Gogh Ahn's Freshman First Day

 

        As a freshman in a new school, Go decided that the way to eventually talk to the most-adorable classmate (who they had yet-to notice or even recognize the potential identity of) was to memorize the full names of every person in the entire class.  To start with some anyone sitting nearby, in First-Period Homeroom, and to later decide if the project was worth continuing; that was Go's mental outline of a preliminary sketch.  And if it "grew legs of its own" that would depend on factors outside today's control, Go thought, sitting down at their assigned classroom table.
 
        "Hi, I'm Gogh Ahn; I've got this new project.  To memorize everyone's full name in the freshman class.  Can you help?"

        The buckteeth with fingerprint smudges on their glasses smiled up from the scrolling flicker under their chin and replied, "Ok.  So, my name is Bill Lawler.  It's actually William, but I've been called 'Bucky Billy' for so long it's stuck-on and I hate it.  So.  Whatcha'gonnado?"
 
        "Will-Yam Law-Ler.  No nicknames.  Yer not a Law-Yer.  What's a favorite thing of yours?  Something you'd prefer to be doing?"  Go smiled and listened.  Hands folded.  Not fidgeting.
 
        "Drinking a caffeinated drink.  But I'm supposed to be Mormon; so, I'd rather my family didn't know.  So, if you were to take a cold-one out of that backpack, I'd haveta decline because there are spies in our midst!"  William's voice lowered, eyes shifted, and shoulders hunched in an exaggerated-miming manner.  "In visual-range, there are at-least two potential snitches - ahh, fellow parishioners - who know one or more of too-many backstabbing siblings."

        Go's smile became a silent laugh.  "Nice, nice.  William Lawler, nicknames none, Mormon drinking a Monster drink."  Also pretending subterfuge, Go murmured, "If those spies were fellow freshman, would you happen to know any of their full names?  For my memorization assignment?"

        "So.  Sarah Turner is the dimples you can only see in profile, the one who's reading an actual paperback at the corner table.  They spell their name different though."
 
        "Interesting detail."
 
        "But I don't mean surface-level different.  So, they go by some letter combination that sounds slightly similar to s.a.r.a.h but I don't remember what it is.  Sounds almost like Za-eR-ha!  Their giggles combined and danced together briefly.  Once it subsided, William continued, "But, so's you know: they'll certainly re-tell you how it's pronounced.  Every time you say their name.  Even if you are positively certain your pronunciation is identical."

        "Let me see if I got this right:  Asperger's Sarah-with-a-Z re-reads paperbacks.  Anyone else?"  Their giggles reunited for a second or two.

        "Um yep.  Behind our backs.  Gerry.  But I don't know if that's short for anything, Gerry Smythe.  They prefer to whisper."

        "Come again?" Go whispered, quieter-now, and started another giggle-back.

        "So, Gerry can yell and holler and talk just as loud as, like, everyone.  Outside.  Inside, they only whisper."  The shrug of William's shoulders and straight face said:  no shit.

        "Geraldine Smythe's inside voice . . . is . . ."  Go turned it into a question.  And, as William whispered, "a secret," their giggles reignited and, eventually, subsided.
 
        Go listened during attendance.  The highly-paid adult babysitter with permanently-sad eyes, like a basset hound's, eventually got around to: "Gerry Smythe" and they replied with a nominally shushed de-escalating *here* (with the don't-wanna-be part, silent).  Because it was low-volume, it sounded more like an exhale after a deep breath.  After a few other names, sad-eyes said: "Sar-a-turn-er."  The paperback switched hands, right hand was raised and they said, "Tsaa. Raa." without even a tinge of sigh.

        "We allowed to get up and sit anywhere after attendance?"  Go asked.

        "Depends."  William said without taking eyes off the flicker.  "There are some who always show up late and one of them is Bert.  Bert Frank.  They drive."  Eyes raised, they locked on to Go's, as they said, "A sixteen year old Freshman who will definitely tell you to get out of their seat.  Especially if it really is theirs."  

        "Where is that seat in which no one sits but Voldemort?"  Go snickered.

        "In the back with the outcasts and ostracized."  William nodded his head toward the farthest-from-the door and most distance from sad-eyes' location.  
 
