Angels Wear Blue Jumpsuits

Part 1

Love has always fascinated me. And it fascinates me more every time I write about it. Because as I unfold the tale of love between my characters, I understand it a little better. I've felt the emotion many times, in many ways.

I love the sunlight. I love the crisp Autumn air. I love kittens. I love sliding into the perfect car park before that idiot who was riding my ass can. I love spying a new leaf on my plant. I love music. I love you.

But I didn't love you immediately.

Actually, you intimidated me.

And although our love story had a slow beginning, I still remember the day we met like it was yesterday. But it wasn't yesterday. It was–

Approximately five years ago

I never do this.

Never.

High school is for begrudgingly taking my classes, just barely passing to keep my parents happy and going home as soon as I hear the sweet chime of the three o'clock bell.

So why the fuck am I signing up for an after-school club?

Because it's a gaming club.

Fucking finally.

Something actually worthy of my interest.

I'm lowkey excited, but my expectations are much the same. I just know I'll be the only girl there. And judging by the mass of males I see filtering through the designated club room, my assumption is correct. I shrug. Maybe this means I'll be treated extra nicely. Or the opposite entirely.

I hurry to the door, squeezing in before it closes and hang at the back of the crowd while the chatter dies away. Circling from behind a long row of PCs, you step forward before us. I recognize you but I can't recall your name. It's short. Three letters long or something. You're a year above me- a senior, and while your name escapes me, those shoulders don't. Jesus, what are you? An easy six feet tall and sixty centimetres across? Whenever my friends and I see you pass in the hall, we joke that the school janitor needs to keep you out of the gym. Your school blazer is heavy with your achievements as I spy the shining badges that make the coat slouch. First in skiing, rugby, and athletics– three years running. Class President. I would have been impressed if I wasn't disgustingly intimidated. Who needs all that? Spare some for the rest of us.

"Hey guys!" you say with an excited clap of your hands. "Oh," you continue as you spy me. "And girls."

Everyone turns to look at me. Everyone. Thanks, dickhead.

"For those who don't know, I'm Jay!"

Jay. Short, like I guessed. I like the sound of it as I whisper it to myself and commit it to memory.

"Honestly, I didn't expect this much interest!" you laugh nervously and what were you expecting? It's a gaming club, dude, of course people were gonna be interested. "I know there won't be enough spots for everyone here, so we'll need to sort out a roster."

You go through more formalities and I feel myself shrink away from your words but focus more on the way you speak them. You seem to have a talent for public speaking. You express yourself very clearly and make eye contact with people while keeping an almost professional posture to your body. Hell, you look more engaged than many of the teachers do. Your Class President badge now makes a ton of sense.

We all line up to note down our names and the days that best suit us to attend the club. I put down all days in the hope that this means I'll be given priority. Doing some math, I count thirty PCs and about forty-five students. That means-