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The Winged Heart
8. Unwanted attraction

8. Unwanted attraction

[Otto's POV - At lunch time ]

"You sold everything?! There really isn't anything left anymore?" I ask the lady behind the counter at the school cafeteria. She nods in reply.

“Then what am I supposed to eat?” I ask, the pitch of my voice high in distress.

The lady behind the counter shrugs, clearly not feeling the same distress as I am and says: "There are a few shops outside of the school, perhaps, you could go buy something there?"

"No I can't, I forgot my permission pass to leave school grounds at home," I say with regret as I only now feel the full weight of that error. I avert my eyes in shame from the lady at the counter and accidentally meet the eyes of a boy that would have simply passed by me if I hadn’t looked up. Yet, because our eyes meet, he freezes and stares at me with an expression that I can’t quite place. It reminds me a little of recognition. Or is it surprise? Either way, I can’t remember having seen him before, so why would he recognise me?

"That's not a problem, you can get a temporary pass at the helpdesk," the lady at the counter says and I snap my attention back to her.

"I guess I'll have to," I say regretfully. Since I started my break late, needing to pass by the helpdesk means I’ll be scarfing down my lunch. And even then it will be a challenge not to be late. "You really don't have ANY food anymore?"

"The only thing left is a strawberry yoghurt and dried apple slices," the lady points out. I stare at the two products she points at in contemplation. The yoghurt is a maybe, but the dried apple slices are just revolting. They don't taste like apple anymore, neither do they taste like chips. Either way, it's not enough to be a meal, and my temper gets really bad when I get hungry. So I shake my head to the lady and sigh as I check my watch. Just twenty minutes of the break left. I'll need to hurry. Let's just hope that I make it in time before the break ends.

"Excuse me," someone draws my attention while gently tapping my shoulder. I startle, but when I look up I find the boy that I had locked eyes with earlier. Why did he approach me? Am I blocking his path? No, a quick glance from the corner of my eye tells me that there are no obstacles in a one and a half meter radius around me, and thus, he could have easily passed me. But then what does he want? And why does he look so nervous?

"Oops, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he says hurriedly as he throws up his hands in a disarming manner. I notice that he is holding a packed sandwich in one of his hands. “I happened to hear that you are in need of a sandwich to eat. If you don’t mind, I still have a sandwich that I haven’t eaten. You can have it if you want.”

I’ve always known that I have an expressive face, but at times like this, I hate that I’m an open book even to strangers. I’ll need to work on a poker face. But for now, the question marks are probably written all over my face.

"Don't you need it yourself?" I ask. "I wouldn't want to steal your meal."

"O! No no no!" the boy says nervously. "I bought it to eat this evening, but unlike you, I do still have time to pass by the shop outside."

"Are you sure?" I ask. The boy nods. "I would love it then, how much do I owe you?"

"I paid three euros sixty myself."

"You have yourself a deal then,” I chuckle as I reach him the money that I would have otherwise handed the lady behind the counter. My smile stiffens when I notice that he is looking at me with a much warmer expression than the situation warrants. Combined with the fact that this boy read my expression like an open book earlier, it really frustrates me that I have no clue what he’s thinking. But before the thought can sour my mood, I place the coins I’m holding into his free hand.

"It should be the right amount,” I say as I reach for the sandwich in his other hand. He lets go of the sandwich while glancing at the coins.

"Anyway, thank you! Bye!" I say as I almost flee the scene, struggling to keep my polite smile into place. I don’t wait for his reaction. I’m too scared he’ll look at me strangely again.

“Don’t dwell on it. Don’t dwell on it. Don’t dwell on it!” I chant inside my head like a mantra, take a calming breath and say out loud to distract myself: "Now, to find a place to sit. Where could Jasper and Jessy be?”

"No, they aren’t here. I saw them in the courtyard before I came here earlier,” a voice right behind me says. For the second time in less than ten minutes, I nearly jump out of my skin as I hadn’t paid attention to the people around me and whip my attention in the direction of the voice.

"O! Alex,” I sigh in relief as I put a hand on my chest. My heart is beating really fast. For a moment, I had thought the boy who’d sold me his sandwich had followed me. What an egocentric thing to think. I’m disappointed with myself.

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“Aren’t you jumpy today. Guilty conscience?” he asks, a half smirk playing at his lips, but then shakes his head as if erasing the question again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask, as I avoid his eyes embarrassedly. His remark about the guilty conscience struck a nerve. I’m not sure why though.

“I showered after gym-class, which somehow automatically means that I’ll have to eat alone, because nobody else seems to be stupid enough to offer up a quarter of their lunch break for hygiene,” Alex answers my question. Is it just my imagination, or is Jasper’s chattering rubbing off on him? I look him up and down and notice that his hair is still damp from his recent shower. Yet, he put it up in ponytail? What a strange thing to do. If I put my hair up when it is wet, it will never dry.

