to one side, his hand disappearing briefly into his bag, allowing Jonah to see that it was definitely Connor sitting in his usual seat. Jonah approached him, sitting opposite him in his own assigned seat. The moment Connor looked up from his fingernails to look at him, a smile spread across his face, mirroring the beam Jonah was delivering to him.
"Good to see you're better," Jonah began, noting that the colour had returned to his friend's face and the light had returned to his eyes; he looked just as youthful as he had done the previous week before he got sick.
"Good to not be stuck in my house," Connor seemed to have chuckled back, "where I have a dad who still gives me homework, by the way."
Jonah laughed with Connor as they spoke, although the shorter male's voice was still slightly rough. Although noticeable, it didn't seem to bother Connor, which meant to Jonah that it wasn't worth pointing out. With another look at his face, watching as Connor's expression softened and became neutral, Jonah took note of the slightly pink tint that dusted his friend's cheeks; a tint that didn't show any signs of fading. He assumed that Connor must still be slightly flustered following the illness that seemed to leave him slightly feverish at the very least, however, like the slight difference in his voice, Connor didn't seem bothered by it at all. This was Jonah's justification for not pointing out these changes.
As their second lesson progressed as planned, something did play at the shorter boy's mind. He thought about the weekend, the previous day and the Friday that had passed them by. Of all the thoughts he had, there were two things he focussed on the most; Jonah Lane and Christine Scott.
The boy had never seen himself as overly popular, although accepted so that he may have the chance to be if he decided that he wanted to become closer to the much more 'popular' students. He was 'welcome' among them, and yet his chosen friends were the boy who his father had entrusted to him and a young woman with a bad habit of smoking when she felt out of her depth. He heard his own voice saying this in his head, repeating the words over and over, as though he was trying to re-evaluate his choices in friends. Although, as the young man seemed to reconsider, all thoughts against his 'close' friends subsided very quickly, his gaze travelling upwards to lock onto Jonah, who was staring on ahead at the whiteboard, reading the 'learning intention' that their teacher had written in her messy handwriting.
Jonah was a great friend, Connor thought, leading him to think much more about his fleeting relationship with the redhead girl. Connor's expression seemed to darken as he thought about the comment he had made regarding their friendship a few days previously, telling Jonah that their lack of closeness was causing a strange feeling of loneliness. Then, three days later, Christine Scott had texted him, showing concern for him. It had come as a pleasant surprise as he checked his phone, having been sat awake in bed that morning, his laptop on his bedside table, playing a YouTube video to entertain him while he stayed home alone. The screen had displayed the name 'Chris', who he'd barely expected to be the one to talk to him that day. Her message had read, 'How're you feeling? I hope you're getting better.'
A sweet gesture from a person he didn't consider overly 'sweet'. Connor realised while thinking of the sentiment that it wasn't common for Christine Scott to send him a message other than inviting him to meet her outside during lunch or morning break while she had a cigarette. Her message brought a smile to his face, even though it somewhat confused him and he didn't waste time in responding with a friendly but simple, 'I'm doing fine, thanks.'
He hadn't heard from her for the remainder of the day and, the next morning, she didn't invite him outside, so he remained inside his physics classroom to allow himself extra time to revise fissions and chain reactions.
Connor rested his chin on his palm and his elbow on the desk, his expression still dark as he took a breath, thinking about the girl who he questioned calling his 'good friend'.
At last, the question came, the lower voice of the dark-haired boy interrupting the thought process that Connor had trapped himself in.
"Are you okay?" Jonah questioned, having looked from the board and back to the young man opposite him, noticing that his friend's expression seemed troubled. Finally, he posed the question about his wellbeing.
For a second, Connor appeared startled, taking a moment to understand that the question had been directed at him. In an attempt to further prove that the question required the young man to answer, Jonah raised his eyebrows once he saw Connor's green eyes land on him.
"Uh, yeah," Connor's eyes brightened again, showing a smile, "I'm okay."
