14. lucas garcia might have a crush

Lucas Garcia is staring at someone.

Class seems to almost be blurring in the background, and our Social Studies teacher paces at the front, steps almost frigid but stance relaxed. She's going over a pivotal point in the fifteenth century, eyes firm and mouth moving so fast I can barely catch onto her words.

He sits a couple of rows in front of me, and I'm all too aware of the fact now more than ever. His hair is in their usual wavy curls, brown catching the sunlight, eyes bright. The class is full, some people twirling their pens, a girl off to the side whose eyes are upwards, fingers rapidly moving underneath her table, no doubt texting somebody.

I try to follow Lucas' gaze, and it lands on the front row. There are two girls, Samantha and Hailey, both mentally communicating. But it's more than clear that Samantha and Hailey can't be the people that Lucas is staring at.

After all, his eyes are slightly glazed, corner of his lips twitched upwards. He's distracted, fingers mindlessly twirling his pen.

It can't be the girls. Not when he looks like that. I nearly freeze when my gaze catches onto the boy in the middle seat of the two girls, exactly where Lucas' eyes have landed.

The object of his attention has messy waves of hair, a smile that's wide and radiates absolute confidence. He's at the front, and Lucas watches him, eyebrows knitted together.

He's a redhead. David. One of Joe's friends. An easily smug grin, a tall stance, jokingly annoying comments. David Harris.

I glance between the two of them. My eyes dart between both of them for what feels like hours. Back and forth, back and forth.

But before I can attempt to process the slow realization once more, the bell rings, everyone rising to their feet and shuffling all of their shit into their backpacks, lazily catching onto our teacher's desperate reminders of our homework for the day.

Once I'm out in the hall, I pause as Lucas falls into step with me.

"Hey," He says, voice soft, eyes dropping to my neck. The corner of his lips tug upwards in that sweet smile of his. "You're wearing the keychain." He meets my eyes. "You got my note."

Something skips in my chest, and all I can do is not, with some stupid ass grin on my lips.

"I'm happy," He says, his eyes finding the chain again. "Fits you."

"So," I drag out as the two of us turn a corner. "You have a little crush?"

"I do not," Lucas says simply, pace quickening as I try to fall into speed with his quicker pace.

"I saw you staring at Harris in class today," My voice is light as I glance over at him. So light. In fact, feathery light and nearly melodic. Lucas' head whips in my direction, turning from side to side before settling back on me.

His voice drops, eyes flicking about the hallway. "I'm not talking about this, let's change the subject."

With a shrug of acquiescence, I follow behind Lucas as we head into the outside area, out of the school. But my mind still whirs with the fact that Lucas has neither confirmed or denied the fact that he may or may not be into David Harris.

The two of us make our way to one of the outdoor tables. This one's a bright blue, sunlight illuminating the entire space, the blue seeming a million times brighter. I slide into once seat, and Lucas slides into the one across from me.

"So..." I drag once more, trying to find Lucas' eyes as he lets out an endearing little huff, dropping his backpack onto the bench next to him.

"Jason, if you even start about David, I will smack you." He says, lips pursed, as though Lucas Garcia even has the capability to lay a finger on someone.

My hands fly into the air in defense. Then I let out a laugh. "Careful." Pause, "your knuckles might get bruised."

Lucas lips part in something resembling offense. Then his mouth closes as he raises both eyebrows, asking innocently, "wanna test that theory out?"

"Uh," I say, blinking slowly. "No sir."

Lucas shoots me a heart-stopping smile, the type that's too down-to-earth to be anyone but Lucas Garcia, the type with that gentle lip tug that draws all attention to him. The sun's touching his skin, but he rivals it. The sun.

Before I can stutter out something completely and utterly moronic, Ellie Evans swoops in, sliding into the seat adjacent from me.

"Hey," She says, taking a swig out of her cappuccino before mindlessly stirring the drink with her straw and meeting our eyes. "You guys want to head over to the diner?" She asks, hair falling to her shoulders, lips pursing.

She glances between the two of us, and Lucas nods with an easy "of course". Ellie turns to me, and I try to fight the half smile from appearing on my lips at her expectant glance. 

"Um, yeah." I say, and Ellie gives me a nod in return. "Hey," I start, leaning forward in my seat as Ellie continues to stir her drink. "Could I invite my friends?"

"Sure," Ellie says, half-smile appearing on her lips. "Bring them over."

"Be warned," I say, raising both hands above the table. "They're crazy as fuck."

"Please," Ellie laughs, glancing over at Lucas who shoots me a grin. "Have you met the GSA? By now, you've gotta know that most of those bitches are crackheads." I notice the faint freckles on her cheeks as she laughs again.

