Aaron chuckled, a light, airy sound that belied the nervous flutter in his stomach. He climbed the staircase, his footsteps echoing in the stairwell. The faint scent of floor wax and disinfectant filled the air. He pushed open the double doors, a rush of cool air greeting him as he stepped into the hallway. He was excited, finally going to ask out Emma, the girl of his dreams. He pictured her face, a source of both comfort and anxiety. They were childhood friends, their shared history a foundation of their connection. He remembered their laughter, the close moments, their hands brushing, the subtle touches sending shivers down his spine. He could almost feel her breath on his neck. These memories made his heart fizz with glee.
He couldn't quite decipher her true feelings. Did she truly dislike him? The possibility sent a pang of rejection through him. Or did she harbor a secret admiration for someone else? The thought sparked a jealous twinge in his chest. He remembered the moment he had almost kissed her. He had wanted to make out with her, envisioning the heat of their bodies pressed together. She had chuckled nervously, made an excuse, pushed him away, suggested watching a movie. He had stayed up late with her, watching movies until one of them fell asleep, the platonic intimacy a bittersweet reminder of the unfulfilled romantic connection.
The ambiguity of her emotions was a frustrating puzzle. He hoped this confession would even things out. He wanted to understand what was wrong. Was she worried about *him* rejecting *her*? The possibility surprised him, sending a renewed surge of hope through him.
He turned his attention back to the vibrant screen. His character, Abigail the swordswoman, lay sprawled on a patch of digital grass, her chest rising and falling gently with simulated breaths. He paced back and forth, the click of his character's boots against the virtual cobblestones a soothing counterpoint to the unsettling silence. He rested his back against the lockers, feeling the cool metal against his skin. He felt the vibration of his phone. Chat bubbles appeared above the heads of other players. Kevin, his avatar dressed as the mischievous bard Venti, typed a message in bright green font:
"Bro, where the hell are you, Aaron, bud? It's been longer than a bathroom break."
Other messages popped up, echoing Kevin's concern. He sighed and typed his reply:
"Dude, I'm about to do the toughest thing in my life, ask out Emma. I can't let anything distract me now."
He hit enter and resumed his virtual pacing. He was talking with Kevin on FaceTime simultaneously, seeing Kevin's face on the small screen. He smiled slightly. He was chilling against the lockers, the metal pressing against his spine. He heard the laughter and chaos of chanting downstairs. The quiet of the hallway filled him with ease.
Kevin read Aaron's message with a mix of amusement and concern. He pictured the scene unfolding downstairs, imagining the flush of embarrassment on Aaron's face. He knew Aaron's childhood friendship with Emma was getting serious. He remembered how Aaron would often get distracted while playing, keep dying in the game. Each decline of affectionate action from Emma had led Aaron to become more desperate. This had culminated in Aaron's decision to "go for the kill switch." He pictured Aaron hastily retreating to the bathroom.
A smirk touched Kevin's lips. He felt a twinge of sympathy for his friend. He was proud of Aaron for finally having the courage to take what he wanted. He typed a swift reply, his emerald cape billowing in the digital breeze:
"Oh man, that's rough! Your babe a real piece of work, isn't she? But hey, at least you got a free show, right? Silver linings and all that jazz!"
He chuckled as he hit send. The cheeky grin on his avatar mirrored his own. "Leave it to Aaron to find himself in such a predicament," he thought, shaking his head.
Aaron smiled and stared at the new wave of chat bubbles. He scanned through them, his eyes widening at one particularly crude comment.
"K-Kev-Kevin?" Aaron typed, his hands growing clammy. "What the hell do you mean by that–"
He was ready to finish his sentence when Kevin replied:
"Dude, maybe you're just trying to figure out whether he's more of a butt man or a tiddy man. Trust me, the butt is ample, like the size of the moon."
The comment drew a burst of laughter from the group chat. Kevin licked his lips in lust and mischief.
Aaron's face blushed crimson. He internally screamed. He typed in all caps, crouching down and pulling his hoodie over his head. He felt the group of students walking past him. He was hanging out in the hallways, hearing the students reaching their class, their voices fading.
"KEVIN?!" he yelled, his voice muffled by his hoodie. He pressed enter and shook his head in a sigh. He closed his eyes and slumped against the lockers, the metal pressing against his spine. He felt the lock digging into his back.