Cinderfella

I had decided that I wouldn't tell Sunnie about the Hamish-P.E. interaction, just to have that happy, bubbling feeling of a secret. I don't know what I was thinking- I've never kept a secret from Sunnie in my life. But, with Hamish... I don't know. It just felt like something very private; so personal to my feelings that despite Sunnie's uncanny ability to understand me, she just wouldn't understand this, not fully. Although the interaction had, from a distance, been very trivial and brief, to me it was a big break-through. Since I'd been ogling him and he was popular and gorgeous and he hadn't treated me like a stray cat.

As silly as it was, I wanted to let my and Hamish's little talk tumble about in me. So that I could put far more weight on it than it had actually meant and I could daydream about him and let my imagination take that conversation to wild and dramatic places. It was lame and overly romantic and made me feel vulnerable just thinking about it. So, I kind of wanted to keep it to myself.

My resolve to keep the Hamish thing a secret crumpled like a house of card when I saw Sunnie a second or two after P.E.

"Hey," Sunnie had said.

I pressed my lips together, fighting my damnedest to keep it in, but then: pleh! Sang like a freakin' mockingbird.

"Hamish talked to me! Like just to me, right at me. Next to me on a bench," I blurted. Blurted.

"What?" Sunnie said, blinking.

"Hamish!" I yelped.

People passing us in the hall looked at me, because of my exclamation, and Sunnie and I automatically looked around us self-consciously. I grabbed Sunnie's upper arm and dragged her across the semi-circular lounge adjacent to the gym to the drama room. It's never locked; the drama teacher, Ms. Kosar leaves it open for the drama kids to hang out in between classes. She recognizes that we're kind of losers and need somewhere to hang out where we don't look painfully awkward and alone.

When I pulled Sunnie into the room, I had anticipated we would be alone (since, most sadly, there aren't that many drama geeks in our school), but there were one or two underclassmen milling around in there. Ick: zitty, gawky, dorky underclassmen. I conveniently forgot they were my brethren and made a face at them, me and my nice hair feeling stuck-up. But I needed to be talk alone with Sunnie, so I turned and dragged her into the wardrobe closet.

"What are you talking about? Hamish is in your English class. There are no benches in English class," Sunnie said pointedly as I closed the door behind us.

"No, no, no," I said, flapping my hands impatiently. "I talked to Hamish in P.E.-"

"Hamish is in your P.E. class?! You ass, why didn't you tell me?? First English and then now P.E.? Fynn, come on!" Sunnie barraged and smacked my arm.

I flinched under her slap; not really because it hurt, just because I was riled up.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to keep it from you- I was going to tell you, I just forgot; like, it slipped my mind- ok look, that's besides the point," I said in a rush.

Sunnie folded her arms across her chest, still peeved that I hadn't told her about Hamish being in my P.E. class.

"We were playing basketball, right, and I was sitting on the bench, like, sitting out a shift and then, like, out of nowhere, Hamish is suddenly sitting next to me!" I said. "Like-" I slid over to Sunnie's side and stood right next to her, showing her how close Hamish had sat next to me.

Sunnie looked at my shoulder, her blonde eyebrows flying up in surprise.

"Literally right, like, this," I said, gesturing at our proximity. "And he says 'hey' and I said 'hey' back," I went on, rolling my hand over the normal part of the conversation. "And then he says 'way to go'-"

"Way to go about what?" Sunnie interrupted.

"About the- well that's what I said!" I said, pointing at her. "I didn't know what he was talking about so I was like, uh, yeah I was like 'what?' and he said 'how did you get two girls at once?' and I-"

"What?" Sunnie interrupted again.

My shoulders slumped and I realized I was really fucking up the story. I took a breath to collect myself, and then started at the beginning; with Ursula and Alice preening me (and I realized that in this version I got to include Hamish looking at me first) and then I reenacted my and his brief dialogue.

When I was done (which, really, only took about thirty seconds), Sunnie's blue eyes were huge.

"Oh my God. You lucky bastard!" she said, not all that kindly, but she was starting to smile.

"I know!" I giggled.

Sunnie smacked my arm again, grinning. "Hamish talked to you! Like, he looked at you and talked to you- ah! I mean, yeah, he talks to everyone-"

I gave her such a disheartened face that she immediately backtracked.

"But, but regardless! He talked to you and nobody talks to you-"

"Sunnie!" I protested. Even though it was kinda true.

"Well, it's one or the other, Fynn!" Sunnie said hysterically, raising her palms. "Either he talks to everyone or nobody ever talks to you, which do you want??"

"He- I-..." Fuck me. "Ok, let's just, let's focus on what's important," I said firmly.

Sunnie nodded, her face serious and she was glad to get put on track. That's the funny thing about Sunnie: on the flip-side of her bluster and craziness, she gets side-tracked and mixed up easily and needs someone to help keep her on a cohesive train of thought. It's a bit of a social ADD.

"Sunnie... Hamish talked to me. He was nice and friendly and, yeah, maybe he's like that with everyone... but I was included in the everyone," I said and blinked at that. A small bud of realization bloomed in me, in a slow, gentle sort of way.

That's why I felt so happy after Hamish had talked to me. He had made me a part of his everyone. And, you know, so what if that doesn't make me special? I'm a teenager: all I want is to be included, not cast out.

My happy little epiphany must have been clear on my face, because Sunnie got this sappy smile on her face.

"Aw, Fynny!" she sighed and then hugged me, resting her head on my chest.

I hate it when she calls me that. Mostly because, no matter what, I'm still just a guy and when a girl adds a 'y' to the end of my name it makes my stomach turn. But Sunnie forgets/doesn't care that I don't like to be called 'Fynny' and lets the nickname slip out anyway.