A grin appears on my lips as I ready myself to reply when two figures approach our table. And not just two figures, but David Harris and Joe Miller.

The two are making their way out onto into the open, both looking irritatingly smug, pace and stance set in that usual saunter that seems insanely prominent in all the non-queer males at the school.

They come to a halt, Joe glancing over at me, rubbing his bruising chin before letting out a devil-may-care yawn and glancing away. To his side, David runs a hand through auburn waves, glancing over at our table.

Noticing our eyes on him, he raises an eyebrow, eyes landing on Lucas. A slight smirk rises to his lips, just barely. I don't like how it looks. Ellie's eyes remain insanely calm, but we both exchange brief glances before our eyes return to the screen.

"Hey," He says. His voice sounds like fucking butter. Fuck you, Harris, I think, for no good reason whatsoever. He's looking at Lucas.

"H-hey." And he stutters. Lucas fucking Garcia stutters. The GSA president, the guy with the easiest sense of diplomacy, the goddamn debate winner. Just seeing him stutter makes my world shake. And I don't fucking like it.

There's an easy nod from David. Unsurprising, given that Harris thinks that he's the hottest shit in the room. Finally, Joe yells something out about pranking someone they know, and David falls into step with him, the two rushing over to their group that's rowdily waving them over.

"Smooth," I say, voice dripping with heavy sarcasm once the two are gone.

In return, Lucas Garcia simply kicks me underneath the table. Hard.

And in all honesty, that tells me everything I need to know.

***

The diner is all bright. Lighting orange-tinged, chairs set aesthetically, people leaning over in chairs and tables, all diving into a multitude of conversations, snippets of which fly into the atmosphere.

The place is nice, of course. Framed artwork is positioned strategically, forks clink against plates, smiles go on for ages.

"Ugh, it smells so good in here," Riya says from next to me, letting out a semi-compromising moan. 

"Bitch, tell me about it," Daniella replies. Riya nods eagerly, and Dani gives her a little pat on the head as she takes the place in.

"We've been here over a million times," I say, eyebrows raised.

"Your point?" Riya asks, eyebrows raised, bellybutton piercing glinting from beneath her top.

From next to me, Dani links our elbows with ease, glancing about the space as she makes the most random observations. Exhibit A: "The decor here could use some work", "jason, oh my god, that painting is speaking to me", "where's the Italian food, though?" 

Meanwhile, I catch snippets of Riya and Amir's conversation— or really, Amir's dutiful listening and Riya raving to him about how her girlfriend might move here for college. 

My eyes catch onto a table towards the center. And there they are, the GSA. Somehow, it seems like any nervous that didn't exist is pummeling me with full force once I finally wrap my head around the concept that both of my worlds are colliding.

While there were brief meetings at the party, the GSA and my group haven't ever actually met. As in, met met. I let out a huff of air, making my way over to the familiar table, trying to quash down any doubts.

My friends trail after me, and Ellie glances up at us, beckoning us towards the booth. It's so fucking endearing, the way that the GSA squishes into each other to make room for the four of us. The way that they let out little laughs as they bump into each other, the eagerness painted on their faces as the rest of us slide into the booth.

It doesn't take long, however, for both groups to fuse into one solid group of laughing teenagers and dive into conversation about everything and nothing that matters.

"Okay, so," Ellie says, clasping her hands together. "Is it just me or is Joe Miller getting a little pushy?"

"It's not just you," Riya replies quickly, glancing over at Monday who nods in agreement. "He's been bored lately."

"See, that's the thing," Avery says, subconsciously tossing an arm around Peter who's seated next to her. "I think our school is like, inclusive and everything. But then you have, like, the entirety of the football team. Except James Jones, Will McClain, and Gavin Drew. The exemplars for all straight boys. Well, Gavin at least."

"Yeah, and speaking of which," Monday says, clasping their hands together. "James and Will came out. Together. It was fucking iconic."

"I'm going to be really honest," Dani says, swinging her feet back and forth. "I did not see that one coming." A smile appears on her lips. "Not the slightest bit disappointed, though."

A smug grin curves onto Avery's lips as she does little jazz hands. "The gays just keep winning."

"As we should," Riya says, Amir agreeing with an easy nod, Peter sending the two of them a grin, one that's matched by Avery.

"And Joe?" Monday asks in thought, trilling their lips as Avery looks up from stirring her drink with her signature metal straw.

"Think he'll leave us alone." Ellie says, grinning smugly. "Apparently my two weeks of self defense practice came in handy."

