Grant, my wish (Crush one, pt. two)

"...

| 12th September 2013

Let's skip to when I was nine, fourth grade. Smoothest year of my life so far, honestly.

I was sitting in the classroom and staring at the ceiling. I had finished writing the test and was looking for a way to entertain myself.

I shut my eyes and tried to picture Bastille, my imaginary best friend. An angelic being with white wings who gave me answers to tests.

Damn... was I crazy?

No, I wasn't. It's easier to remember things when you attach them to certain memories and for some reason 'Angel', by Abbott Thayer was the image that always haunted me. A photograph of my brother and I next to it in a gallery hung at our drawing room and I used to randomly look at it as I looked through my textbooks.

"You're done already?" Asher asked me.

This was Asher Seam, my senior by exactly a year. Now that I think about it, he's the only Asher I knew that wasn't named after a certain 'celebrity'. Asher Seam was a transfer student from LA, specifically Hollywood- and surprisingly, his parents seemed to not be into the industry itself.

"Yeah..." I nodded, opening my eyes.

"That one's wrong," he said, pointing at a particular sum.

"It's math. Who cares. I've done it."

"It's still wrong."

The one thing I'd always known about Asher Seam, was that he was persistent.

"Well what are you writing?"

"Check the board."

"I'm partially blind," I said gesturing at my newly brought spectacles.

He sighed. "English."

"Well can I see?"

He reluctantly handed over his sheet. I gave him mine so that the examiner wouldn't suspect anything. We were sitting in the very first bench, but somehow got away.

The examiner was asleep anyway...

I squinted my eyes, trying to decipher his scrawny scribbles. I caught sight of simple words like 'complicated' being spelt horribly. This is why you check what you've written...

"Hey Asher!" I hissed.

"What?"

"Dude! Everything's wrong... I mean, most of them are..."

"It's English. Who cares," he said, in an attempt at what I assume was to mock me. He waved his hands above his head- barely bothered by the fact that we were taking an exam.

"That's where you can score man!"

"Fine, can you answer it then?"

I froze. I had never helped anyone during a test. At least, not a senior.

"But... you're a senior!"

"So?"

I frowned and looked back down at the sheet. I quickly went through the whole paper and corrected every single thing I could.

"Did you even read the Saki one?" I scoffed softly.

"The Image of the Lost Soul? No. Can you even subtract?"

"Shut up."

After about seven minutes, I called out to him softly. He didn't respond, still focusing on my paper. Looking for mistakes to make fun of, probably...

I gently tapped his head.

"You're done? Already? It took me an entire hour to write all that!" he hissed as he jerked awake from his trance.

"Top reason I should be a publisher," I shrugged.

"How do I return the favour?" he asked, a little worried. "Shall I do your math?"

"No, thanks," I scoffed and snatched my sheet.

The examiner suddenly looked up from the desk.

"You two... you done...?" he asked sleepily.

I quickly walked up to him and handed over my sheet. His eyes scanned to check if I really had written everything- including my roll number.

Without looking back, I gathered my stuff and left the classroom as fast as I could.

Asher's eyes followed my every move as he followed suit. Majority of the class was busy writing. Only a couple of students who barely acknowledged my existence were leaving.

But I wasn't fast enough. The persistent parakeet managed to chase after me, all while hissing my name venemously.

"Hey! Wait up!" Asher caught up with me in a moment.

"Asher Seam, if I'd got caught- I swear to god, you'll be dead."

Asher chuckled. "Sure I would."

I silently walked on. He very annoyingly chose to follow me down the stairs, to the playground.

"What?!?" I snapped, facing him.

"I'm bored," he smiled.

Not gonna lie, I was bored too...

"Can we sit down?" he offered.

"Sure." I sat down on a tree stump. He sat next to me.

"Asher Williams is your brother, right?" he asked, somewhat curious.

"Yeah, so? Wanted to play soccer with him or what?"

"Exactly how many Ashers do you know?" he asked, completely avoiding my previous question.

"Four or five..." I said thinking about the different Ashers.

"There's my brother, classmates, you..." I stopped, wondering if I should mention writers and actors I was a fan of that coincidentally were named Asher.

"That sure is a lot... do you like any of them?" He emphasised the 'like', not bothering to let me finish. It made me wonder if Asher Seam was talking to me for some reason.

"I like them all."

"All?!? Even your brother?" he exclaimed, looking taken aback.

That was when I realised what he meant.

"Ew no! Do you even realise we're too young for this conversation? You're like ten!"

I hold back the urge to hit him. Now that I think about it, I'm pretty sure only nine and ten year olds ever were decent enough to not push such topics- after that, everything just changed.

I'm not gonna tell you about that just yet.

"Whatever, I heard Grant likes you," Asher shrugged.

"Grant who?!?"

"Destiny!" a voice that wasn't either of ours called out. I looked over my shoulder to see Sylvia Mathers running towards us, clutching her dark blue bag with something in Chinese written on it.

"Hey Syl..." I greeted her.

"Hey, it's time. School's over..."

"Yeah...?"

"Well see you later, Destiny," Asher waved.

"Actually you won't. This was the last test. Holidays, remember?" Sylvia answered for me. I was thankful for that.

"Yeah... the holidays... happy holidays, then!" he smiled.

"Yeah, you too..." I waved back trying to look cheery.

He abruptly turned around and left. I looked at his retreating figure until Sylvia started squealing. "From this day onwards, I'll call you... Grant!"

"No. You shall not."

"Why not?"

"Not a word outside. You take this to your grave. Besides, I don't even know Grant..."

Sylvia quirked an eyebrow. "You don't?"

"Nah..."

She walked with me till the gates. "Where's your 'best friend' by the way?" she asked, obviously somehow annoyed.

"Sylvia..." I sighed.

But, I wished I knew.

~

| 4th November 2013

School had started again and I was merely hoping it would pass by in the blink of an eye. It was a ritual... habit, of mine.

But considering I vaguely remember majority of it, I guess the ritual failed.

Also, please don't point out the fact that I remember the dates. I feel pathetic, but I'd feel worse if I left out what I weirdly happen to remember.

"Grant?" the substitute teacher called out.

"Yes ma'am."

My eyes to followed the loud voice and honestly, I was extremely unprepared. I literally was going to suffer from the heart eyes for possibly forever.

For the first time in the whole entire 4th grade, I allowed myself to look at Grant.

Teacher's pet. Not so smart, but still cool.

Quite notorious, but still liked by teachers. If you're wondering if that's even possible, it is.

Grant had soft-looking brown curls and magnetic green eyes. And a way with words.

Grant was that one guy one would remember forever.

He was the guy that named me 'Princess'. And 'Blue', 'cause of my hair.

He also was the first guy to make my heart skip a beat.

And it's not like I could've just 'told him' how he affected me...

..."