First Encounter

He stood before me with the same grin that I had seen in his profile picture. I couldn’t place the smile though. It was warm, yes, but there was something off about it. It was affectionate and sincere, but it lacked compassion. Something was just… missing.

The wind tore through my thin dark brown hair, making me feel even more self conscious than usual. It was a cold and damp day, as it was near the end of November, and the air smelled like rain. School had let out not ten minutes earlier, and I came to the stone stairs in the three sided courtyard that separated the middle and high schools less than five minutes ago, and my nerves had been high strung through all of that time. I had spent the past five days preparing myself for this moment, and it had finally come.

Over Thanks Giving Break, I’d met this guy that goes to my high school online. I know it’s not the safest thing to meet people in person that you’ve met online, but we had over 250 mutual friends, and I was optimistic about him. I’d sent the friend request, and he accepted it not an hour later. He messaged me five minutes later saying, “Hey.” I will admit, I was a little shocked, but I responded to his initial message with one just as simple. “Hi c:.”

And so it began. We started talking five days ago, and  in the first night, we’d stayed up until 4 in the morning, and sent over 1000 messages. He’d told me he thought I was attractive, funny, nice, smart… It was almost too much. He made me feel good about myself, which doesn’t happen often. So he asked me if he could meet me in person after school one day.

He smiled up at me, as I was nearer to the top of the steps, and he was close to the bottom. He climbed the steps two at a time until he was on the same step as me, and turned to face me. His warm eyes were enlarged slightly behind his black, modern, and wide lened glasses, and they were the same brown-green color as mine. I could feel them boring into me, as if studying me as some sort of treasure, giving me chills that were not caused by the weather.

His smile widened and he pulled me in for a hug, stopping my chills in their tracks. He was warm and gentile with me, and having him pressed against me protected me from the harsh wind.

“I’ve been looking forward to doing that for the past five days,” he breathed.

“I…” I was at a loss for words. He still had me in his arms, and normally if another guy had done that to me, I would have panicked. However, there was something… different about him. I looked away and blushed. “I’ve been waiting for you to do that for the past five days,” I replied.

His grin grew larger than  it had been before. He let me go, and the cold returned to my body. “So,” he said coolly, “Wanna go for a walk?”

“Umm.. Sure?” I said doubtfully. I wasn’t quite sure what to make of him. He was different from a lot of other guys I’ve met. He seemed to have more of a glow to him, drawing people into him, like me. He had the same dark hair as me, but his was more of a chocolate color, and you could tell that it was dyed, but still looked natural.

He held his land out to lead the way, and I gladly walked by his side into the crisp November Wisconsin air. “So,” He said, “tell me a little bit about yourself.”

“Well…” I began, “There’s not much to tell. Like I said when were talking on facebook, I’m in 8^th grade at the middle school. My birthday’s August 8^th and, I’m 5 ft. 9in. I have medium length brown hair, the same brown-green eyes as you, and I’m extremely pale.

“That’s not exactly what I meant…” he started. He stopped in his tracks and turned to face me, his voice soft, and his eyes boring into me again. “I want to get to know you, the real you. Like… what kind of music do you like?”

“I like all kinds of music,” I began “except country. Too preachy for my taste. I love music you know… I play five instruments and I sing.”

“There, was that so hard?” he beamed. 

I blushed and looked down. I don’t like making a spectacle of myself for people I’ve just met. The thing is, normally I’m really extraverted and outgoing, but something compelled me to be introverted and reserved around him. In fact, I’m usually totally crazy, and love to have fun, but it’s almost as if I’ve become a different person around him.

We continued walking, and we reached the end of the courtyard, and turned left towards the half of the campus of our schools reserved for the high schoolers. “What about you? What kind of music do you like?” 

He gave me a half smile, “I like everything except country too,” he breathed, “and the fact that you sing is awesome too, but the fact that you play five instruments? I mean, Jesus, doesn’t that take a lot of time?”  

“Not really. Besides, I wouldn’t mind if it did. I find myself happiest in band class with my clarinet, or in choir than in any other class.”

“That’s awesome.” He beamed. I could feel myself blush.

“Thanks,” I said, smiling at him for the first time with sincerity.

“So what do you play?”

“Piano, clarinet, flute, organ, and saxophone.” I said proudly. “But I’m best at piano, and it’s what I love most.”

“You have a lotta talent,” he said making my alabaster-pale skin blush red with color. “And passion. I like that.”

Like? What does he mean “like?” I thought. I disregarded the thought of it. Don’t be stupid. He doesn’t “like” you. You’re not even gay. Besides who in Pewaukee is gay?...

“I’d love to hear you play sometime. I’ll bet you’re fantastic.” I could feel my cheeks turning a soft shade of scarlet with every complement he gave me. I never feel like this. I never feel this good, no one has made me feel like this before. Yeah, I’d gotten complements for my playing before, but I never felt like this when I got them.

“I’d love to play for you sometime.” I replied.

