pizzaface | ✓

12.

"NOEL!"

"Oh, um, hey Myron."

Noel was walking out of the school gates on his way home, before he spotted Myron by his car who had shouted for Noel.

"I was going to get chipotle, do you want to come?"

"What about Cheryl?"

"Cheer practice."

Noel stood rooted to the spot, pondering over the preposition. He hadn't had chipotle in a long time, but he just really wanted to go home and hide under his covers at the same time.

"I'll pay." Myron added helpfully, his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he opened the car door.

Noel grunted but sat in Myron's car anyway, he unconsciously pulled at his hoodie, his eyes focusing on the car freshener swinging softly. Myron started the car, his fingers fumbling for the radio, as he shot a quick smile at Noel before turning his eyes onto the road.

The car was silent for the most part, until they got to chipotle and sat by the window, where a large green plant was tickling Noel's back and Myron was digging into his wrap quietly.

"Why did you ask me to get chipotle with you?" Noel hadn't expected his voice to come out so quiet, but his question seemed more heavier than what was originally implied.

"I didn't want to go by myself and I was really feeling like chipotle, then I saw you walking outside the school and I thought 'hmm does Noel want chipotle?' so then I asked you to get chipotle with me and now we're eating chipotle."

"No, but like, why?"

"I want to be friends with you Noel, you're a cool guy." Myron shot his contagious smile at Noel once again, but there was so much more he wanted to say but he didn't know how to go about it. Noel seemed skittish and on edge all the time, his hands were also fumbling with something and his gaze was usually fixed firmly to the floor. Myron wanted Noel to relax.

"Um, are you okay? Like, um, I was there that day, and I heard about it, and I didn't even ask if you were okay...'' Myron started unsurely.

"I'm fine." Noel's reply was firm and straight, but Myron could see how his eyes were glossed over a little and his lips trembled.

"No you're not."

"I am."

"You're not, and that's okay."

"No it's not okay! I don't want to not be okay anymore, I'm sick of it!" Noel hadn't expected himself to shout, but there were too many people in there to hear what he was shouting about, yet Myron sat watching Noel carefully.

"So, what are you going to do about it?"

Noel shrugged, shrinking himself into his hoodie, his fingers pulling at the drawstrings so they were uneven. He hadn't even touched his chipotle.

Suddenly Myron stood up, he cleared his throat dramatically before bellowing a pop song, loudly. 'Havana, ooo, na na, half of my heart is in Havana, ooo na na..." His voice was mangled and warped and out of tune, everybody in the restaurant had turned to stare at Myron in amusement, some even snickering to their friends.

Noel watched Myron in amusement and horror, his cheeks turning a bright red as he watched Myron make a complete fool of himself. "What are you doing! Sit down!" Myron chuckled to himself before sitting down, a bright smile on his face, as he simultaneously downed a bottle of Fanta.

People in the restaurant turned to look at Myron quickly but then resumed their conversations. "Did you see that?"

"Yeah, I did see. You made a complete fool out of yourself."

"Yeah, but I don't care. People might call me weird and strange, but I don't know them and I don't care about them, so their opinions don't matter to me, and I can't let them know that it matters to me or they're going to manipulate that to get a reaction out of me."

Noel watched Myron talk passionately, his dark brown eyes were lit up with a fierceness that Noel had never witnessed before.

"But I don't know how." Noel stated simply.

"Take off your hood."

Noel cringed at those words, he had avoided going to the mirror, or looking at shop windows, or his reflection through clear glass since he was humiliated in class, he had no idea how bad his face was. He wasn't going to expose himself in this restaurant.

Acting on impulse, he stood up and left the restaurant, not looking back to see Myron on his heels, who grabbed at Noel's arm and pulled him back.

"I'm sorry." He breathed. "But you'll have to at some point, or you'll never get better. Don't you want too?"

Noel said nothing, he stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets, his feet placed firmly on the pavement. There were a lot of shops on this street, a florist that had a myriad of colourful flowers displayed in the front window, a quaint music store with quirky guitars and if you walked to the end and turned right, there was a skate park which held competitions once every three months.

It was hot, too hot for Noel to be wearing this hoodie, the sun was glaringly bright and had illuminated Myron's tan skin, it sent a golden glow across his body, making him looked otherworldly and ethereal. As if he was Noel's own guardian angel.

"Yeah, I-I w-want to get better. I do. I will."

Myron then wrapped his arms around Noel, his face resting on the crook of Noel's shoulder. Noel kept his arms by his side for a minute, the hug was strange and foreign, but really nice. It felt as if his insides were being scorched from the inside out, but instead of fire it was pure gold. Noel tentatively returned the hug, his arms wrapping around Myron's back, the ache in his chest releasing.

He felt comfortable.