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“Rudyard!” Mrs. Craig shouts, “You have to actually participate in class. Try a bit harder. Maybe reach for the ball instead of letting it fall next to you.”
Previously, Rudyard had been muttering under his breath about how he despises gym shorts and gym in general. Today was volleyball day. He heeded the teacher’s advice and put forth a little more effort. Just a little though. Currently he was on the front row, next to the net. His gangly legs jutted out beneath his too large gym shorts.
Mrs. Craig continued to shout encouragement to various students. Eric Chapman, the transfer, was infuriatingly good and thus received much praise.
Chapman was in the same position as Rudyard; directly in front the net. When he jumped to hit the ball, his shirt lifted a little and Rudyard had a view of his ‘v’. His hair tousled and when he ran his hands through it he could see the beads of sweat rolling, rolling, rolling- wait what was he thinking?! No. Chapman was too nice. Too kind. Too… Chapman.
It angered Rudyard to no end. Sure, he was never good at volleyball but he was good at science. He may not have any friends, but he had Madeline, the science class’s pet. But Chapman. Chapman was great at volleyball. He was good in science. He was practically friends with every person who even glanced his way. Rudyard was sick of his nice guy façade. The guy was a total kiss ass. Every teacher adored him, every girl fawned over him, and every guy wanted to be him… some even wanted to be with him.
Rudyard blushed. Not that he thought about that or felt that way. No sir, he felt nothing towards *shudder* Eric Chapman. Just thinking about it repulsed him.
No, Rudyard Funn was going to work in a funeral home. It was the family business after all. However, he couldn’t think of a good motto. Every good business has a good motto, Rudyard thought to himself.
Unfortunately, while pondering over what his motto should be, Chapman spiked the ball. Normally, this wouldn’t effect Rudyard except this time, the ball landed squarely on his face.
Rudyard, quite dramatically, fell to the ground. Mrs. Craig blew the whistle and Chapman slipped under the net and fell to his knees to lean over and check on Rudyard. Rudyard opened his eyes to find Eric Chapman mere inches from his face. He snarled.
“Chapman!” Rudyard roared, clutching his injured nose.
Eric gently placed his hand on Rudyard’s shoulder. “Rudyard are you alright?” A bead of sweat dripped from his nose and rolled down Rudyard’s cheek. Rudyard wiped it away. Chapman seemed worried enough but his nose bloody hurt! Mrs. Craig rushed over and inquired if he was okay.
“Don’t worry Mrs. Craig,” Chapman assured her, “I’ll take him to the nurse.” Chapman kneeled and offered a hand to Rudyard. Rudyard, still clutching one hand to his face despairingly took the offered hand. After Chapman rather easily lifted Rudyard to his feet, there was a moment where it seemed as if he didn’t want to let go. “C’mon Rudyard. Let’s get you fixed up.” Rudyard dismissed the moment and blamed his post-concussion muddled brain.
Rudyard huffed but began to follow Chapman out of the gymnasium. “I really am sorry, Rudyard. I didn’t think I hit it that hard.”
Of course, Rudyard thought. Apologizes for not knowing his own strength. Chapman playfully bumps Rudyard’s shoulder. Rudyard gently touches right below his nose. “I’m not bleeding am I? I think I’m bleeding.”
Chapman smiles easily. “You’re not bleeding Rudyard.”
Rudyard glares at him. “You do realize it’s your fault I think I’m bleeding. Honestly, you should really watch what you’re doing.” Rudyard once again touches right beneath his nose and inspects his finger for blood. Chapman watches and laughs. Rudyard glares in response but feels warm inside.
They walk in silence for a bit. “Would you like to go out for coffee with me?” Chapman says under his breath.
Rudyard stopped, “Sorry?” Eric stops a pace ahead and turns back.
There is a slight blush against his cheeks. Eric coughs. “I said, ‘would you like to go out for coffee with me.’ I understand if you don’t want to. You probably hate me now. I just… thought it might be a good way to apologize.” Chapman rubs the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed.
Rudyard opens and closes his mouth, searching for something to say. Surely Eric Chapman, THE Eric Chapman wasn’t asking him out on a… date? No. Don’t be absurd. There is no way Chapman would want to date me. Was he being bashful? No, must be a trick of these florescent lights. Chapman can’t be bashful. His body wasn’t made for it. It was made for easy smiles and early morning jogs and wearing shorts and shaking hands. I was made for ghoulish smiles and belonging among the dead, and silence, and friendlessness. No compatibility. None.
Seconds pass. Finally Rudyard chokes out, “What?”
Eric’s expression visibly falls. “F-forget about it. It’s fine.” He begins to walk again and Rudyard stands there.
Rudyard, his mind wheeling, unable to form coherent thoughts jogs forward and grabs Chapman’s arm. “Chapman, wait.” Chapman stops and turns. “I-I. I- don’t hate you Chapman. I’m sure as hell not happy that you broke my nose-“
“-Not broken.”
“- or that everyone loves you or that you’re perfect. But I-“
“- You think I’m perfect?”
A blush creeps up Rudyard’s cheeks, bringing color to the pale skin, “Shut up, Chapman. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t hate you.” Rudyard thought to all the times his breath hitched when Chapman chose Rudyard for a science partner, or when he would while away English by staring at Chapman. He always thought it was disgust he felt when Chapman waltzed past. But maybe it was something worse… Maybe it was affection. “I would like to take you up on that offer for coffee.”
Chapman smiled sincerely. Sure, his other smiles were real but this one? This one was happy. This smile was reserved for Rudyard.
As they began walking again, Chapman felt a clammy, shaky hand begin to wrap around his palm and Chapman smiled once more and grasped the other’s hand firmly. “Coffee it is then.” They walked to the nurse’s office hand-in-hand in comfortable quiet.