T&D: The Hook - short story

This is a (very) short story I wrote awhile back and forgot about. Found it recently, polished it up, and did an illustration for it. I think it has the potential to be longer and expanded upon, but I want to get in the habit of sharing more of my writing, even if it's short and unfinished. It's a really great way to explore character stuff in a more substantial way because I can more readily share it with you guys. Hope you enjoy!

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It's the fall semester of his junior year of high school and Tony has a crush on the new guy.

The Hook, Grant Lee Buffalo

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In that moment he dropped his gaze and knew he'd stared for too long. A fleeting glance; the kind of exchange that no one would ever remember. He would remember.

The morning bell rang and class settled into place, disorganized murmuring and shifting filled the room as a monotonous drone. Tony sat at the back of the classroom, his usual fare that reinforced his unimportant and unrecognized position in the room. Despite his efforts, the classes at Greenfield High were small and saturated with the universal principal of a small town. Against their will, everyone knew everyone. At least half of the teens in the room had been in school together since elementary, and the teachers had taught their older siblings before them.

But one face stood out. Tony dared another look.

The new guy. He sat two seats down to Tony's left with his head down, locked in his notebook, scribbling, while Mrs. Benson rolled out the projector. Tony hadn't caught his name yet. He was a lean kid with a head of curly hair that hid from view a pair of large black glasses, and he might have looked wimpy if he wasn't so tall. His converse silently tapped away the chorus of an unknown rhythm. His sharp wrists and thin hands working away at the page, another hand propped under the curve of neck which was only hinted behind curls. Tony knew he shouldn't consider these things so carefully.

What was his name?

Miraculously, Tony had been present on the first day of class, but the newest student hadn't arrived until nearly three weeks after the semester had begun, and the formalities of introduction were lost on Tony when he just so happened to find himself not at school that day. Another two weeks had passed and still he'd not gathered the initiative to ask him. He figured it might be unbecoming of his class persona to show interest in anything.

It was only in geometry that time seemed to break its crippled pace. Benson had said something and the class began to move in an ununified order back and forth to her desk at the other end of the room.

"Anthony?" She prompted. Her voice hung in the air long enough for the class to catch it and his neck burned with flashing stares.

Silence, and then, "Don't have it, miss."

"Is this the way we want to start the semester?"

Her firm stance hovering over his desk was overbearing, and after another silence that demanded an answer he replied, "No." That had meant to sound more dismissive than it had.

One shrug from him and a glare from her that suggested there would be words later, and the class resumed around him.

He cheated a looked to his left and felt a flash of heat as his check had been marked by a reciprocating glance and the two boys shared another fainting exchange, like static electricity discharging through the completed circuit. Somehow this felt like a more significant interaction as Tony was certain he'd been overheard.

He had really needed to to that homework. He'd forgotten about it, really... sometime shortly after writing the assigned page numbers on a scrap of lined paper, folding it into a small square, and then leaving it in the front pocket of the jeans last week. His crossed arms remained his only defense.

When the bell rang Tony slid from his desk into the hallway, hands in his pockets and without waiting for another word from Benson. The lecture was unneeded but he had a premonition that he'd catch it sooner rather than later. The halls filled with students and the stale quiet of buzzing overhead lights was then replaced with chatter, squeaking shoes, and the clattering of lockers. He felt the paper in his pocket crumple between his hand as he thought about things he shouldn't.

He didn't bother with a backpack and didn't need anything from his locker but he needed a familiar face, who he found twisting the combination attached to his neighboring locker.

"Hey, Dex."

Dexter looked up from his dialing, only briefly, but his expression relaxed into familiarity. His oversized pastel button up, thin wire tinted glasses, and gentle face lent him a unique sense of warmth. Everyone liked Dex. And Dex knew everyone.

Tony's eyes dropped as he gestured with his head, "You know that guy?"

Dexter leaned back, glancing, as he pulled the lock and unlooped it, "Oh, the new kid? I think it's Dean, but I'm not sure. You got any classes with him?"

"Yeah, Geometry."

"You talk to him?"

He gripped the paper in his pocket, "Nah." He wasn't going to let the silence fall, "You gonna need a ride after class?"

"Naw, I've gotta meeting for student council prep."

Tony pulled back into a smile, shoulder against the locker and arms against his chest, "Man, that's so gay."

"Because I'm in a club?"

"No, that'd only make you a loser. Because you're in the popularity club."

"You know we don't do anything."

"Really? I thought you jerked each other off."

Dex shut his locker door, "Why, wanna join? Or is yours a solo club?"

Tony smirked and studied his shoe,"Sorry, just not popular."

Dex threw his bag over his shoulder, "Come over later, got some fresh flower."

"You've got some cool after all."

"We can't all be as tragic as you."

Tony watched him go. His hand was sweaty and the paper in his pocket suddenly disgusted him as he tossed it into his locker, slamming it shut before any loose sheets fluttered out. The bell rang but he favored a smoke instead and pushed his way through double doors that lead to the parking lot.