3| part two

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After reading the poem time and time again before getting to class, focusing on what Mr

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After reading the poem time and time again before getting to class, focusing on what Mr. Smith has to say is a real pain.

He's scribbling circles around circles on the blackboard. His words come to me as bits only: atoms, electrons, things binding together... I suppose atoms and electrons? Ions is a cool word though.

Mr. Smith looks at me questioningly. We make eye contact. "You're following, Jason?" he asks.

I nod. His eyes flutter and a sigh follows. He knows I'm lying. "Anyway," he continues: neutrons, Niels, Bohr, radius... the shower of obscure words resumes. 

His tone is more impatient now. Poor Mr. Smith takes everything personally. It's not that I don't care. My mind just can't help what it prioritizes.

A few days ago even two verses poetry would send me to sleep. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy listening to rhymes and having words I relate to be spoken in a creative, kind of puzzled way. But I wouldn't have returned to that gym if Cindy had not signed me up for the club.

It's awfully amazing how I never think about the important things. If I want to get closer to Jord—so he begins to see me more than just a gay kid he's sometimes nice to—I need to get into the things he is into. That couldn't be basketball. I'm 5 foot and 4 inches short. Thanks to Cindy, poetry became the alternative.

The poetry club is something we have in common now. Something to talk about between two kisses. I still can't write, but I've developed a kind of love for it. I want to be Jord's poetry. So that he thinks about me every time he writes.

The bell rings, pulling me out of my thoughts. Mr. Smith isn't even able to finish his sentence. Resting one hand on the board, the other one placed on his waist, he looks so done. I almost feel bad for him. None of my classmates wait for him to recover from his trance-looking halt though. They leave the class without looking his way twice.

We lock eyes again. He purses his lips, looking defeated. I shove my stuff inside my backpack as quickly as I can and leave the classroom. That was uncomfortable.

I go the cafeteria during break. I'm surprised not to find Mara there, so I go to the table were we usually sit. Way in the back, with a view to the grand park beside the school, filled with joggers in sunny days like today. Sitting here alone, I'm getting more and more impatient at each passing second. I need to tell her about Jord's poem to me.

Speaking of the devil...From where I sit, I spot Jord entering the cafeteria, grabbing  a bottle of orange juice. Suddenly all the impatience for Mara not being here is gone. My heart is racing like it is going to explode inside my chest and my eyes are pair of binoculars taking in Jord's relaxed walk into the cafeteria.

Mara comes into view. She doesn't turn to our spot. She's walking in...Jord's direction? Oh. She pokes his shoulder and he turns to her with a smile, greeting her with a peck on her cheek.

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