An unexpected assignment - Jay

The weekend seemed to fly by way too quickly, as if someone had hit the fast-forward button on my life. Saturday morning was spent washing my mom's car, scrubbing the dried dirt and grime off the paintwork, and rinsing the suds away until the surface gleamed under the late autumn sun. Then came the inside—hoovering out every single crevice, from the tiny gaps between the seats to the awkward corners of the floor mats. It was tedious work, but I didn't mind. There was something calming about the repetitive motions, the whir of the vacuum drowning out my thoughts. By the time I finished, I felt a mix of accomplishment and relief, knowing I'd earned myself some precious pocket money.

Sunday was another productive day. I spent the afternoon helping my mom tidy up the garden, gathering leaves into neat piles and trimming the bushes that had grown wild. She worked full-time during the week, so weekends were her chance to catch up on household chores. I tried to pitch in wherever I could, not just because it usually ended with me getting paid, but because I knew how much she appreciated the help. Ever since Dad passed away when I was young, things had been harder for her. But we made it work—just the two of us.

Even though she never asked, I could tell she felt the weight of doing it all alone, so I tried to ease her burden whenever possible. I was grateful for everything she did to support me through college, and I wanted to do more to contribute financially. The problem was, I hadn't quite figured out how to make that happen yet. A part-time job was a possibility, but balancing work, classes, and spending time with my friends felt like a daunting prospect. Still, the thought lingered in the back of my mind, a nagging reminder that I needed to step up.

The highlight of my weekend, though, came unexpectedly on Sunday evening. As I was lounging on the couch, scrolling through my phone, a notification popped up on Instagram:

Sam Rivers followed you.

My heart skipped a beat. For a moment, I stared at the screen, almost expecting it to disappear as if it were some kind of mistake. Why would Sam follow me? Maybe he'd clicked it by accident. After all, my profile wasn't exactly exciting. It was filled with random photos of my friends and me—mostly silly snapshots from hangouts and parties.

The most recent posts were from Friday's movie night at my house, where everyone had been tagging me in group photos. Some of the comments were playful, while others were downright annoying. A few people at school had joked that because Eli and I were both gay, we must be dating. It wasn't the first time I'd heard that, and it wouldn't be the last. I rolled my eyes and scrolled past the comments. Just because Eli and I shared the same sexuality didn't mean we liked each other that way. It was like when a boy and girl were close friends—people didn't always jump to conclusions about them. Look at Alex and Tara, for instance. They'd been inseparable for years, but no one ever assumed there was anything romantic between them. Why couldn't Eli and I get the same treatment?

Anyway, those comments didn't matter. What mattered was Sam. Why had he followed me? I couldn't shake the question, and the more I thought about it, the more curious I became. Maybe I'd find an opportunity to ask him about it during math class tomorrow.

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Normally, I dreaded math on Mondays—it was hard enough without having to face another session on Thursday—but today was different. For once, I was looking forward to it, and the reason was Sam.

As I walked down the crowded college hallway, my sneakers squeaked against the polished tiles, the sound barely audible over the hum of student chatter. The air buzzed with energy: groups of friends laughing and talking, the occasional shout from someone across the hall, and the steady rhythm of footsteps echoing off the walls. It was the typical Monday chaos, a mix of rushed conversations and stressed-out students clutching coffee cups like lifelines.

I had always felt at ease in the academic hustle, despite the occasional bullying that came with it. Today, however, was different. There was a subtle tension in the pit of my stomach, a nervous anticipation that made the day feel heavier than usual. Maybe it was the looming assignment from Mr. Moon, our math teacher, or the fact that my morning classes had been uneventful, leaving me with too much time to think. My friends were all in different programs or had different schedules, so I'd been navigating the day alone, which only added to the weight.

As I approached the math department, weaving through the sea of students, my eyes landed on a familiar figure. Sam.

He wasn't hard to spot. His bright orange skin seemed to glow under the fluorescent lights, and his athletic build made him stand out even in a crowd. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with a confident swagger that seemed effortless. His dorsal fin poked out from the back of his hoodie, swaying slightly with each step, and his whole demeanour radiated charisma. Sam carried himself like someone who knew exactly who he was and where he was going—a stark contrast to me, who often felt like I was stumbling my way through life.

I'd seen him around campus plenty of times before, usually surrounded by his teammates, cracking jokes and making casual conversation. He was always in motion, always at the centre of something. I, on the other paw, was quieter, more of an observer. We didn't run in the same circles, but there was something about him that fascinated me—his energy, his confidence, his ability to command attention without even trying.

As Sam walked with his friends, Ben and Leo, I found myself watching them, unable to look away. They moved with an ease that seemed almost foreign to me, their laughter blending with the background noise of the hallway. For a moment, I wondered what it would be like to be part of that world—a world where everything seemed so effortless, so fast-paced, so alive.

