Something Different - Sam

The weekend had slipped by in a blur of routines: football drills under the late autumn sun, swim team laps in the cold embrace of chlorinated water, and the occasional retreat into video games when the chaos at home became too much. Being an only child, there weren't siblings to distract me or make things more interesting for that matter, so I did what I could to fill the gaps.

Venturing into the lounge meant subjecting myself to one of my dad's documentaries about historical battles or some over-the-top reality TV show my mom loved. Worse, it usually came with a side of nagging: my dad complaining about how I sat on the sofa "Don't slouch, you'll ruin the cushions" or scolding me for forgetting to put a coaster under my glass.

Dad's OCD wasn't subtle and it made relaxing difficult, every surface gleamed like a showroom display, and he had a radar for anything out of place. My mom somehow put up with it, but I always felt more at ease away from him.

I actually really like baking but that had long since been banned in the house ever since Grandma passed away, she was the only one allowed to make a mess in the kitchen, usually ignoring my dad and putting him in his place, but now that voice had gone.

The only space where the rules relaxed even a little was my room, though even that wasn't sacred. Once a week, he'd swoop in like a tornado with white gloves, inspecting every inch and handing me a list of things I'd done wrong. A shirt folded "wrong." A hoodie on the wrong shelf. Stuff that felt meaningless but mattered to him.

Not that I didn't push back in small ways. As I lounged in my room Sunday afternoon, Mario Kart controller in one hand and a soda can on the table without a coaster, a grin tugged at my lips. It was petty, but it made me feel like I'd won a tiny battle.

It was a regular weekend in every sense of the word although Saturday's football match didn't go as well as it should've. I'd been off my game—too slow on the field, too unfocused to lead. Later, I swam laps at practice, but even there, I was ten seconds slower than usual. My coach said I was fine, but I could tell something was off. My body wasn't tired; my head just wasn't in it.

And now, Monday morning, standing at my locker and stuffing my bag with books I probably wouldn't open, I realized what it was. My mind wasn't on football. Or swimming. Or school.

It was on Jay.

It didn't make sense. All we'd done was hang out, play Mario Kart, and laugh about stupid things. But I couldn't shake the memory of it—the way it felt so easy. The way I'd laughed harder than I had in weeks. But that didn't mean anything, right? Jay was just... easy to be around. That's all.

It reminded me a little of how Kyle and I had clicked when we were younger. One summer, we'd been inseparable, spending entire days biking around town or playing video games until our eyes burned. But things had changed as we got older. Kyle's humour had gotten darker, and he had a way of making everything into a joke, even stuff that wasn't funny. He was louder now, too—always cracking jokes at someone else's expense. We didn't hang out like we used to; it was mostly football or swim meets now.

Maybe that's why hanging out with Jay had been so much fun. It wasn't about being on a team or competing for something. It was just... good.

The hallways buzzed with the usual Monday chaos. Lockers slammed shut, a cacophony of steel against steel. Students yelled across the hall, their voices tangling into an indistinct hum. The air carried a mix of smells: old textbooks, gym clothes, and someone's fruity body spray. Somewhere down the corridor, a teacher barked for a student to tuck in their shirt, their tone sharp against the din.

"Sam!"

Brad's booming voice cut through the noise, impossible to miss. I turned to see him barrelling toward me, his horns catching the fluorescent light like polished steel. Kyle and Ben followed close behind. Kyle juggled a football with practiced ease, while Ben flicked a coin between his fingers, his focus split between us and the spinning metal.

"Morning, loser," Brad greeted, clapping me on the shoulder with enough force to make me stumble forward.

I smirked, adjusting my bag. "You know it's way too early for this, right?"

"Nah, it's never too early for greatness," Brad said, puffing out his chest like he was delivering a motivational speech.

Kyle snorted, his grin devilish. "Unless it's too early for Sam to wake up. Bet he was up all-night bingeing rom coms after his date with Jay."

Ben raised an eyebrow at that but didn't comment, his attention still mostly on the coin flipping effortlessly between his fingers.

I rolled my eyes, keeping my expression neutral even though my stomach tightened at the mention of Jay, of course I'd told the guys about hanging out with him and how cool it was, they just didn't seem to have the same enthusiasm about it as I did, "Yeah, that's me. Total sucker for slow dances and dramatic kisses in the rain."