Jonah looked out for him already. He was a good friend; a great friend, who had arrived at his door on short notice on Saturday, who had comforted him when he felt lonely and he had asked if he was doing alright on more than one occasion. That was nice, to say the least, but he'd never had that with Christine.
Connor took a few seconds to consider a possibility, eventually forming a plan out of it, making a mental note to consult Jonah on joining him in executing this plan. However, his thought process was interrupted once again, his gaze landing on his hand, on which he felt a slight pressure, something soft touching him extremely gently. He saw immediately that the source of the pressure was Jonah's hand as he lightly caressed his knuckles, the smaller boy smiling when he saw his pale skin, so light in comparison to Jonah's that appeared golden in the light of the classroom, before directing his smile up to the other male. Jonah's smile was soft and inviting as he tilted his head a tiny fraction to his right, their eyes locked.
This was why, Connor thought. This was why he'd never had this with Christine Scott or anyone else. Jonah was kind to him immediately
"Do you think you're going to be available at some point this weekend?" Connor asked him quietly, the boy's hands never separating.
"Depends on what time," Jonah shrugged, still smiling. "My mum wants us to go out together at some point this weekend."
The other male thought about his schedule, bouncing his knee under the table as he thought about his shift at the store. "Anytime after half-past one on Saturday or before one on Sunday. I'm at work otherwise."
Now, it was Jonah's turn to think, considering his mother's schedule as well as his own. Considering his was cleared, having made no attempt to make plans at all, in fact even since he'd settled in his new house, he knew that, whatever time or place his friend chose, he'd undoubtedly be alright with it. His mother, however, was still searching for work after their move, which was one of the reasons she wanted to visit the high street with her son that weekend, and she'd want to make the journey as soon as she could. Saturday morning, it seemed would be alright to execute her plan, however, Jonah made a mental note to double check when he arrived at home.
"I'll check, but I think Saturday should be fine. Why? What do you want to do?"
"I want to take you and Chris out for a while," Connor said, looking down at the table to avoid eye contact, slightly afraid of how Jonah would respond.
His reaction was to squint slightly in confusion, his hand still resting on his friend's.
"Sure, but I don't think she likes me," he admitted. Connor looked back up quite quickly.
"I want her to, that's the thing," he laughed, slightly awkwardly, "and I think it'd be nice to spend time with her while she's not ranting and smoking. I want to spend time with my friends."
"Well, okay, I understand and I'm not opposed to trying to be her friend, but how come you guys never hung out before?"
"Because I didn't realise how bad it was getting," Connor admitted, turning over the hand underneath Jonah's to hold it properly. Connor's light grip wasn't returned by the dark-haired male for a few seconds, his expression softening to one that seemed slightly saddened.
"Sorry," he said, looking down, "I feel like it's my fault. I'm taking you away from her."
Connor gave his hand a light squeeze, still smiling in hopes of reassuring his friend. "It's fine. If I was complaining too much, I wouldn't hang around with you. Remember, I have the chance to talk to other people; I just don't."
The corner of Jonah's mouth twitched, smiling briefly as he exhaled through his nose, now returning the light squeeze on his friend's hand.
"Yeah, well, I hope she's okay with me hanging around with you," Jonah sighed as he spoke quietly, a slight smile returning to pull at his lips. "I like you, you're cool and kinda sweet."
Connor hadn't expected this conversation to become emotional, meaning he also never anticipated receiving personal compliments. He hid his face, a slight pink tint dusting his cheeks as he bit his lip to hide the wide smile that was threatening his lips. The young man's eyes focused on Jonah, his head still down, staring at his classmate through the hair that fell in front of his face, where he saw Jonah's face shift, trying to stop himself from laughing at how flustered Connor had become so quickly.
"Don't say a thing," the shorter boy said with a short laugh, "but thanks, Jonah. Just don't flatter me while I'm sat in math class, okay?"
Jonah shrugged again, "but I think I can get something sorted for Saturday afternoon," he directed the conversation back to the original subject, "and I'll tell you when I know what's going on, okay?"