        "Is there a way of making a distinction?"  Go wondered quietly aloud; when William didn't follow, they clarified, "between the ostracized and the outcasts?"
 
        "oh, so..." William replied as if this was commonly known-to-all in this school, "Outcast's choose who they are.  We choose who to ostracize.  Reindeer games, all of it.  Why?  Do you want to sit back there?"
 
        "How else am I going to memorize the names of the entire class?  Unless I talk to people?"
 
        "You can ask the other person next to you!  Gina-who-has-been-listening-to-us-talk-this-whole-time.  They are running for some class leadership position.  So, as a future politician, they'll pretend to play along, even if they think memorizing everyone's name is a crazy project."  William's voice didn't lower at all at this point, so Go was positive they were right about Gina Knottswald (who'd earlier said 'present').
 
        "Is William right, Gina?"  Go asked while swivelling slightly in the chair.

        "Hi, Gogh.  Pleased to make your acquaintance,"  Gina pronounced it in Flemish like sad-eyes had done.  Go focused on nose freckles beginning to spread across cheeks as they continued with a wonderfully relaxed no-nonsense-neighbor voice, "Yes.  Mostly right.  Only I'm not running for a political office this year.  I'm running for Class Safety Officer."
 
        "Is there stiff competition for that position?"  Go asked, eagerly waiting for the reply.

        "Not really.  But that's because . . . " then their body posture changed as if they just reminded themself of the reason not much competition existed . . . others . . . could also run for election . . . but they were unaware of some key-crucial element.  "Ahh sorry.  Campaigning is not my strong suit.  You're not really interested.  Right?  You've got enough to memorize my name, don't you?"
        
        "Gina Knotswald.  Tight-lipped about safety . . . It doesn't have the hold-fast to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the other hundreds of other names I'm going to have to memorize.  Not yet.  How about if I promise not to tell anyone - including not-my-lawyer-William Lawler - and, instead, I provide campaign advice when-and-if you ask for it?"  Go could tell Gina liked the idea; especially because William 'acted hurt' when overhearing they'd be excluded.

        Gina leaned-in.  Go turned their favorite ear towards the direction of the increasing smell of spicy-sweet candy like ginger and cinnamon-breath as whispers mesmerized, *safety officer assigns and supervises the crossing guards, the color guard, and the hallway monitors.*
 
        The pause in sibilants asmr-ing was longer than one breath, as-if that was a fully-sufficient explanation, but Go wanted them to not stop, so a shirk of shoulders and a tiny pout with a shake-of-head kept them going.
 
        *crossing guards are excused from homeroom; are excused to leave fourth-period before lunch; are excused from arriving late to fifth-period; and are excused to leave seventh-period early; hallway monitors require monitoring throughout the day, the safety officer never needs a hall-pass; annnnd, the supply room near the wood-shop is where the flags and uniforms and vests and stop-signs and extra hall passes are kept.  The safety officer has a key and a desk in there.  Actually, it is where the custodial staff can take breaks, but they either don't take breaks or have a quieter place than the one next to the wood-shop.*

        Go began to tip-raise the ear and turn, while murmuring, "Gina Knottswald is . . ." But Gina encouraged returning the ear for more nearly-silent whispering.

        *Gina is short for Virginia but you know what the asshats teased me with, in middle-school.  I'm,  was, just as guilty.  I once deployed 'Bucky-Billy,' and I'm not proud that I once wore my ass for a hat, too.* 
 
        Without turning, Go said, "Whisper asshat for me one more time."
 
        *and then this asshat asked me to whiss-per asshat . . . I swear sarah's dimples send shivers down my silky soft ssanctuary near my spine.*

        "Whoa there!  Secret agent Gina Knottswald knowingly wears the safety officer's hat - great.  But, does that last part about you losing your Virginia count as part of the deal?  If it was all-that-teasable it can't still be a secret."  Gina's freckles grouped when she smiled big.  It creased her forehead and her chin. 

        Go considered becoming a color guard.  Might be nice to be invited to share a private study-hall slash lunchroom with someone who could see the invisible underpinnings and already knew what their place in it would look like.

character's in store:

 
 

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