He beamed and stopped to study my face. “Are you ok?” He asked with some concern, “you look pale… really pale. Are you cold?” The truth is, I was am cold. I’m freezing, and I’m in only a thin grey hoodie. That’s why I was so reluctant to have him let go of me before, because the cold autumn air was quickly transitioning to winter air.

“I’m actually freezing, aha.” I said, and I could feel my arms go around themselves as a subconscious reaction.

“Here,” he said taking off his crisp, white, Hollister sweatshirt. “Take my sweatshirt.” He held it out for me.

“I can’t take that.” I said stammering a little. “It’s yours.” It was a stupid excuse, but it’s all I could think of. I don’t like accepting gifts. I always feel like I have to repay people sometime.

“I won’t take no for an answer.” He said firmly, but with subtle care.

Reluctantly, I took the sweatshirt from his hand, and as I took it from him, his hand brushed against mine, revealing to me just how soft his skin really was. What the hell are you doing?! Stop. You’re not gay, and you know that. But still… Everything felt… weird.

I pulled the sweatshirt on, and as I did, I regretted doing it immediately. It was still warm from his body heat, and smelled like him. Yes, now I’m warm, but now I feel so awkward. When I feel awkward, I feel so weak, and I hate that feeling.

“Better?” he asked softly.

“Yes.” I said in a small voice. He gave me a weary smile that made me feel even warmer.

“Awesome. Hey, can we quick go into the high school so I can pick some stuff up from my locker?”

I didn’t know what to say. Half of me told me to run, and the other half told me “what’s the worst that could happen?”

“Sure,” I said with an airy smile trying successfully to hide my un-comfort.

We turned and headed into the high school, walking in through the front doors around 30 seconds later. He led the way through the halls that I would be walking next fall. I didn’t really know my way through the high school, because the only classes for the middle school that are held there that I take are French and Band. He led me down a hallway directly forward from the front doors for about 40 feet, and we took and immediate right, and up a staircase to a second floor to the sophomore hallway. When we reached the top, we went right down the hall past the rows of lockers. The halls were empty for the most part aside from the occasional custodian, teacher, or straggling student. Finally, we had reached his locker, the fifth row down, and he stopped and turned to retrieve his things.

He did the combination to the lock, and revealed a locker that was just as messy as mine, if not messier than mine. “Pardon the mess,” he mused.

“Aha, it’s fine.” I smiled.

He reached in and grabbed a knapsack that had the faint outlines of books, papers, and pens visible through it.

“Do you like skittles?” He asked.

“Umm.. yea.” I said, not sure what to make of the question.

He reached again into the locker, only this time to the top shelf. He pulled down a family sized bag of skittles, and handed it to me with a smile, then turned back to look for some books and papers. I took a small handful of skittles, and popped some of them into my mouth, the sweet taste of fruit tingling my tongue.

“Thanks,” I said with a smile trying to hand back the bag.

“You can keep it, it’s yours,” he said without looking at me. This time, I was a lot more generous with my handful.

“Well, do you want some?”

He turned to me and gave me the same soft smile I’d been looking at for the past 20 minutes. “Sure.” He thrust his hand into the bag, and took a small amount of skittles and popped them in his mouth in the same  manner that I had done before. “They’re my favorite you know. What’s yours?”

“My what?” I asked.

“Haha, what’s your favorite candy?” he asked finishing up packing his things in his bag, grabbing his school laptop, and closing the door on the mess in his locker.

“I donno.” I said. “I love chocolate, and skittles. I guess just anything that has those in it.”

“Seems legit.” He said. “Sooooo…” He began.

“Sooooo…” I responded.

“Wanna play the question game?” he asked brightly.

“The what?”

“Oh come on?!” he said turning to me, stopping in his tracks. “Do you seriously not know what the question game is?”

I shook my head.

“Well,” he said quizzically, “I suppose we’ll just have to educate you.” I snickered at this. He used the royal “we” for effect, and it really did the trick.

“Alright,” I said, storing the skittles away in my bag, “educate me.”

He grinned at me. “Well, it’s simple enough. We go back and forth asking each other questions. The only rule is that you can only ask one question.”

“Simple enough,” I said. “You start.”

We started walking again, heading down the stairs, and turning left this time, heading for the front doors. “Alright, what’s your favorite color and why?”

“Red,” I said immediately, “because it’s the color of passion.”

He raised his eyebrows at my answer, and I regretted saying it the moment I did. I’m a really poetic and sappy person, and a lot of people don’t like that for some reason. “That’s so cool. I never thought of it like that.”

I felt the tension loosen in my face. “What about you?” I asked. By this point we had reached the doors. I really hated going back out into the cold, but my mom was  going to pick me up in front of the middle school.

“Well, I don’t exactly have an answer as deep as ‘the color of passion’ but I like lime green, because it’s exciting and fun.”

“Nice,” I said.

“Now you ask,” he said eagerly.

“Favorite movie?”

