The First Boy I Know

CHAPTER 4: THE NEW BOY

By Thursday morning, I had convinced myself that things were finally settling down.

Not that anything had actually changed.

Nikolai is still dating Vivienne. I am still hopelessly in love with him. Life was still following the same pattern it had for years.

It wasn’t ideal, but it was familiar.

And sometimes familiar felt safer than hope.

I am halfway through reviewing my history notes when Mrs. Harper walked into homeroom carrying a clipboard. A strange smile tugged at the corners of her mouth, and immediately the room grew quieter.

Teachers only wore that expression when they had an announcement.

Most of the time it was something disappointing, like a fundraiser or a reminder about school policies.

Apparently, this wasn’t one of those times.

“Before we begin,” Mrs. Harper said, placing her clipboard on the desk, “I’d like everyone to welcome a new student.”

The room instantly came alive.

Several students sat up straighter. Whispered conversations spread through the classroom. Someone near the back actually cheered.

I looked toward the door just as it opened.

A boy stepped inside.

He was tall, with dark hair that brushed his forehead and warm brown eyes that seemed to take in everything at once. Unlike most transfer students, he didn’t appear nervous. There was no awkward shuffling or forced smile. Instead, he looked calm, almost curious, as his gaze swept across the room.

Mrs. Harper gestured toward him.

“This is Iñigo Flores. He recently transferred here from California.”

A few whispers immediately followed the announcement.

California.

That alone was enough to make half the class interested.

Mrs. Harper smiled. “Why don’t you tell everyone a little about yourself?”

Iñigo nodded politely.

“There’s not much to tell,” he admitted. “My mom’s American, and my dad’s Filipino. We moved here because of my dad’s work. I like basketball, I hate math, and I’m already lost trying to find my classes.”

Laughter rippled through the room.

Even Mrs. Harper smiled.

“Well, at least you’re honest.”

“That’s what my dad says before every bad decision.”

The laughter grew louder.

I found myself smiling too.

Not because he was particularly funny, but because he seemed comfortable being himself.

Mrs. Harper glanced around the classroom.

“Let’s see where we can put you.”

My attention returned to my notebook.

Surely there were plenty of empty seats.

Unfortunately, fate seemed determined to make my life interesting.

“There’s one beside Amielle.”

I froze.

A few students turned toward me immediately.

Wonderful.

I slowly looked up just as Iñigo followed everyone’s gaze. For a brief moment, our eyes met. Then he smiled politely and walked toward the empty desk beside mine.

The chair scraped against the floor as he sat down.

“Hi,” he said.

His voice was deeper than I expected.

“Hi.”

“I’m Iñigo.”

I glanced at him.

“Pretty sure everyone knows that now.”

A small grin appeared on his face.

“Good point.”

Mrs. Harper began the lesson before the conversation could continue, which suited me just fine. New people usually made me nervous. Not because I disliked them, but because I never knew what version of myself they were meeting.

The quiet girl who always sat near the front?

The Filipino-American girl who spent weekends helping her grandmother cook enough food to feed an entire neighborhood?

Or the girl secretly in love with her best friend?

That last one tended to stay hidden.

The rest of the morning passed quickly, but every now and then I caught Iñigo scribbling notes in the margins of his notebook or glancing around the classroom as though he were still figuring everyone out.

He seemed observant.

The kind of person who paid attention.

For some reason, that made me slightly nervous.

When the bell finally rang, students immediately poured into the hallway. I was stuffing books into my backpack when Iñigo spoke again.

“So, how long before I stop getting lost?”

I looked up.

“Depends.”

“On?”

“How good your sense of direction is.”

He sighed dramatically.

“I’m doomed.”

I laughed before I could stop myself.

For a second, surprise crossed his face.

Then he smiled.

Apparently that answer had been the correct one.

As we stepped into the crowded hallway, I immediately spotted a familiar head of blond hair near the lockers.

Nikolai.

Somehow, no matter how many people surrounded us, I could always find him.

He was leaning against a locker with Vivienne beside him, listening to her talk about something animatedly while he watched her with that soft expression he only seemed to have around her.

The sight created the same ache it always did.

Not sharp enough to ruin my day.

Just enough to remind me.

Nikolai noticed me a second later.

His face brightened immediately.

There was something comforting about that. No matter how complicated my feelings became, he still looked happy whenever he saw me.

“Ami!”

I rolled my eyes.

Only Nikolai still used the nickname he’d given me when we were eight.

He pushed away from the locker and walked over.

“You’re late.”

“It’s eight thirty in the morning.”

“So?”

“So that’s not late.”

“It is for you.”

Before I could argue, his attention shifted to the person beside me.

“Oh. New guy.”

“Iñigo,” I corrected.

The two boys exchanged a quick handshake.

“Nikolai.”

“Iñigo.”

Neither seemed intimidated by the other, which was refreshing. High school boys occasionally treated introductions like territorial disputes.

“You surviving?” Nikolai asked him.

“Barely.”

“Good answer.”

Iñigo looked at me.

“Is he always like this?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Good to know.”

Nikolai looked offended.

“Wow.”

For the first time all morning, I laughed without thinking.

The sound surprised even me.

Maybe because it felt genuine.

Maybe because for a few minutes I wasn’t thinking about impossible feelings or heartbreak or all the things I couldn’t have.

For a few minutes, it was just another school day.

At the time, I didn’t realize that meeting Iñigo Flores would become one of the most important moments of my life.

If someone had told me then that this quiet transfer student would eventually change everything, I would’ve laughed.

Then again, the biggest changes rarely announced themselves.

Sometimes they simply walked into your classroom one Thursday morning and took the empty seat beside you.