"Let's just hope Chris is okay with whatever arrangement we come to," Connor nodded.
"Jonah, Connor, I hope you're talking about your work." The boy's attention was drawn over to the teacher, whose voice made them let go of each other's hands immediately, triggering a thought for Connor. The boys saw their teacher from her chair on the other side of the room, staring at the two of them with her eyebrows raised, questioning them on their conversational topic.
"Sorry," Jonah called over, looking back down at the booklet that he hadn't touched since sitting down in the classroom. Connor's attention was also drawn back to his work, but the thought lingered. Speaking much quieter, Connor asked, "Jonah, why do you hold my hand so much?"
Jonah looked back up at him in silence, no clear expression on his face as he thought about the question that he'd just been asked, his lips slightly parted and his brows slightly raised.
"I don't know," he said quietly, in a tone that wasn't overly convincing to the other boy, "I never really thought about it too much. Should I stop?"
"No," Connor answered immediately, before adding, "It's just nice. I feel like I'm close to someone." And he looked back down to the work booklet on the desk. As did Jonah, who thought about the question, hearing his voice asking him the same thing on repeat, his head replaying it like a broken record. Then, more questions followed. Jonah asked himself about their friendship, asking himself, 'can I trust him enough with this personal information about myself? Has my constant hand-holding tipped him off to it anyway?' This was followed by, 'will he still want to be my friend and hold my hand when he finds out?' He became afraid, as he'd not thoroughly thought through what'd happen when he had made friends that he wanted to speak to about who he was and who he liked. He'd lost friends in his old school. He was left with his old friend who then had also left and moved elsewhere shortly before he did. He hadn't told her that he'd moved yet, nor had he told her about Connor or anything to do with school. they'd fallen out of contact and lost their significance in the other's life. Jonah took a breath, redirecting his thought process. His decision became final; not yet and definitely not in school or around Christine Scott. He'd wait.
As his mind eased, finally focusing on his work, Jonah failed to notice Connor watching him from behind his hair again, scribbling his answers in a messy, curved line as his gaze diverted from the page.
'Leave him be,' he told himself. 'He'll tell you whatever's bothering him when he wants to or when he's ready to.'
The atmosphere seemed to feel gradually more awkward for both of them as their class progressed, both glad when the clock struck midday, meaning they were to make their way to their next lesson, which happened to be another class where they sit beside each other; English. The boys stood up, Jonah moving slower than his classmates as he pushed himself out of the chair. He stopped dead in his tracks, suddenly seeing a hand extended in front of him, looking confused at it before looking up to the owner's face, seeing Connor, whose smile seemed to hold a hint of concern or something that made him seem apologetic. Jonah's usual wide smile appeared on his face as he reached and took his hand, gently and subtly caressing his knuckles like he had done previously, before standing and letting him go. In comfortable silence, they made their way to their English classroom, sitting down on the far side of the room.
The pair of them sat in content silence as their shared desk, their books having already been laid in their places during the time that it took for Mr Price's previous class to leave and his next class arriving. As their teacher placed the last book down on the student's desk, he approached the boys in the front corner.
"Shirt tucked in, Jonah," was the first thing he said, the dark-haired boy letting out a sarcastic sigh, a smile appearing on his face as he stood and began stuffing his shirt into his trousers.
"Are you okay this morning?" This time, Simon's question was directed at his son, who nodded with a sweet smile, refusing to speak to avoid his dad hearing that his voice was still rough.
"Good. Now, time to get started with class. Don't want to be accused of favouritism."
With this final comment, Simon turned and stood at the front of the classroom.
Jonah sat down, having now tucked in his shirt, letting out a quiet groan as he did so.
"Thought I'd get away with it today," he whispered to Connor, who shook his head with a smile, exhaling through his nose.
Jonah's gaze lingered on him for a few seconds, watching as he turned the pages in his book to find the next empty sheet of lined paper, after which Connor laid his hand on the table. He almost felt someone looking at him, causing the shorter boy to look to one side at Jonah, catching his gaze and raising an eyebrow to question what he wanted. Jonah gave him a smile; his kind and inviting smile, the smaller of the two smiling back with a quiet laugh before directing his gaze back to the front of the classroom, hearing his father's voice calling for the class's attention.