Lost in thought, I nearly bumped into him. My heart leapt into my throat as Sam turned his head at the last second. Our eyes met, and time seemed to slow down.

"Oh, hey," Sam said, his voice smooth and deep, carrying that easy, inviting tone he always seemed to have. "You good?"

For a second, I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. I wasn't sure how to respond, caught off guard by the sudden interaction. Sam had never spoken to me like this before, and the casualness of his words left me momentarily stunned.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," I stammer, the words tumbling out too quickly as I tried to sound casual. My voice betrayed me, though, shaky and uneven, and I could feel the warmth creeping up my neck. My hand adjusted the strap of my backpack as if the motion might ground me, but it did nothing to calm the nervous energy buzzing in my chest.

I caught a glimpse of Ben's eyes narrowing at me, his scowl sharp enough to cut through the already tense moment. He looked at me like I had no right to even be breathing the same air as Sam, let alone talking to him.

"Just, uh, walking to class," I managed to say, quieter now, the memory of my last encounter with Ben in the hallway flashing through my mind. That time, I'd made the mistake of saying 'hey,' and his reaction had been icy at best—a glare, a grunt, and an unmistakable air of disdain dismissing he ever knew me.

Sam, however, didn't seem bothered in the slightest. He gave me one of his crooked smiles, the kind that showed just enough of his sharp teeth to be a little intimidating, but his expression was so warm and easy-going that it erased any hint of menace. "Me too," he said, gesturing toward Ben and Leo with a tilt of his head. "Just gotta see Coach with these two, but I'll see you in math!"

I nodded, caught off guard by how effortlessly he included me in the conversation. "What are you talking to him for?" Ben muttered, his voice dripping with disdain. His glare lingered on me, and I had to fight the urge to shrink under his scrutiny.

I missed whatever Sam said in response, if he had a response at all I didn't hear it as they continued down the hallway, their voices fading into the background. My stomach did that strange fluttering thing it always did when something unexpected—or maybe a little exciting—happened. It was such a brief interaction, and yet, for some reason, it stuck with me. Sam had acknowledged me. He'd smiled at me. And for the life of me, I couldn't figure out why that made my chest tighten the way it did.

Maybe it wasn't Sam at all. Maybe I was just angry at Ben, who couldn't even pretend to be civil like any interaction would have given the game away that we kissed, meanwhile Sam had shown how perfectly normal it was to exchange a few words in the hallway.

Get a grip, I told myself. It was just a hallway encounter. No big deal. But no matter how much I tried to downplay it, the memory of Sam's smile lingered in my mind as I made my way to math class.

The hallways seemed to blur as I walked, my thoughts stuck on the way Sam had looked at me, like I wasn't invisible. By the time I reached the math classroom, I had to shake my head to snap myself out of it. It wasn't like I could let this tiny moment derail my whole day.

Inside, the classroom was already bustling with activity. Students were settling into their usual seats, chatting and unpacking their books and supplies. Mr. Moon stood at the front of the room, flipping through a stack of papers that I assumed were today's assignment handouts. His brow was furrowed in concentration, the lines on his face deepened by the fluorescent light overhead.

I slid into my usual seat by the window, pulling out my notebook and pen. The familiar motions of organizing my desk felt grounding, a welcome distraction from the thoughts swirling in my head. Mr. Moon had begun handing out the papers and was already explaining the first question on the whiteboard.

Maybe Sam wasn't going to turn up after all. That thought brought a strange mix of relief and disappointment. I tried to focus on copying down the problem from the board, making sure my notes were legible and thorough. If I couldn't control the chaos in my head, at least I could control the neatness of my notebook.

Then the door creaked open.

"Sorry, I'm late," it was that same deep, familiar voice. "Had to see Coach again."

My head snapped up instinctively, and there he was—Sam, standing in the doorway with his signature lopsided grin. My heart skipped a beat, and I had to remind myself to breathe.

Mr. Moon sighed heavily, clearly unimpressed. "Take a seat, Sam. I'm just glad you made it. I'll be having words with your coach—this can't keep happening."

Sam flashed a wide, unapologetic smile. "Sure."

As Mr. Moon turned back to the board, muttering something under his breath, Sam scanned the room. For a brief moment, his eyes met mine, and my stomach did another one of those traitorous flips. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he walked over and plopped down in the empty seat next to me.

"Hey," Sam said casually as he unpacked his things. His large frame seemed to take up more space than usual in the small desk, his presence overwhelming in a way I couldn't quite describe. "I brought my own pen this time."

I glanced at the pen in his hand, my eyes narrowing slightly. It looked suspiciously like the one I'd lent him last week. My mind raced as I scrutinized it, trying to confirm whether it was the same pen.