“Oh god there are way too many. I like a lot of stuff. You?”

“Same here.” We were walking back towards the stone stairs where we had arranged to meet. I could feel myself becoming slightly more comfortable around him as I spent more time with him.

“Okay, what’s your favorite subject?” he asked.

“That’s not fair.” I said.”I told you that earlier that they were Band and Choir.”

“Oh yeaaa.” He replied. “Well then, what’s your least favorite subject?”

“Math,” I responded the moment he asked. “I hate it with a passion.”

“LOL, are you not good at it?”

“No, I’m actually good at it. It’s that I find it to boring and I don’t apply myself. Usually, I waste the hour writing stuff and listening to music.”

“Aha, I hate it too.” He said with a wink.

A wink? I thought, What’s this guys deal? I mean, I know he told me he thought I was attractive when I had talked to him before on facebook, but that didn’t mean anything. I said it back, because it was true. He had soft features, nice eyes, and his hair was perfect. I can’t deny facts, but still…

“So you write? What do you write?”

“You’re breaking the rules again.” I said with a melody to my voice. “Now I have ask you.”

He laughed. It was a sweet, and sincere laugh that made me quiver. “Alright. Ask away.”

By this time, we had reached the steps again, and we walked halfway up them, and sat down next to each other. I pulled out the bag of skittles he had given me, and we began to snack on them together. He was close to me; close enough that our thighs brushed up against each other if either of us moved. Even though we were both fully clothed, I could feel the heat from his skin through my jeans. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was weird.

I popped a skittle in my mouth. “What’s your best class?”

“Graphic Arts,” he said, “without a doubt.”

“What’s that?” I asked, even though the closeness of the situation made me want leave and not look back, something kept me there playing the question game with him.

“It’s this class where you make designs on computers and stuff.”

“Ohh,” I said, “Kinda like Computer Pub. I took that last year, but I sucked.”

“I’ve never heard of that class,” he said with a puzzled look on his face.

“Didn’t you take it in middle school?” I asked.

“I didn’t go to middle school here,” he said, “I went to Butler, and then to North last year, and transferred here this year.”

“Ohh… well, do you like it here?”

“It’s meh.”

“Yeaa, well, Pewaukee is kinda meh,” I smirked.

He studied me again in silence. I could feel his eyes surveying me, like a work of art, or a piece of land. I felt uncomfortable, and I could tell he could see it written on my face. I just continued eat the skittles slowly, looking forward, trying not to make eye contact.

Finally, the silence had become too much for me, and I opened my mouth to say something, but he cut me off. “Why don’t we keep playing the question game until your mom gets her,” he offered.

Relieved that I could meet his gaze again, I agreed.

“Favorite band?” he asked.

“Coldplay, you?”

“One Direction.”

I’d never met guy “Directioner” before.

“Least favorite?” I asked.

His face contorted into a look of disgust, “Slipknot,” he said with repulsion.

“Ew, same”

“Hmmmm,” he muttered, “most awkward moment?” He asked.

“Oh, you mean besides this?” I said with a smile.

We both laughed and continued playing the so called “question game” for the next 30 minutes waiting for my mom to get here, and with each question, I could feel myself loosening up in his company. As we played on, we learned a lot about each other. Though he may not seem like it in the way he’s described above, he’s a very soft-spoken person, and is usually very shy when he meets people for the first time, like I am right now. I’m uncomfortable around him, it’s just that being with him felt off. It’s not that I didn’t like him; I did, a lot…

Finally, were left with only five more minutes. “So…” he said.

“So…” I replied.

“I really like you,” he said.

“I like you too,” I smiled at him.

“Is there… is there any way I could see you again tomorrow?” he asked running a hand through his thick brown hair, and blushing for the first time today instead of me.

I thought about this for a moment. I wanted to, but I was still scared for some reason. Not of him, but what of all of this meant. The hug, the sweatshirt, the skittles… Was this all somehow a joke? I wondered.

I considered all of my options. I could run for it, but I doubted that would solve the problem, and something gave me the feeling he wasn’t afraid to run after me, and he would eventually catch me. Another option was the just say no, and walk away from him and the whole awkward situation for good. Or, I could say yes. I mean, he hadn’t actually done anything to me, and even though the situation was uncomfortable at first and I hate to admit it, I had fun. After much consideration, I opened my mouth, and replied, “Yes,” with a weak smile.

His smile was radiant with the thought of seeing me again. He pulled me in for another hug as I saw my mom pulling up from around the corner.

“I’ll message you tonight,” I said with anticipation in my voice.

“Alright,” he said letting me go from his arms.

I pulled off his sweatshirt, and tried handing it to him, but he said, “Nahh, you keep it. You need it more than I do,” with a wink.

I smiled wearily, and climbed into the passenger seat of my mom’s SUV. I had made it through my first experience with him. It was awkward at first, but I had made it. But there was still something about his smile… That thing I couldn’t place… Something had been missing…