Only minutes later, Jonah felt the same feeling, the pressure and discomfort as he seemed to convince himself that someone was watching him. The rest of the class at work already, he turned his head and almost immediately made eye contact with a classmate, seated in the middle of the room. In fact, both she and the boy she shared her desk with were staring. The girl stared in a way that made her dark eyes intimidating, judging him silently. The boy beside her seemed to be laughing, his shoulders moving up and down and his face twisted into an uncontrollable smirk. Jonah shrugged, looking at them with his eyebrows raised, questioning them on their actions, but the only response he got was the boy gently hitting the girls elbow as they continued to stare. Finally, after a few seconds, the girl's eyes moved down before returning to him. As the dark-haired boy followed her gaze, he only saw that she had gestured to Connor. Once again, he shrugged at them.
The girl rolled her eyes, looking back down at her work, meanwhile, the boy that sat beside her seemed fascinated by the two boys. Eventually, Jonah turned back around and continued too, glancing to his left at Connor every so often.
Amongst the chatter of the room, Jonah still heard distant sniggering, which was, not only insulting but also undoubtedly annoying to more than just him. His thought was shared by his friend, it seemed, as Connor eventually turned around too, muttering.
"Who keeps laughing?"
He saw the two in the middle of the room, the girl now looking at the male who seemed to still be staring as he laughed. The two were talking quietly, but every time she said something, he'd continue his annoying sniggering. Soon, he pointed at the front corner again, right at Connor, who looked back at him with a confused expression.
It was then that the boy mouthed something, the word only seemed to have one syllable, as after a single movement of his mouth, he was done. However, Connor didn't understand what it was that he was saying. Having received no reaction, the boy did it again, this time making the girl beside him chuckle.
It seemed as though he was about to do it again, but was interrupted and startled quite suddenly by a loud voice.
In the height of his tormenting of the two at the front of the room, he'd forgotten where he was and who his teacher was.
"Mason! Millie! This isn't the time or place to become clowns. You have work to do," Mr Price called out, surprising the rest of the class too.
Connor looked back to his work, keeping his head down to hide the smile dancing on his lips. This was a relatively easy task until he heard the boy beside him exhale deeply.
"Jesus Christ," Jonah breathed out, his body tense, his hand having instinctively jutted out and gripped Connor's arm at the height of his shock.
"I warned you. He does that," Connor whispered back.
Jonah simply gave him a smile, relaxing as he continued to write, Connor quite oblivious to what it was that 'Mason' and 'Millie' were laughing at. Jonah, however, was very aware. He found it funny; their immaturity was funny to him. To be fair so was hearing the whole class, including himself, simultaneously gasp as the sound of their teacher's sudden yelling.
Everyone was silent for a few minutes after that, the chatter returning slower and quieter than before.
The slightly uncomfortable situation involving his classmates, Mason and Millie, seemed to have left Jonah, at the very least, relatively amused. The boy decided to ignore the discomforting nature of them staring, laughing and mocking, and instead, he let himself laugh. Although the laughter was entirely internal, his amusement remaining unknown to the rest of his class, even as the lesson was interrupted as the students ventured to the lunch hall for food, Jonah left the room smiling to himself.
"Are you okay?" He heard the boy at his side ask him. "What're you smiling about?"
The two's knuckles brushed together, Connor guiding his hand to his friend's, linking their smallest fingers as he once again led him down the hall to the cafeteria.
"I found it funny; Millie and Mason trying to be mean and looking stupid," he spoke quietly, at last letting his laugh out during his speech.
Connor smiled in return, having chosen to forget such a pointless exchange of wasted glances, meaninglessly shared as his attention momentarily fell upon them. Though, as they walked, they remained in yet another comfortable silence, yet despite the lack of noise between the two of them, neither of the two noticed that they were being approached until Connor felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned on his heels, halting Jonah in the process as he came face to face with the red-head girl.
