1 Jealousy from afar

Stunned, shock and an overall feeling of suspense washed over him. Damian watched, closely. Skimming through the appearance of a classmate on front of him. He doesn't need to know the name of the stranger nor the importance of his presence either.

However, it took him a bit of restraint to march in on the conversation. To look at the person in the eye and say something, anything to hold a bit of an interruption. His heart clenches. His throat tightens, eyes stings from tears forming and it took a lot to exhale properly with the turmoil raging within him.

All he needs to focus is Lily. Her hair in a loose bun, wearing the typical P.E. uniform the school offers to the students; a dark blue jogging pants and a white shirt with the school logo.

He doesn't have to see her face to know she was smiling at the man who reciprocate the talk; from topic to another. It felt like hours to be on the other side of the situation when it was only a couple of minutes for him.

It hurts to realize Damian doesn't exactly have the right on her decision. Whatever that was to be honest. He was simply a nobody in her life, a classmate she only mingles when necessary.

He looks down on the ground and wonder if the P.E. teacher was being more of an ass today since the only command he delivered through text was to linger around the courtyard for unknown reason. The teacher still hasn't appeared and he was indecisive if whether it was luck or a curse.

The heat from the sun burns his face and forearms and he dreads to continue on with the self inflicted torture.

"Fuck," he muttered, disliking the guilt he felt as it affected the person close to him. A stink eye was he had received and he inched away from the crowd to the empty corner of the courtyard. He goes back to his mind and ponder.

He doesn't much power to withstand whatever development she has with a classmate of theirs and he was happy for her to be happy. It still hurts to be in this unrequited love, much more when his attraction is on a popular girl with multiple options than one.

"You know, you could always tell her," a familiar voice invaded his thoughts and he glanced at the person from the corner of his eye.

Ken, his friend, stand next to him. Ken's hair tied in a low ponytail and was wearing a typical male school uniform without the blazer. Ken should have also worn his P.E. uniform but it seems his friend had different ideas on the matter.

"Ken," he called out to his friend who greeted him with a nod.

Both their backs leaning against the wall and eyes directed to the crowd.

"It's not the right thing to do," he responded, continued on the topic his friend just dropped.

"That's a subjective answer," Ken replied back. "How do you even if it's the right course of action when you haven't thought this through besides the inevitable rejection."

"I think you answered your action." Ken sighed.

"How do you even know if she will say no?"

He was too tired to discuss the topic even further. His mouth was too dry and he could only stutter his words if he continued on. If only he can explain through his mind, bringing out his mental PowerPoint and slap the explanation on Ken's face then he's good to go.

Their conversation disperse from the lack of progress and the minutes passed by without any signs of a teacher. His eyes lingers at her once more and blushed to see she was facing at his direction but her attention was on somewhere else.

Turmoil gone when he was flustered. Giddy at the sloppy second eye to eye contact between them. The corner of his mouth quirked and he clenched at the bottom of his shirt.

"Someone's happy," Ken remarked.

He gave his friend a glare before looking down on the ground. Then he looks up, a crooked smile on his face to hide his real emotion but fails. He couldn't stop the skipping of his heartbeat and all of the sign of his sadness disappeared.

She was smiling. Lively by running around the courtyard, chasing, laughing and talking to a lot of people at once. Whatever game she was playing, it eases him. Soothes his pain.

Dramatic, exaggerated and the in between. He knows this crush of his shouldn't dictate too much of his teenage life. Unfortunately, he can't help it.

- - - - -

Class was dismissed. The majority of his classmates filed down on both doors of the classroom. There were chatters from every direction, a few of his classmates still lingered within the room and continued on what they were doing. So was he.

"You know, I could stay with you," Ken offered. His smile seems less genuine and more of a tease from the way it changes to a smirk. His friend's eyes narrowed at his form.

"And interrupt your 'me-time'?" Damian questions, a brow raised at the confidence slipping from Ken's previous expression.

Me-time, he exactly sure what it was now was simply anime, guitar practice and video games rolled into one kind of activity in one room and Ken sometimes put his existentialist crisis he is in at the moment.

Late puberty was what Damian blames on his friend's ramblings. However, even before the sudden surge of hormones ruining and molding their bodies into becoming men. Ken have always been a talkative little boy blabbering about literally everything and anything.

Nevertheless, it didn't stop their friendship beyond the tiny playground in their neighborhood.

"Fine, then!" his friend exclaimed. "I must seek the secret of happiness in the four corners of my estate."

Ken grinned, hopping out of the room, humming a tune Damian wasn't familiar. He sighed in relieved, clutching his hands together and fiddled with his fingers.

He stayed in his seat, ignoring the sunset hitting his face. All he can do at the moment was silently complaining about it in his head while staring at her, again.

She was wiping the writings in the blackboard while talking to the same classmate from P.E. She occasionally stopped, from time to time, distracted. Her responsibility still present in her mind when she goes back to her task. Classroom responsibility; she's an officer of their classroom; the mayor he points out.

Soon, they were only three.

Hushed whispers that he hears. Guilty from eavesdropping, he looked away from the duo. Flustered, embarrassed to the point of humiliation. His stomach twists and turns and mushes when he sees they were looking at his direction.

The sounds of footsteps brought more suspense into his being. Sweaty palms and forehead were the norm of his panicky reaction, but the slight quench of thirst was a new development. Maybe, he was clueless on what he will say to her? Scared? Regret? A tint of jealousy in the sundae of hormones running into his system?

He doesn't have any conclusion before someone cleared their throat. He hears it - or her, he concluded. Her tune, voice and Lily.

Lily.

"Yes?"

He wanted to slap himself. The squeak of his voice made the situation worse from his perspective.

Damian looked at her face before going down to the plain sight of his arm table. He didn't miss the sight of the slight pink tint on her lips nor can he forget the infamous red beaded earrings she wears everyday. The bun she bundles her hair with matures her feature, a woman he describers her as.

"I'm sorry but class has already ended," she tells him and he nodded. "You need to leave."

There wasn't any harshness of her tone, it was simply there as a reminder and he took it no matter the intention. Eyes facing down and so was his chest, he ignored the gaze from a classmate he still hasn't remember their name. A smirk he glimpses before it was wiped away and on his classmate went in distracting Lily.

Leaving him, alone. Afraid, panicky, and jealous.