My Second Shot

The clock went off. "Mmm..." My eyes slowly opened. What was happening? "Spencer?" "Morning, Liz," She was already sitting up, which I am NOT surprised about. That was Liz. She did not lounge or didn't ease into things. She just existed at full capacity until she decided to stop, which as far as I could tell never actually happened. The clock showed 7 A.M. Not bad for the first day of senior year, I guess. We were supposed to be applying to colleges and I had my eyes set on VIT. I know she did too, and that's what made it even better. Dating THE Elizabeth made my day. She was one of the most popular girls in school, very hot, an ace student, caption of the volleyball team, the leader of our g**g, had control over tempo. Was there, like, any way she was imperfect? And what am I? I'm just a nerdy, talkative guy, man. Sure, I like dabbling with electronics, I have control over lightning, I have good grades, great adoptive parents, but man, I literally have no friends except for her, Graham, and Conrad. "Yo, guys, we gotta go!" Graham called out. That is Graham, who has control over stone. He is physically strong, tough, and literally a man of few words. He's like the middle of me and Elizabeth, not idealistic like her, but still firm in a way. I like him. "Let's go," Liz said. "Yeah, just lemme, just get out and all, haha, so sunny today!" I put on my t-shirt and jacket, and met with Liz who had a similar attire to me, except a white jacket. "There were are!" Conrad said. "Man, we are just on time!" "Morning, Conrad. Morning, Graham! Had fun last night?" I asked. "The movie went so far, didn't it? I liked that one scene at the end!" I fell into step beside Liz as we started walking. The sun was already doing too much for this early in the morning and I squinted against it, which Conrad took as an invitation to explain at length why the angle of morning light in early autumn was actually scientifically optimal for human alertness. I caught Liz's eye. She looked at me with some dry expression, which I knew was her signature look. It was something very adjacent to a smile. I guess senior year's going to be fine. ... It was lowkey so annoying. Only fun class was like, Physics, and I guess, some part of math? Everything else was just time moving at a speed that I was fairly certain violated several laws I just learned about in Physics. But rest aside, this was boring as hell. I just wanted this school to be over with so that I could go home and talk to Liz. Or wait, I guess the only fun part of school is Liz herself. But, this time, she isn't even in any of my classes! Yes, the worst part - and I could not stress this enough - was that Liz was not in a single one of my classes. What the hell? How am I supposed to have any fun now? Looking at her was how I'd pass time back in junior year for all the boring classes, and I was kind of reliant on her for my grades. Damn, I sound like a creep now, don't I? Junior year I had gotten through AP Lang almost entirely by borrowing her notes. Different sections this year meant different books, which meant I was genuinely on my own for the first time in the history of my academic career and I did not feel good about it. "Yo, dude?" Graham tapped the table. "How'd do you do 4?" "4?" "Yeah, this one," I looked at the board. Oh, it was just a basic circular motion problem. "Well, the normal force is pointing away from the center of the circle, so it's actually working against the centripetal force, which is why it shows up negative in this problem. If it was, like, another way, like the opposite direction, then we'd add it. So, yeah," "Ohh, I got it now, thanks!" I nodded and went back to my notes. Graham was solid in a lot of ways. Physics was perhaps not the primary one, but he was in AP 1 and I was in AP C and we had somehow ended up in the same building at the same time, so I was choosing to interpret this as the universe being friendly rather than think too hard about the logistics. He was my friend and that was the part that mattered. "Where's Conrad, man?" "On his way. And before you ask, Liz is at volleyball practice," "F**k!" I slumped back. "This whole year is going to be a problem!" "Dude, c'mon, you can't be this dependent on Liz. I know you love her, but it's practically like you can't exist without her," "I'm not dependent, I'm-" I stopped. "Okay I'm a little dependent. But she wasn't in a single class, Graham. Not a single one! And our Lit sections have different books so I can't even use her notes anymore." "Oh yeah, that class is a freaking nightmare, man. Our teacher's the drill sergeant, while her teacher is the most chill guy ever." Yeah, Mr. Blake was a saint, but Mr. Carter, man... he was like, such an army general or at least, some sort of g**g member or something. He would just yell one of our names, and it was so annoying having to focus like that. I wanted Liz to be in the class so badly, but Mr. Carter might bark at me if I stared at her. "I'm sure you got this," "I just want to survive Lit," I said. "That's my only goal for the year. Everything else is secondary." "What about VIT?" "Secondary here. VIT is primary, but Lit survival is the prerequisite." "At least you'll see her outside or something?" "Yeah, I guess... but Lit's still gonna be a hurdle," ... "Sup!" "Conrad!" "No Liz?" "Volleyball practice," Graham said. "So you know how Spence is feeling," "F... how do I do this?" An idea all of a sudden popped my mind. "Hold on, this is the first day!" "Yeah, so?" "Let's go and greet Liz at practice!" "Don't you have history?" "Yeah, that's why I said it's the first day!" ... The gym was louder than I expected. I had been to maybe two volleyball games in my life and both times I had spent most of it trying to figure out the scoring system, so I was not exactly arriving with deep institutional knowledge. Okay, but Liz knows... it goes to 25 and can deuce if the point difference is one less. But the practice energy was different from games. Like, much more focused, less performative, the sound of sneakers and the ball and coaches calling out corrections filling the space in a way that felt serious. We found spots on the bleachers near the side door. Conrad went on his phone and Graham sat down, crossed his arms, and looked like a person waiting for a bus. "Which one is she?" I whispered. "The one who already saw us," Graham said flatly. He was right. As it turns out, Liz clocked us at least four seconds after we walked in. I I knew because she looked directly at me for exactly one second, then looked back at the court like we were mildly interesting weather. If I know something about that, it's clearly annoyance. As we guessed, she didn't miss a single rotation. It looks like