"Chris, where were you for the first half of English?" was his first question for the girl who had approached them, having noticed her absence in the classroom until now.
"Outside," she said, bluntly, "your dad's boring as hell."
Connor rolled his eyes in slight annoyance at both her refusal to come to class and the comment she had made regarding his father. "Can I assume that you won't be going back to English after lunch? Even if we only have a few minutes before our last period?"
"You can bloody bet on it," the ginger girl spat, raising her voice, "and while you're at it, might as well put some extra money down for my absence in drama. Whether I botch my group's final piece or not, I regret choosing it."
This time, Connor sighed, seeing that Christine Scott seemed to be in an even worse mood today than most other days that he'd seen.
"Let's just go to lunch, okay Chris?" Connor turned back around as he invited her to join them, looking back over his shoulder to add, "I have something to ask you."
Without another word, Christine watched as her friend apologised to Jonah, who'd been standing in silence the whole time, finally drawing the girl's attention to him. Her face seemed to fall upon seeing him, noticing that the dark-haired boy avoided her gaze as though her glare would be the end of him. Although, Jonah seemed to be thinking the same thing, in his head repeating the words, 'if looks could kill.' He thought to himself that, if it were possible, then Christine Scott was the most deadly woman of their generation and would probably have the majority of the school six foot under by this point. He thought about how easy it'd be for this current moment to be his last, but then recalled the look she had given him when they first met the previous week. 'I'd have dropped dead days ago,' he thought to himself.
She raised an eyebrow at him, her glare burning into the side of his head.
"Are we going to go to lunch, or are you two going to stare at each other all day?" She finally interrupted his thought process, Jonah's gaze meeting hers momentarily as he sent a quick smile her way, then he took Connor's hand and they continued down the hallway, keeping as close together as they could so as to not get separated and consumed by the crowd of other students in their year that grouped up and lingered in the hallway. Jonah decided to lead the three of them, keeping a tight hold on Connor's hand and a comfortable distance from the girl behind him.
Connor wants us to get along, he wants her to like me, so give her a reason to like you, he thought to himself, unable to think of anything he could do until they turned the corner, descended the stairs and found themselves one doorway away from the lunch hall where the majority of their year group gathered. The three teens pushed through the other students through the open door, immediately hit by the scent of the canteen food. Jonah checked behind him, making sure they were all still walking together. As he could feel from the grip on his hand, Connor was still there, however, it took a few seconds for Christine Scott to emerge through the taller students, a strange mix of embarrassment and irritation on her face.
"Are you okay?" Jonah chuckled, picking up on her overall negative expression. She seemed taken aback by his question for a few seconds before she pouted, looking away from him.
"Short girl problems," she mumbled, looking at the ground.
"But you're not short," Jonah pointed out.
Her previously established rough demeanour seemed to collapse sometimes, as Jonah had noticed. This was one occasion, another being when she gave in and agreed to text Connor the previous day, and whenever it did, Jonah felt that there was a tiny slither of hope to build up a friendship with the isolated ginger girl. However, this crack in her defences didn't last.
"Well, don't wait for me, let's go." She nudged Jonah's back, Connor sniggering at their interaction as he followed the two of them to the far corner of the room, to one of the tables by the window; where Christine Scott loved sitting when she wasn't eating outside. Luckily, neither of the boys complained about her choice in space, sitting beside one another on the opposite side of the table to her, fishing through their bags for the pre-made lunches that they favoured to the food served in school.
"This is good," Connor began quickly, opening the small clips on the sides of the plastic container in which his food was stored, "that we're all sitting together, because I have something to ask you, Chris."
Her attention was on him immediately. "You need a favour? she questioned.
"It's not really a favour, just a plan I had. Are you busy on Saturday afternoon?" he asked, feeling both hers and Jonah's eyes on him, "because if you are then would you like to meet me and Jonah once I'm done with work?"
"For what? To do what?" Christine Scott made a displeased face.