Kyle's grin widened. "So it was a date."

"No, idiot," I shot back, slinging my bag over one shoulder. "We had an assignment to do for Mr. Moon. You know, math? That thing you barely passed last term?"

The group snickered, but the teasing didn't faze me. Everyone at school knew about Jay. Word had spread like wildfire earlier in the year—faster than I'd even learned his name. "That's the gay kid," someone had said, pointing him out like he was some kind of curiosity.

I hadn't thought much of it then. But now? Now, I couldn't stop thinking about him.

He'd seemed nice enough the first time I met him in math class. I hadn't thought much of it at the time—just another face among the crowd. The guys were already teasing me about inviting him over, though I couldn't really understand why. Jay was just... a guy. Actually, he was pretty funny when you got him talking. I didn't get what their issue was. Then again, I'd learned to keep my head down and not get sucked into the endless drama swirling around campus.

Still, their jabs stuck with me more than they should have. Not in a way that made me angry, just... annoyed. Like, why did it matter? Brad, thankfully, didn't linger on the topic long. He launched into his usual post-game analysis of Saturday's match, arms flailing as he reenacted every "epic" moment.

"And then—bam!—I'm outmanoeuvring the whole defence," Brad said, gesturing wildly as if the hallway were the field.

Kyle snorted, spinning the football between his hands. "Yeah, right. Pretty sure you tripped over your own hooves in the first half."

Brad shot him a glare. "I didn't trip. I strategically evaded."

Ben chuckled under his breath, his voice low but sharp. "Strategically ate turf, you mean."

The group burst out laughing, Brad included, though his laugh carried a tinge of sheepishness. I nodded along, laughing at all the right moments, but my mind wasn't fully in it. It kept drifting back to Jay.

The thing was, the jokes my friends were making lately just didn't hit the same way anymore. They were harmless, I guess—just the usual "guy stuff." But sometimes it felt like everything with them was a competition. Who could crack the funniest insult? Who could one-up the other? With Jay, it wasn't like that. It was... easy.

"Hey," Kyle said, his voice cutting through my thoughts, "we still doing the cinema on Saturday after football?" He wasn't really asking anyone specific, just throwing the question into the group.

"Sure thing," Brad replied, grinning.

I nodded with a smile. "Yeah, I'm in."

It had been ages since we'd hung out outside of football. Most of the time, someone's schedule got in the way—practice, homework, whatever. But the swim meet was cancelled this weekend because of maintenance at the pool, which left us with a rare, free Saturday afternoon.

Honestly, I was looking forward to it. Maybe hanging out was exactly what we needed. Things had felt a bit off with the guys lately—like we were still a team, but not as tight as we used to be. I figured some downtime could help us reconnect. Maybe that's what I'd been missing. Maybe that's why Friday had felt so good with Jay.

Math class came right after lunch, by which point the sun had shifted enough to cast long slats of light across the room. The classroom smelled faintly of cleaning solution, with just a hint of whatever someone had reheated in the teachers' lounge. The hum of the overhead lights buzzed softly, blending with the faint murmur of students settling into their seats.

When I walked in, Jay was already there. He was sitting by the window, his hood pulled up like usual. He was hunched over his notebook, pen in hand, though he wasn't actually writing. Just doodling shapes in the margins. The sunlight streaming through the window caught on the edges of his fur, making it seem softer, almost glowing.

I glanced at Mr. Moon, who was watching me with a raised eyebrow. His expression was the same mix of patience and exasperation I got every time I barely made it on time. To his credit, I was technically on time. Maybe not early enough to avoid his scrutiny, but still.

I gave him a quick wave and made my way to my seat, sliding into my chair, I leaned back, dropping my bag onto the floor. "See, Mr. Moon? Right on time."

Mr. Moon didn't say anything, just glanced at the clock with a knowing look before turning back to the whiteboard. He started scribbling something about quadratic equations, but I barely noticed. My attention had shifted again, drifting back toward Jay.