"Yeah," I said quietly, most of my attention absorbed in thinking about Hamish and his casual inclusion of me into his circle. I patted Sunnie's back absent mindedly while she nuzzled my pectoral muscle.

After a moment, she released me and straightened up, looking at my face.

"Hey, so what are you going to say when he talks to you next?" she asked.

I blinked. "What?"

Sunnie shrugged. "When he talks to you next, what are you gonna say?"

"Next? Why would he talk to me again?" I've got pretty stellar self esteem, huh?

Sunnie's shoulders sagged a little, displeased with my lack of confidence. "Come on, Fynn. He could totally talk to you again," she said and gestured at me. "I mean, from the way your first conversation went, assuming you were telling the truth-"

I gave her a look.

"Anyway, it sounds like it was totally nice and not weird and I don't see any reason why he should avoid you," Sunnie said and then folded her arms across her chest.

"What if-" I broke off and my throat clenched up a little. "What if... what if one of his friends tells him that I'm, you know, gay and he doesn't talk to me again?" I worried. And oh the potential, unjust rejection stung at my heart fiercely, making it heavy and miserable.

"Oh Fynn," Sunnie said, giving me a sympathetic look. "That won't happen. Hamish... he doesn't seem like the type at all," she said.

"But suppose he is??"

"Suppose he isn't?? Come on, Fynn, have a little faith, huh? If he talked to you once, the chances are he will at some point talk to you again. You guys have two classes together," Sunnie pointed out.

My heart panicked. "Well... ok, ok so maybe he'll talk to me again," I allowed. "But I barely made it through the brief encounter in gym; I don't know if I could fudge my way through another conversation!"

"What do you mean 'fudge' through?" Sunnie demanded.

I felt exhausted. "Like, I don't want to freak him out or say something wrong or really gay and scare him away... I don't want to find out if he's not bi or gay or straight or fucking whatever! But if we talk again... I don't know if I can keep myself to myself. Either I'm gonna slip up and expose my gayness or, or someone is going to warn him that I'm gay-"

"Jesus, why are you talking about yourself like you're a disease?" Sunnie huffed.

"I'm serious!" I pleaded. "Sunnie, it won't last, it can't last. We won't be friends, someone in the everyone else, including myself, is gonna fuck it up!"

"Fynn," Sunnie began sternly and folded her arms across her chest. "You are being pathetic. You aren't just some gay kid; you're funny and nice and you and Hamish could totally be friends. Give it a chance, don't write him off before you even have a second conversation."

"Ok, alright," I reluctantly accepted. "But I don't know what I'm gonna say if we talk again! No matter what, you know, I gotta play this just right."

"Ok, ok, well," Sunnie nodded seriously, thinking it over. Her eyes lightened and she snapped her fingers. "Simple. Just keep the conversation about him. Ask him... ask him how he's liking the US and where's he from in Scotland and what his hometown is like..." she said and then frowned as she trailed off. "... oh, er, I guess that's not very original-"

"It's perfect! Perfect. I don't want to be original, I want to be like everyone else," I said desperately.

Sunnie grinned triumphantly, looking beautiful. She clapped her hands together. "Yah, game plan!" she said and pumped her fists over her head.

"Yah," I cheered weakly.

Sunnie giggled and smacked my arm again. She's violent in her anger and happiness. "Hey!" she realized and pointed at me. "Do you think you could introduce me to Hamish?"

"Sunnie-" I started to protest (since, as far-fetched as it was, I was kind of bone-dogging him), but the door of the wardrobe closet opened.

"Oh! Hamish and Sunnie. What are you doing?" Ms. Kosar asked curiously. She is a funny, squat little middle-aged woman with thin flyaway hair and large, out of date glasses. She is the perfect sort of lady to be a drama teacher: she has this never-ending faith that one day her students will take her and acting seriously. But mostly, while everyone loves her, they just walk all over her and treat drama class like its a joke.

And while the class is a joke, I take acting pretty seriously. Ergo, I'm one of Ms. Kosar's favourites. She likes Sunnie too (because she more or less likes everyone), but finds Sunnie's babbling and social ADD incredibly frustrating.

"Private convo, Ms. Kosar!" Sunnie exclaimed to the ceiling.

"We were talking about Hamish, the new kid," I said to Ms Kosar.

"Oh? What about him? He's the Scottish boy, isn't he? Oi, it's a balmy day, laddie, whyn't we hit up the pub for a pint?" Ms. Kosar chortled a pretty good Scottish accent.

"That's the guy. He talked to me in P.E.," I said.

The monumental aspect of Hamish talking to me was lost on Ms. Kosar's adult mind. She blinked and puckered her thin, purple lips and then let it go.

"Well, that's nice. Now, please, get out of the closet," Ms. Kosar jerked her thumb over her shoulder.

"Already did," I grinned and snapped my fingers at her as I walked out of the wardrobe closet, Sunnie gripping the back of my sweater and trailing after me.

Ms. Kosar laughed jovially at my joke. Another great thing about Ms. Kosar: she finds everything funny and laughs at any joke a kid makes when they're trying to be funny on stage.

But with me, of course, she is actually laughing because I am actually hilarious.

Sunnie and I walked out of the drama room, her arm looped casually through mine.

"So, will you introduce me to Hamish?" she insisted.

"If he and I get passed the point where we officially know each other's names... than maybe," I hedged.

Sunnie groaned and pinched my bicep. But I ignored her and her pinching. The prospect of Hamish talking to me again both excited me and made me a little sick to my stomach. I guess it was just nerves and attraction... a lot of nerves... a lot of attraction.

You know, I hope he talks to me again just so all this anxiety (the good and bad) doesn't go to waste.