"Okay, okay," Sam said with a grin, holding the pen just out of my reach as if I'd tried to grab it. "I just need it for today, then you can have it back."

"Yeah, uh... okay," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I tried to sound nonchalant, but my heart was pounding so loudly in my chest that I was sure he could hear it.

Sam leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs slightly under the desk. "Had to deal with Coach again. One day, I'll actually get to class on time. You know how it is."

I let out a nervous chuckle, tapping my pen against the desk to give my hands something to do. "Yeah, I get it," I said, though the truth was, I didn't get it at all. I had no idea what it was like to juggle sports and school, but something about the way Sam said it—so casual, so unbothered—made me wish I could understand.

And as the class went on, with Sam sitting close enough that our elbows almost brushed, I couldn't help but wonder what it would take to be a bigger part of his world, to belong in a place and have the presence he had in the room.

We fell into a somewhat awkward silence, only broken by the scratch of pencils and the low murmur of students chatting. I couldn't help but steal glances at Sam out of the corner of my eye, how was it that Sam was so comfortable in his own skin, as if being in a room full of people was second nature to him, how he just brushed off Mr Moons sighs and frustrations, but for all of Sam's athletic confidence, there was something almost gentle in the way he carried himself. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, maybe that's why he was so popular.

The class itself was predictable. Mr. Moon was lecturing on the current topic—trigonometric identities—and although I was used to the material, my attention kept wandering. Every so often, I would glance at Sam, who was taking notes quickly, his paw moving with smooth precision. The sunlight from the window casting a golden glow on Sam's orange skin, making him look almost like a creature from a dream.

Finally, toward the end of the lecture, Mr. Moon made an announcement that made my stomach drop.

"Alright, class," Mr. Moon said, his voice suddenly turning serious. "I've got a special assignment for you all today, in your pairs you'll work together on this week's project. It'll be a study group assignment, where you'll explain certain concepts to each other and present a solution to a simple question of business economics. The goal is to learn from each other, not just solve, which is why I want you working in pairs, but in any case, its due next Monday"

The room was filled with a chorus of groans, but I only half-listened, Math was a black and white topic I wasn't sure how working in pairs exactly would work, it certainly wasn't the norm for Math at all, but Mr. Moon's next words caught me off guard.

"I expect one out of school hours study session, you'll certainly need it in addition to Thursday's lesson to ensure you have a fully worked out solution, and I'll be comparing your workings out to ensure you haven't just worked alone!"

I froze as Sam turned his head to look at me, his gaze a little more direct now.

"You can use the library after school I expect, or I'm sure google will help you if you can't make it to the library, but you must work together on this" Mr Moon added

"I have shed loads of practices this week" Sam said with a sigh, almost like he hadn't expected this additional work, "I can't do the library afterschool, and it will be closed by time practice is over"

"it's ok" I say knowing how the reality of my previous study groups had gone down, this was going to be no different, I'd end up doing all the work and then we'd have to convince Mr Moon we'd somehow done it together.

I looked to the sheet Mr Moon handed out, the project was creating a business plan for a Theme Park based on some market data and detailed statistics attached to it, the overall question; what is the expected payback time on the opening business loan, and if the park would be profitable.

It would be simple enough, even though it would need some working out taking the visitor forecast and setting the entry prices etc, all questions Mr Moon could easily ask Sam and if he didn't know the answer we would be screwed.

"You could just come over to mine on Friday, I get back from the swim meet at 6, so that should give us plenty of time, right?"

The words made sense I just hadn't expected them, I nodded, a little too quickly, was he asking me to hang out? I hoped I didn't seem too eager. "Yeah, sure. I'm fine with that." I tried to sound as non-committal as possible, but I wasn't sure my voice understood the instructions, it was more an excited bleat of words and probably sounded as dumb as anything.

"Great," Sam said, gathering up his things. "Ok Friday, maybe we can grab Pizza too, here's my address" Sam scribbled his address down on a piece of torn paper handing it to me

My heart skipped a beat, Pizza? Or was it just part of the assignment? Either way, the idea of spending more time with Sam, even if it was just working together on an assignment, was both exciting and nerve-wracking.

"Sounds good," I managed to say, trying to keep my voice steady with a little more success than earlier

As the bell rang and students began to filter out, I grabbed my stuff, my mind still buzzing from the unexpected turn of events. Sam was already at the door, and he paused momentarily waiting for me, perhaps he had changed his mind.

"I should probably get your number in case your late, or if we need to talk about the assignment in the meantime," Sam said with a grin, handing his phone over with the new contact up on display ready for me to fill in.

Had I seriously just got access to his phone number, and we were what? Friends?