Why? // Nischa

Chapter 7

The invitation wasn't a formal one—if if even counted as one—said "You're Invited to Hell."

Penny has been updated and given a new title. She's no longer known as "Therapist Lesbian", she's been promoted to "Shipping me with Mischa Lesbian."

"Come on, you guys are obviously the cutest couple here. Have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally said you have pretty eyes." She explained one day while we were standing outside the choir room. "He's sooo, totally in love with you!"

"He isn't even gay, dumbass!" I argued. "He talks to this girl online all the time, so there's no way he's any form of gay."

"He could be bi?"

"There's no way."

"He's totally bi."

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever. It's not like I care, anyway."

I kind of did care. Everytime Mischa mentioned that one girl it always felt like there was an itch. Not a physical itch, but more of a mental one. Everytime he mentioned 'Talia' I always seemed to feel... weird. Like there was something nagging at my brain but I couldn't put my finger on it. Hell, maybe it's the slightest twinge of jealousy.

I'm not a jealous person, but there was no reason that he gets to be so happy and in love and I'm getting called slurs.

It's not fucking fair.

"Noel, you good?"

I glanced to the side, expecting to see Penny there. But instead I saw Mischa waving a hand in front of my face.

"Oh, uh, hi," I replied awkwardly. I diverted my gaze to the floor, hoping Mischa wouldn't notice the redness spreading over my face. Fuck.

"Your face is kinda red, there," Mischa said, raising an eyebrow. I didn't know he could do that. "Are you sure you're fine? You're not sick?"

"No, I'm not. I'm perfectly fine."

"Okay."

Mischa replaced Penny's spot in standing next to me, pulling out his phone. He's texting that girl, I bet he is.

I only caught a glimpse of a sentence, something he'd typed in Ukrainian. I don't speak Ukrainian so I don't know what the fuck that says.

I started taking in more of his features. Ones I hadn't noticed before. Like the way he has a pair of knockoff AirPods that are probably from Amazon. The way the edges of his phone case are scuffed and he has too many cracks in his screen. Or the way he always has a pen in his pocket with the cap nearly chewed off. Or the way he—

"Are you gonna stop staring at me?"

Mischa was looking down at me with face that was a cross between confusion and annoyance. Goddamn it, I did it again.

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

He scoffed, returning his eyes to his phone where he typed another cryptic message in Ukrainian.

____ ___ __ _

"The competition is in 2 weeks!" Ocean yelled, her finger in the air as emphasis for her point. "And still, Constance and I are the only ones participating!"

I just stared at Ocean with the most 'shut your fucking mouth' expression that I could. Mischa didn't even bother showing up. He claimed he was going to the bathroom but walked down the hall and never came back.

As if reading my mine, Ocean exclaimed, "And can someone tell Mischa all of this since he decided not to show up to class."

Penny turned to me. "Yeah, Noel, tell your
boyfriend about all the shit he missed!"

I was about to slap the shit out of her, but I couldn't avoid Ocean's stare.

"Are you guys... dating?" Ocean asked sternly. I couldn't tell if she was mad or just wanted the truth.

"No, we're not," I explained.

Penny cut in. "You haven't even seen their texts! I saw one that said 'please send me a pic of yourself so I can jerk off—"

"PENNY WHAT THE FUCK!" I screamed, raising my hand again. Nearly the entire choir ran over and grabbed my arm to pull it down.

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" Penny laughed, running across the room. "You should've seen your face!" She ran over to the door and leapt out right as Mischa finally entered. He raised an eyebrow again.

"What'd I miss?"

____ ___ __ _

The rest of choir went normal. Ocean announced the competition date, So I decided to start a countdown until the day. I quickly typed something in my notes app. I'll switch it to my calendar later.

September 1st. 14 Days Until the Competition.

As I typed, Mischa approached me, unannounced, once again.

"Whatcha writing?" He asked, peering over at the screen.

"Uh, how much longer until the competition."

"Hm."

He continued to walk alongside me as we exited the school. He turned to me.

"You into parties?"

Fuck no. Absolutely fucking not. Why the fuck would I even- "Yeah."

"Really?" He looked at me, confused. "You don't seem like the type."

"I've only been to one," I lied. "It was alright I guess."

WHY THE FUCK AM I GOING ALONG WITH THIS SHIT.

"Damn," He returned his eyes in front of himself. "You wanna go to one?"

No. No. NO. "Sure."

He smiled. "Cool! I'll send you the details, it's on Saturday."

"Okay." Goddamn it.

[ AN: sorry abt the little break in chapters i've been busy lately with school stuff :3 ]