A/N: Ahh thank you guys so much for your responses to my first story! They were very helpful and intensely appreciated! This story here has taken me a while to finish, but I hope y'all enjoy nevertheless.
*****
"Do you remember Thomas?"
I placed my waffles and orange juice on the small kitchenette table and sat to eat. I could feel my brother's eyes watching me.
Slicing into my breakfast, I tried to recall anyone I knew named Thomas. "Uh... wait, that kid from high school? Tommy?" I asked. "Yeah, I kinda remember him. He was on the team, right?"
"Yeah. He was one of the star players and got a scholarship to Southern, for like, everything."
"Good for him, I guess." I drowned a piece of waffle in excess syrup. "Why do you bring him up?"
"Well, he's coming to visit me. He asked—"
"
Oh!"
I gasped. "Thomas was the kid with the missing arm! I didn't know he got a scholarship, that's friggin' amazing for someone with a fake limb!"
Marcus glared at me and said "Well,
yeah
, that's why he's so
memorable
, typically. Can you not interrupt me? That's rude? Thanks." He grimaced at his eggs. "I bring him up because, for some reason I can't understand, he asked about you."
I stopped chewing. "Me?" I said. I eyed my waffles and speared another piece with my fork. "Why would he ask about me? I barely talked to him."
"You never noticed that he had a huge crush on you?"
A shit-eating grin cracked his face in two as I guffawed in response. "Marcus, are you stupid? That boy did not have a crush on me."
"He came over all the time because he wanted to see you, Noelle. I mean, he also wanted to play GTA and eat all of our fucking food, but ugh, he told me all the time how hot he thought you were. It was pretty nast."
I didn't know how to react. I was flattered that I could've been the object of someone's affection, but I was pretty sure Marcus was bullshitting me. I was a toad in high school.
I thought about Tommy. I used to think he was kind of attractive, but he was two years my junior and I wasn't into younger guys. Immaturity and a lack of muscle hadn't been, and still weren't, my type. I'd seen him play ball, though, and I was impressed by how good he was despite the missing forearm.
"When is he coming down?" I asked.
"In like, two days. I'm gonna throw a small party in my dorm, if you wanna come."
"I doubt it's gonna be a 'small party'. But yeah, I'll come."
Marcus leaned back in his seat as his plate sat empty in front of him, and said, smirking, "You wanna scope him out now, don't cha?"
"What? No. I like parties. And it'd be nice to see him again, it's been like... four years." I finished drinking my orange juice and stood up. "Okay, you need to leave, I have a class soon."
After shooing Marcus out of the apartment, my mind wandered back to Thomas. In high school, he liked to crack jokes and fuck around, but you could tell that he was also ambitious. His left arm did nothing to slow his determination, and I found that admirable.
When I was in twelfth grade, he was in tenth. Even then, he had developed this low voice that had distinctive warmth to it, although you could tell he had yet to control it. His laughter was dumb, loud and carefree, and I remembered how he
would
come up with any excuse to touch me. He always made a point of greeting me when he came over. I'd never had a real conversation with him, but I liked him.
When I saw the time, I mumbled a curse and ran out of my apartment.
-
I dragged Crystal by her white hand down the dorm hallway, and she whined protests with each step.
"This is gonna suck so much! Jeez, just look at how
grody
this hall is."
"Crystal, this is one of the best, cleanest dormitories on the whole campus. Quit bitchin', we're gonna have a nice time if you drop the sourpuss act."
At my brother's door, you could hear music pumping into the corridor.
'Small party',
my ass. Marcus would use any excuse to throw some loud, code-violating shindig. He'd probably bribed the RAs with beer.
I skipped knocking and opened the door. Immediately, I was blasted with the stink of alcohol, and there must've been at least ten people stuffed into the little kitchenette. Crystal and I took off our shoes and wandered into one of the two little bedrooms.
Another six or seven people were sitting and laughing on the bed pushed up against the wall, while a few kids I recognized played Just Dance, screaming and yelling. They were intoxicated and terrible.
I spotted Marcus, and he sprung up from the bed, pulling me into a hug. He actually smelled nice.
"Hello, Noelle.
How art thou this e'en
?" he slurred.
"I'm fine, Marc. Say hi to Crystal."
He dragged her into a passive embrace. She sighed, "Hi, Marcus. I see you're toasted." He smiled and danced his way out of the room while Crystal plopped onto a nearby beanbag chair.
I leaned against the wall, watching the players botch almost every move. They were entertaining, but I couldn't shake my growing feeling of apprehension.
I wouldn't admit that it was Thomas making me light-chested, but it was. Turns out I remembered quite a bit about him. My brother met him in ninth grade, and they had been best friends ever since. He was at my house all the time and they spent whole summers together.
He was my brother's friend, but I realized that
I
knew him pretty well, too. Even if Marcus was messing with me about the whole crush thing, it psyched me out enough to make me hope that I was at least hotter than I was in high school. I mean, I
thought
I was. I tried to keep my dry brown skin as moisturized as possible, and since getting a job, I could afford to wear something other than hand-me-downs. I still fretted, though, hating myself for worrying so much about a guy's impression of me.
I watched Crystal survey the room from her low perch with mild interest. The dancers were sweaty with musical exhaustion and only caught her eye for a second before her gaze settled on something behind me. I turned around.
My breath left me and my eyebrows shot clear off my forehead.
Jesus.
Thomas. He looked... quite a bit different.
