QUACK

The Starting Storm

“I knew I was different, but not less.”   -Temple Grandin

THIS CHAPTER IS FROM SASHA'S POINT OF VIEW

Curious, isn’t it, how the circumstances of the day you entered my life and the day you left it mirrored each other perfectly? Even the day I had figured you were going to stay in my life was like those two other days: grey, stormy, dark, started in a way that the ending would be totally unexpected.

Because that’s exactly what you are: Ethan, the unexpected.

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The storm comes rolling off Gravesend Bay, dumping buckets and buckets of rain over Brooklyn. I take one look out the classroom window and forget any notion about walking home. I’ll be drenched before I can even get my umbrella open. I regret having stayed for the AP chemistry class: I am going home without having understood a single thing.

Beside me, my boyfriend, James Tinsley, is sleeping. He has a baseball cap over the top half of his face, covering his closed eyes. I reach over, pencil in hand, and I knock the cap off with the eraser end of my pencil.

It jumps off his head like a frightened cat, landing on his desk with a soft thud. He is startled awake, and frankly, so is half of the AP Chemistry class.

“What?” he asks defensively. “I was just resting my eyes.”

“Yeah, right,” I laugh softly, poking his side with my pencil. He reaches over and tries to tickle me too, and I suppress my laugh without much success. “Jem! Stop it!”

Our teacher, Mr. Through, looks away from the chalkboard and notices for the first time that over half his class is asleep. His eyes roam over the classroom and out the window.

“Alright, class dismissed,” he says. “Assignment’s on the board, and that’s due next week. You guys stay safe on the way home, you hear?”

All of a sudden, all the sleeping people are awake, stirred by the sounds of books being put away and chairs scraping against the linoleum.   

Jem and I pack up our stuff and sit quietly across each other, do so until there is nobody else in the classroom. Then he smiles at me and grabs my hand.

"Hi,” he says quietly.

I laugh. “Hello to you, too,” I say, and I lean over and kiss him. I take his cap and place it backwards on his head, and tufts of his straw-colored hair pop out. “Were you dreaming while you were resting your eyes?” I ask playfully, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Ha-ha,” Jem says, pulling me closer. “As a matter of fact, I was,” he says, tracing my jaw with his lips and making me squirm.

“Really,” I say breathlessly, because that’s what Jem does when he touches me: he takes my breath away. “Was it about me?”

He rests his head against my shoulder and I feel him smile against my collarbone. “Nope. I was dreaming about Mr. Through and chemical bonds.”

I swat at his chest. “Very funny, Jem.”

He looks up and laughs. “No, seriously. I mean, his voice is like a freaking lullaby, Sash. I don’t get how you can stand these AP Chem classes.”

This is probably the third meeting of the month, but it is the first one Jem has attended. It is likely also going to be his last, but I am more than happy he’s here with me now. He’s a smart kid, but he prefers sports to this. After today, I can’t really blame him: it was boring.