"So that the three of us can hang out, talk and so that we can expose Jonah as we find out his secrets," the boy joked, his gaze landing on the male at his side with a smile, earning him a nudge and a snigger. Christine Scott looked at the pair of them, her eyebrow still raised, wondering to herself what could be so interesting about the new boy across the table from her. Finally, she sighed, her face settling as she looked back at them with much softer eyes.
"If you want to, then fine," she spoke calmly, "you finish work at one o'clock?"
Connor nodded, looking back to her upon hearing her voice, confirming the time she can expect him to finish his shift.
"Cool, I'll be outside when you're done," she said before she continued eating her food.
With a sigh from Connor, the boy's also began eating, the three of them sitting in a silence that seemed to cause the minutes to drag on much longer than they should have, the three students not caring much for conversation. They seemed to enjoy the lack of interaction between them until they all heard a voice, shouting as it drew nearer, and suddenly a new face appeared at the table. He had dark skin and even darker eyes, a look of exhaustion on his face as he slammed his hands down on the edge of the lunch table. As the three looked up, Christine Scott seemed clueless as to who he was, however, Jonah and Connor both recognised him as Daniel, who Jonah had met the day before and Connor had known since the beginning of the school year.
"Connor, where the hell were you yesterday, I needed you," he blurted out, his voice raised, "I needed your answers for the homework we got in physics."
"I am so terribly sorry, Daniel," Connor spoke, putting on a strange accent. His change in voice caused Jonah to look down at him with a look of surprised amusement, the dark-haired boy trying not to laugh while he listened to him speak, "but you see, during the time you required my aid in successfully turning in suitable answers to our teacher, I was on a twenty-four hour trip to the land of the unconscious while I attempted to not projectile vomit my lungs across my bedroom."
Daniel stared at him with his eyebrows raised, Christine Scott lowered her head, smiling to herself, whilst Jonah made it clear that he was laughing.
"You sound like someone from Downton Abbey," he pointed out, causing Connor to snigger at his comment before then letting his attention fall back to Daniel.
"Sorry, Dan, I was ill," he explained, speaking in his usual accent, "what did sir say about it?"
"I got half of 'em wrong. It's fine, he showed me what I didn't figure out myse-," Daniel nodded, looking away, silencing himself when he saw the redhead girl sitting opposite the boys, unnoticed due to his predetermined agenda. The boy leaned closer to the other males at the table, seeing that his staring hadn't been noticed by the girl that sat with them. He addressed Jonah as he spoke.
"She terrifies everyone," he said in a low whisper, to which Jonah simply shrugged, not saying anything. "She's not snapped at you yet?"
"She tried," he responded, "I guess I just know how to tame a wild beast."
"You're a dog yourself," Daniel commented with a chuckle. Both boys looked at him, very amused, but equally confused. "Well, she's taken enough of a liking to one of you to sit inside today."
"And that'd be this guy," Jonah gestured to Connor, who said nothing, letting Daniel continue to speak.
"Honestly, you're lucky. Someone like that doesn't like anyone. I've known her since year six, always had a thing for her, but she doesn't talk to anyone, pretty much."
Connor decided now to respond, speaking a little louder in hopes of his ginger friend hearing what he was to say "Maybe she'll talk to you."
Christine Scott looked up at the three boys at the table, seeing Daniel stepping back, laughing awkwardly as he repeated the word, 'no.'
"She ain't gonna like me," he said before accidentally making eye contact with the girl in question, who placed her elbow on the table and rested her chin in her palm.
"Continue," she said, simply.
"Nah, I'm alright," Daniel looked around before turning and walking away from the table.
"What was that about?" She then asked Connor.
"No idea," he lied, "and Jonah, I was going for a more Game of Thrones feel."
Jonah smiled, nodding, "Should've sworn and called him a bastard, then I would've gotten it. That's all I know about that show."
His comment brought another smile to Connor's face, causing him to laugh for a short while before he spoke again, "so, Saturday?" He asked both of them.
"Saturday." They responded at once.