“But, enough about me. Let’s quickly choose a place to sit and eat before all the time your knight in shining armour saved you is wasted again,” Alex says, his lips stretched wide in a thin line and the corners of his mouth turned up in mirth. I click my tongue but further ignore his remark.

“How long had you been behind me? You really should have said something.”

”I spotted you when you handed him the money,” Alex says with a shrug. “I do feel sorry for the poor sod though. It was so clear that he’d mustered up all his courage to talk to you and you practically blew him off.”

I follow Alex as he weaves himself a way through the tables. We find a free table near the back, and I slump into the chair, unwrapping the sandwich while Alex slides into the seat across from me.

“What are you talking about? Why would anyone need to muster courage to talk to me?” I ask while I frown in confusion.

“Why else would a guy need to muster up courage to talk to a girl? He probably likes you,” Alex says as he shrugs nonchalantly and then adds as an afterthought: “Who knows? Maybe he fell in love at first sight? Or maybe he’s been watching you for a while.”

My blood freezes. Was that what it was? Is that why his expression had reminded me of recognition? Why he seemed nervous to talk to me? Why his reaction seemed overly happy? Alex’s observation might be right on the dot. Although I wish that I could tell him that he was imagining things.

I really hate that type of shallow affection. They see blond hair and blue eyes and what? They fall in love at first sight? Bullshit. I don't react to shallow advances like that. I know that once the illusion of my appearance fades, they won't like what they find behind it. They won't like me.

“Wow, that is a really grim expression.” Alex’s remark pulls my thoughts back to our conversation. “Aren’t girls usually overjoyed to receive that type of attention?”

I scowl, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in my hand. “Maybe some girls,” I mutter, staring at the sandwich like it holds the answers to all life’s problems. “But not me. I don’t trust that kind of attention. It’s never about me—just some fantasy.”

Alex leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “While I completely agree with your reasoning, your reaction is a bit short sighted. Whether he has a crush on you or not, your mindset is preventing you from making new friends. From broadening your world.”

I startle.

Alex might be onto something.

And yet, the thought of talking to a stranger, who might be under the illusion that he loves me, terrifies me to the point that I am clenching the sandwich in my hands. I bite the sandwich in an attempt to hide my terror, but immediately regret the action as a foul taste dominates my mouth.

“Ugh…” I voice my disappointment out loud. “Oh no, I forgot to check the ingredients used to make the sandwich. This is surimi salade with slices of tomato on top.”

A soft chuckle makes me look up. Alex has a hand over his mouth to keep himself from laughing, his shoulders shaking visibly with the effort. But my pouty frown is a dead giveaway that he’s been caught laughing.

“Sorry, it’s just that,” he starts to say as he looks for words. “I couldn’t help but think that your reaction to the sandwich was the perfect summary of how you think about socialising with new people.”

“I’ll eat it anyway,” I say, unable to hide the disappointment from my voice. “I don’t have anything else to eat. Not eating will definitely disagree with me.”

Alex’s smile softens this time, as if his earlier mockery was a distant illusion.

“We can trade our lunches if you like? I don’t mind surimi salade,” he says.

“What did you bring?” I ask, only barely managing to keep myself from drooling. Alex usually brings amazing looking lunch boxes with him.

“Let’s see, there are some egg rolls, some green grapes, some slices of bread with cheese on them…” Alex sums up, but I don’t need the whole list to know that it is exactly what I like to eat.

“Yes please,” I mumble embarrassedly. I feel a warm blush colour my cheeks. Needing to be saved by two guys in one day? That’s a new low. Alex merely smiles kindly and slides his lunchbox towards me while holding out his hand for my sandwich.

“It’s ok, Otto. No need to be embarrassed, I know you’d help me too if I was in trouble,” he says as I hand him my sandwich with already one bite missing. I know he said those words to comfort me, but now I only feel extra guilty and embarrassed.

“I don’t think I would have given you my food if you didn’t have any,” I say in answer to his questioning stare.

“I didn’t ‘give’ you my food. We traded,” Alex says neutrally.

“I don’t think I would have traded for food that I don’t like either,” I counter him seriously.

“It’s not because you don’t like surimi that I don’t like it either,” he says, takes a bite and grimaces.

“These tomatoes are stale,” Alex says as he fishes the tomatoes from between the bread and takes another bite. “Much better. Thank God, the taste of the tomatoes didn’t cling to the sandwich.”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me, which turns into a full blown smile when Alex looks up to me in confusion. He’s an oddball that Alex. He can act really grumpy and seems even more socially awkward than I am, but he’s really smart and dependable too. I still don’t really like him, because he always makes me feel stupid and incompetent whenever we talk. But I guess that I don’t have to villainise him either.