A snort escapes my lips as I remember the scene from what feels like forever ago. And somehow, seeing Ellie completely at ease in front of me, makes a grin appear on my lips. Lucas mirrors my grin, letting out a laugh as Ellie's smug grin remains unfaltering.

Monday raises a hand to their chest, swooning slightly as they meet Ellie's eyes. "When are we getting married?"

"Bitch, fucking propose already." Ellie snaps, but her eyes are brightened.

"Not without me," Avery chimes in. "You two can move in."

"Are asexuals invited?" Amir says, voice smooth and easy.

"As if you wouldn't be," Peter says, rolling his eyes with playful amusement. 

The rest of the conversation becomes increasingly chaotic, so my gaze flickers around other parts of the restaurant as the conversation progresses in the background. 

"Hi."

I'm pulled out of the conversation to glance across at Lucas, who has that easy lilt to his smile that I know perfectly well, an easy lilt that I'm so amazingly used to.

He adjusts the collar of his sweater, one of those grey crew-necks that gently hug his torso, a white collar peeking out of it. He's smiling, of course, eyes bright, aura gentle.

"You don't look bad," I decide, eyes flicking back up at him, the safest route to go.

"Wow, thanks Jason." Lucas says, sarcasm simple, eliciting soft laughs from me. "I can always count on my number one hype man."

"Always," I say, lips twitching.

"Great that I don't look bad, though." He says, eyes sparkling. 

"It's an improvement," I cough, eyes amused, ducking as Lucas leans over to swat at me.

But of course, the sound of the door opening cuts into our conversation. And it's most definitely a regular sound. After all, after school afternoons are busy, people coming in at different intervals, grabbing a bite to eat, settling down with their usual groups.

However, this time, I feel my shoulders sag. Just slightly. Because although the diner is a regular hangout for all T. Boulevard students, seeing Joe and David's group of rowdy athletes make their way into the space is slightly irritating, to say the least.

The football team, of course.

Interestingly enough, both Will McClain and James Jones are regulars on most of the school teams, depending on the season. However, there's always been a clear distinction— at least, in my mind—between guys like Will and guys like the Chads.

First of all, Will McClain most likely has an IQ well over the Chads' probable 2, and Will McClain— as joking and flirty as he may be—isn't an asshole. For one, he doesn't toy around with people, doesn't act more invested like he actually is.

Even though he doesn't often dive into serious relationships, when he does, there's an actual seriousness behind it, an actual investment. He makes it clear.

Did.

I try to ignore my wince. But the Chads—fuck, the Chads—are an entirely different breed. Nearly otherworldly. They all usher into the diner, led by one Joe Miller and another David Harris, rowdy as per usual.

Lucas' eyes follow them alongside me.

And of course, Harris glances in our direction, muttering something to his group. They let out some smug bellows before stuffing themselves into a booth. David rolls his eyes but parts from the rest of his group, making his way over to us.

The table comes to a hush as we all exchange pointed looks.

"Hey," David shoves his hands into his pockets, glancing at Lucas. "Running in to you again today." A tight grin. "But, I was wondering if you could help me with the math homework from this morning."

Lucas blinks a couple of times. Then he rises to his feet in seconds. "Sure."

My eyes narrow as Harris nods, walking off to the other side of the diner, Lucas at his heels. Ellie meets my eyes with an inquisitive look, but I glance away from her, eyes still on Lucas and David. They're talking towards the end of the diner.

I shouldn't fucking care, but my eyes find the two of them with curiosity. Lucas is smiling, David keeps on glancing around. Math homework is nowhere in sight. Have I already mentioned that David Harris keeps on fucking glancing around?

And then Lucas laughs a little, hands linked behind him as he glances up at Harris. Math homework, my ass. Harris nods, sending a brief glance to his table before returning his eye contact to Lucas.

After nothing less of an eternity, the two part and Lucas finally returns to our table.

"What'd he say?" I ask, Lucas slipping back into the seat across from me.

"Math homework." Lucas says blandly, taking a quaint little bite out of his sloppy joe.

My eyebrows quirk upwards, but Lucas is already diving into some other conversation with the rest of the GSA and my friends. 

Leaning back in my seat, my eyes find where David is seated at his table full of douchebags. They all let out laughs, and my eyes catch onto David who's laughing easily, raising a cup to his lips.

I try to read him, try to see behind those green eyes and smug laugh. My eyebrows knit together.

What the fuck is your game, Harris?

But I'm no less confused than I was before.

***

lucas has a crush :0

thoughts on david harris??

calculus is ✨painful✨

anyways thank u for reading i love all of u bye

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