she was what they call a "setter." She just had great timing and positioning and even scored a couple crazy spikes. "She's good at this..." "How are you dating her again?" "Bruh," "I'm just asking." "Honestly, I ask myself the same thing every day," I said. "It doesn't help to say it out loud." Graham made a sound that was technically not a laugh but very close to one. I chose to take it. Practice ran for another twenty minutes and Liz kept doing good. I was constitutionally good at forces and circular motion problems to Graham. The comparison was not flattering. I'm still surprised that was the first unit they did and so fast. When practice ended she grabbed her bag from the bench and walked over to us with the unhurried pace of someone who had already decided how this conversation was going to go. "Hi," "Hey!" Conrad offered. "Great practice." "Thank you, Conrad." She looked at me. And, I could decode the looks. "First, I saw you come in." "Second, I clocked exactly what class you skipped to be here." "Third:, I have not decided yet whether this is endearing or a problem." I had spent enough time learning where to look. "We just thought we'd-" I started with a laugh. "Which class did you skip?" "History..." Something moved across her face. "Spencer..." "It's the first day, nothing happens on the first-" "Mr. Carter teaches history." The gym got very quiet. Or maybe it didn't and it just felt that way. "Sorry?" "Your history teacher is Mr. Carter. Do you know what that means?" I stared at her. "The same Mr. Carter?" I asked slowly. "Yeah," "So... he's my lit teacher and history teacher at the same time?" I shouldn't have skimmed the schedule... I just looked at the classes and only caught eyes on my lit teacher. Who knew that Mr. Carter taught history? The full architecture of my situation assembled itself in my head in real time. Mr. Carter... I'm cooked. "Looks like I'm going to have a problem." "You were already going to have a problem," she replied. "Now you have a larger one." Conrad had the decency to look sympathetic. Graham was staring at the middle distance with the expression of someone who had seen this coming and had chosen not to say anything on the grounds that some lessons needed to be learned directly. Don't blame him. "On the bright side," Conrad offered, "we got to meet up with you! The entire g**g!" Liz looked at him, then back at me. "He's not wrong," I said weakly. She picked up her bag, then looked at me. "Next time just text me." I smiled as she walked toward the exit. Graham stood up. "You're going to get destroyed tomorrow," "I know." "Worth it?" I watched Liz push open the side door, her white jacket catching the light for a second before she looked back at me, and gave me a wave. "Yeah," I said. "Completely." ... School let out at three-ten and I found her by the gym exit, which made sense given that practice had only ended about ten minutes before the final bell. She was now in her casual clothes, bag over one shoulder, looking at her phone with the focused expression she gave most things. "Hey, Liz," I said. "Hey." She pocketed her phone and we started walking without discussing which way. Because, well, we both knew which way. "So," I said. "Turns out, school just ended," She looked at me. "You haven't had to face him yet." "No, that's tomorrow. But I've had all afternoon to think about it." "And?" "And I'm fairly certain he already knows. I don't know how, but I think he knows. Teachers like that always know." "Probably keeps attendance records from day one," she said. "So yes. He knows." "Hey, you can't go from probability to affirmative!" "You know what I'm saying..." I absorbed this. "Yeah...." "You did it to yourself." "I'm aware of that." "I told you." "You did tell me," I agreed. "You were very clear. I have no complaints about the quality of the warning." She gave me the look. Not the fully annoyed one, but... I guess, just a look? We turned onto the longer route without deciding to, which happened sometimes. It added about twelve minutes and neither of us mentioned it. "How was the rest of practice?" I asked. "Good. But the back row rotation needs work before regionals. Their receiving is subpar right now," "Is that fixable?" "Everything is fixable if people listen." "And I assume people listen?" "Yeah, I'm the captain," Right... she's the captain. Why wouldn't she be? We walked past the corner store where the guy outside always had the radio going too loud, some afternoon talk show bleeding into the street. I walked this route enough times that it showed its own texture = the cracked pavement outside the pharmacy, the tree on Ellison that had grown sideways around a fence post like it had made a decision early on and committed fully to it. "VIT sent me something," I said. "About the engineering program. A bunch of deadlines, requirements." "I got it too," "A lot, huh?" "It's supposed to be a lot." "I know. I just - when I think about it in the abstract it makes sense. Good school, good program, it's a plan. But then I actually look at the application and it gets very concrete very fast." "It's supposed to be that way," "I'm aware." "Yeah, you're aware in theory. But, you freak out when they become real." I opened my mouth. Closed it. "That's - okay. That's a fair characterization." "It is," "You're so certain, damn..." So you want me to be less certain?" "I'd prefer you were occasionally wrong about things." She tapped her thumb against her chin. "Hmm... I thought the movie last week was going to be better than it was, but it was mid," "I'm sure everyone thought that." "Then everyone was wrong. And I'm part of everyone." I laughed. She didn't, exactly, but the quality of her silence shifted into something warmer and I learned to read that too. We reached the point where our routes split. We slowed without stopping. It's like when a conversation isn't quite finished but the geography is forcing the issue. "Write the personal statement tonight," she said. "I was going to do it tomorrow-" "Tonight." "Liz-" "Tonight." She looked at me steadily. "You'll feel better once it's started. Trust me," "What if it's bad?" "First drafts are bad, but that's what they're for." I looked at her. Once again, I had to remind myself that she was completely out of my league in ways I had stopped trying to account for. I wonder how she even agreed to date me? "Okay," I said. "Text me when you're done." She turned and walked her way. I stood there for a second. Then I went home to write the worst first draft that had ever been committed to a document, and I texted her when I was done. To my shock and somehow not shock, she responded with a heart emoji. Man, I don't understand her but I love her. Some things just worked like that.