By the time Franc got over the shock of his history class dream, he had been shuffled through the halls to four different classes and sat through each one in a daze. He finally came back to his senses and looked around to find himself sitting at the end of his last class of the day. In fact, the bell rang almost the moment he woke up.
He waited outside the front door for Tom, looking forward to taking the walk home without Trystan for a change. Things were still looking up despite the dream . . . and the fact that other than in that dream, he had not seen his beloved all day. The pop quizzes had been easy; Trystan hadn't been at school; none of the homework assignments he had forgotten to do were actually due; they worked on his favorite song in band; Trystan hadn't been at school; he was given no new homework from any of his teachers; and Trystan hadn't been at school.
You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone . . . even if you secretly hate that thing's guts.
Franc could almost feel his face light up as Tom walked out the front door without his constant companion. It didn't even bother him that Liza, Tom's girlfriend, was with him. What did bother him and caused every last bit of light to leave his demeanor was the person walking right behind them.
Jermaine. Ugh.
He had forgotten that his brother didn't have baseball practice this afternoon . . . or at least that that was the story he told their parents.
Franc relaxed a bit as Jermaine ran past all of them and hopped into a car that Franc didn't recognized. He didn't care about the fact that he had no idea who Jermaine was leaving with. Really, he was just glad that he didn't have to walk all the way home with his humming, his obnoxiously loud phone, his laughs that were clearly intended to get you to ask him what was so funny when there was actually nothing funny, or those three little words that Jermaine insisted on prefacing every other statement with: "Oh, don't worry."
"Hey there, lover boy," said Liza playfully. "I noticed your darling wasn't here today. Did you miss," she paused for dramatic effect, tapping her chin as though thinking very hard, "what is her name?"
Franc smiled. "Haha," he said dryly, "very funny." Liza smiled in response, hugged him, and led the way away from the surprisingly happy prison they called a school.
It really didn't bother him when Liza teased him. Maybe it was the fact that when she said it, she genuinely sounded like she was kidding. Maybe it was the fact that she had been very encouraging to him, trying to get him to actually talk to his beloved. Maybe it was the fact that she always smelled like strawberries and wore short shorts.
He looked up at Liza and Tom walking away from him arm in arm.
It was definitely the shorts.
When Franc caught up with them, he was pleased to find that the topic of conversation had moved pleasantly away from his mystery girl. He was slightly less pleased to find where the conversation had turned.
"So Franc," said Tom, "who was that picking up Jermaine after school? I didn't recognized the car." Liza leaned her head on his shoulder in agreement.
"I dunno," replied Franc flatly. "I've never seen it before."
Liza picked up her head and feigned offense. "And you aren't desperately chasing after the mystery vehicle, trying to find out who's in the driver's seat? I am shocked and appalled. I have never once known you to have a mystery on your hands and not solve it." Her face was upset. Her voice was cheery and facetious. "Whether that mystery be the answer to a math problem, who shot the sheriff and not the deputy, or the name of a beautiful girl that you've been staring at for four years."
Franc was about to reply, but was cut off by a wink from Liza accompanied by a hearty laugh from Tom. They really fit together very well.
Liza was one of those girls that you didn't notice right away. She wasn't awe-inspiringly stunning in the way his mystery love was, but she definitely grew on you. She had hung out with Franc, Tom, and Trystan a lot since she moved to their school in junior year, and basically all three of them had had a crush on her at one time or another. Eventually, when all three had finally admitted it to each other, they had had a week long rock paper scissors tournament to determine who would get to ask her out. In all honesty, Franc was more than a little relieved when Tom won. He didn't have the guts to ask her out, and Trystan didn't deserve her. She and Tom fit.
But still, as he looked at the two of them together he couldn't help thinking back through the opportunities he had missed to ask her out: homecoming, junior prom, that time that the two of them were sitting on his bed alone working on anatomy homework the day after the rock paper scissors tournament ended.
Franc sighed and chuckled to himself. Why oh why did he choose paper?
When they reached his block and he looked to his porch, all paper related regrets melted away along with what felt like every last bit of support in his knees . . . because SHE was sitting there.
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