- 2012-04-22 • Drama • 11 authors • 11 sentences That Game
Somehow, I knew; I wondered and waited, but deep down I knew. I saw the picture and all doubts were confirmed. I had lost.
Letting out a shaky laugh I looked up at him, meeting his dark eyes, and then glanced away, my face burning in shame and embarrassment. "You won," I croaked out, scratching my cheek, trying to sound nonchalant. "I… I fell in love first…" He looked almost surprised, and then his eyes clouded over, as if he was thinking about something hard and foreign. The old me, the one who didn’t know him, might have made a cruel joke, but I couldn’t now. I understood him now. "It seems that way," he said, trying to meet my gaze, but I averted it.
But how it happened is still a blur to me. I’d "known" him for some time, we weren’t really friends. In fact, I didn’t even know his middle name, well not until recently. And I the first time we actually talked was during a project.
No, I hadn’t really known him that well, but things were different now. Everything was so different now. I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to act, or how I wanted to act. How did he want me to act? I mean, we were friends now, right? I raised my eyes to look at him. I hoped this was a natural progression, that this wasn’t just me. I looked at him and all I could think was I understood him now.
But the project. Yeah, lets talk about how we actually met. We got assigned to work together for a Biology project. It was beyond simple, and I knew I could finish the whole in 2 days tops. And really, i had wanted to work by my self that way I didn’t have to worry about anyone else not pulling their weight. His parents were strange, out-there type of people (and I would get to know a lot more about them later) so they had named him Callum. I guess he might have gotten at least teased when everyone was still getting to know him, but they found out he was nice enough guy and just stopped the bantering. There was another reason people stopped making fun of him. Callum was autistic.
Not severely or anything, but enough that it made a difference. But he had problems with focusing on one thing for more than an hour. Normally, you could see it in his expression, the anxiety, the uncertainty - but this was different; in Science, there was a certain knowledge to him, a confidence that I can only wonder about. When testing a hypothesis or examining a microscopic protozoan, everything about him would sparkle with understanding - his complexion pinked, his breath drew swiftly, the throbbing in his neck quickened to a lively pace.
To me though, he was the best when guiding the teacher in something he knew better. Everyone felt his enthusiasm, I just fell in love with it. Why, why did god make being a teen, being in love, being truthful so hard ? If only I could figure this out now.
Of course I couldn’t so I tryed to look at him again. You could tell this was out of his field. Love was too complicated for him. I doubted it was going to be easier for me. Automaticly I noticed his autism was kicking in. I definetly lost. In love with a boy who could only focus on science. It would be the shame of the millenia. The whole problem started though when during the planning part of the project I asked him something. Something personal. And his reply took my breath away.