His Name Was Jack

We used to talk all the time once but His immaturity got in the way and He blanked me. I overthought it for some time but I soon got over it, blaming it on his immature mind. I knew He was into me, He told me so but I didn’t like Him the same way He did me. But then one day He spoke to me again. After a year of acting like I didn’t exist, that is.

We were in science, physics to be exact, and there was a seat between us. The person that usually sat between us wasn’t there that Friday afternoon and we had to work together. It was an awkward five minutes of small talk at first but it somehow led to Him telling me about a large rugby match He was playing on that April night. I gave him a supporting smile, wishing Him good luck but then He looked down at the science lab floor and asked if I wanted to go with him to watch.

How could I say no?

His dad picked me up from my house and we drove, in almost complete silence, to where the match was being held. My head was clouded with nerves and I couldn’t recall much except the masses of people everywhere. That was all I could focus on. Then I remember walking onto the field with him. I had never known this to happen at a rugby game but it did.

I looked around me and I was overwhelmed. So many people were looking from the stands. From what I could see, I was one of the only boys on the field walking with a player; the rest were girls. I turned to look up at Him and He walked on tall. ‘There’s so many people, I’m scared.’ I spoke to him, jokingly, trying to hide the slither of truth behind the joke. He looked down at me and smiled, chuckling a little.

He held out his hand.

I looked down at his large hand and slid my fingers between His. His fingers closed the same as mine did and I felt goosebumps raise on my arms. His hands were so soft and almost refreshing, contrasting the sport he played. I was confused but it felt natural as my nerves faded away. At that moment, I felt safe like nothing could hurt me.

But was this just for appearance?

Would He be the one to hurt me after the day was done?

Why would this be for appearance?

What if He really did like me again?

Did he ever lose feelings?

How could-

I opened my eyes, lifting my head off the graffitied desk. I remembered. I was in science, physics to be exact. I looked towards the person I usually worked with but she wasn’t there that Friday afternoon. I had to work with Him.

His name was Jack.