Adrian Gonzalez knows the painful truth about liking someone you have no chance with-they never like you back and you're left heartbroken. Ever wonder why it's called a 'crush?'
But when the hopeless crush he has is on Parker Thompson-nonbinary scho...
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I hadn’t been wrong. After the preliminary rounds of the swim meet, I found myself chasing after the competitors and the West Dale students in the bleachers. The few who spoke to me did so reluctantly, either out of boredom or pity, when they noticed my crutches.
Micky stayed by my side for approximately two seconds at a time—the rest of the time, he abandoned me with the excuse of going closer to the pool for photos. Never did I see him take the lens cap off the camera he had with him.
While I was keeping score of the rounds, my phone’s screen came alive with a new message.
Mystery: Hey, where are you?
For a long time, I could only blink at the screen. How come it had escaped my mind that I had told him to wait for me would forever be surprising. Not only did I feel terrible for forgetting about my plans with Adrián, I was reeling with disappointment that I’d given it up for this—watching people swim (and one boy almost drown) while Micky left everything to me.
Funny enough, I’d been mad at Micky for delaying me, while Adrián had to wait all this while.
Me: omg im so sorry!! i got occupied with the paper. are you still at the school???
Mystery: Yeah. You’re in the newsroom?
Me: im at west dale. I’m so sorry for wasting your time. will you still make curfew :/
Mystery: Yes, don’t worry about that. Should I come get you?
I bit down on my lip, thumbs hovering over the screen. How was I supposed to feel good about this when I was having the worst time, and Adrián was being so thoughtful? I considered saying yes, but I didn’t want him to go through the trouble. Besides, it was clear I couldn’t trust Micky to do this alone.
Me: no. im not sure how long I have to stay for. But i have Micky with me, he’ll get me home
Mystery: Okay. Lemme know when you get back❤
Me: will do!!❤❤
As I slipped my phone into my pocket, my co-worker appeared out of nowhere. He had a half-eaten hotdog in his hand, and he wiggled his eyebrows at me when I gave him a look.
“How many laps are there left?” I asked.
“Beats me.” Micky slumped forwards, jaw moving slowly as it worked at whatever was in his mouth. He took another bite and pointed the remaining inch of bread and sausage in my direction. “Want some?” he offered. He must have misplaced my amazement as interest.
Shaking my head, I looked back at the pool. This round was over, and the next set of swimmers were the ones in our league. Turning to prompt Micky that his time to be useful had arrived, I was met with an empty seat. Again.
I could only hope it was to do his job.
Seven swimmers lined up at the edge of the pool, a couple waving at people they knew in the bleachers. Right as they were asked to get into position, another boy arrived, sending the audience to a standstill. Suddenly, all eyes were pinned at the pool, steeled and ready to witness whatever was going to happen.