I didn't say anything at first. I just watched as his pen moved in lazy circles, sketching patterns that didn't seem to have a particular purpose. It was oddly mesmerizing, the way his hand moved fluidly, almost like he wasn't thinking about it.

"You're early," Jay said suddenly, his voice soft but teasing.

I blinked, caught off guard. "What can I say? I like to keep people guessing."

Jay smirked but didn't look up, his pen still gliding over the page. "Guessing if you'll actually show up on time, you mean?"

I laughed, leaning forward. "Hey, I made it, didn't I?"

He finally glanced up, his eyes catching mine for just a second before flicking back to his notebook. There was something about the way he smiled—not a big grin, just a small, quiet curve of his lips.

Mr. Moon's voice pulled me back to reality, his tone sharp as he called for everyone's attention. I straightened in my seat, pulling out my notebook, but my thoughts stayed tangled in the moment. In the way Jay's eyes lingered just a little too long, and in the way I couldn't stop wondering what he was thinking.

"How was the rest of your weekend?" I asked casually, pulling my textbook out of my bag even though I knew it'd sit untouched for the next hour.

"It was fine," he replied with a small shrug, not looking up from his notebook. "Nothing special."

I leaned back in my chair, turning to face him as I tried to read his expression. "You didn't spend the whole weekend practicing Mario Kart just to humiliate me again?"

That earned a reaction. His lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile. "No," he said. "I didn't practice any sabotage moves either."

I laughed, and the sound echoed between us, breaking through the otherwise dull murmur of students settling into their seats. His ears twitched slightly at the sound, a subtle movement that I wouldn't have noticed if I hadn't been watching him so closely. "Good. I don't think my ego could handle another crushing defeat like that."

He looked down at his notebook, a soft smile lingering on his face even as he pretended to refocus on whatever he'd been doodling. It wasn't much, but it felt like a win, pulling that tiny reaction out of him.

Mr. Moon started the lesson, his voice monotone as he launched into another lecture on quadratic equations. I made an effort to look attentive, but my focus kept slipping. My eyes drifted back to Jay.

He didn't look like anyone special—not in the loud, commanding way Brad or Kyle did. Where they thrived on attention, Jay seemed content to fade into the background. His presence was quieter, like a soft hum instead of a blaring horn. But there was something about him, something that made it hard to look away.

I caught myself staring and quickly turned back to my notebook, annoyed with myself. He was just a friend. A quiet, funny, ridiculously good-at-Mario-Kart friend. That's all.

And yet... it felt different. I wanted to spend more time with him. I wanted to laugh like we had on Friday, and I wanted to see if I could make him smile again. The thought nagged at me as the minutes dragged on, and I found myself wondering if maybe he'd want to come to the cinema with us this weekend. If the others got to know him, maybe they'd like him as much as I did.

The lesson seemed to stretch endlessly, the dull rhythm of Mr. Moon's voice blending with the steady tap of my pencil against my notebook. The tapping matched the restless thoughts bouncing around in my head. I kept glancing sideways at Jay, who was still scribbling in the margins of his notebook, completely absorbed in whatever he was drawing.

I wanted to talk to him. Not just the surface-level stuff about weekends and video games, but something real. I wanted to hear him laugh again, to see that spark of humour in his eyes.

"Hey," I whispered, leaning toward him.

Jay glanced at me, his pen pausing mid-doodle. His expression was curious but cautious, like he wasn't sure what I was about to say.

"Do you, uh, like movies?" I asked, keeping my voice low so Mr. Moon wouldn't catch me.

Jay blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question. "I guess," he said slowly. "Why?"

"There's this new action movie coming out," I said, trying to sound casual. "My friends and I are going this weekend. You should come."

Jay hesitated, his pen tapping lightly against his other paw. "With... your friends?" he asked, his voice quieter now.

"Yeah," I said quickly, then added, "But mostly with me."

The words slipped out before I could think them through, and for a second, I regretted it. Why had I said it like that? Maybe because I wanted him to know it wasn't about Brad or Kyle or anyone else. I wanted him there.

Jay's ears twitched slightly, and he looked down at his notebook again. I watched as his fingers tightened briefly around the pen. For a moment, I was sure he was going to say no.

But then he nodded. "Okay," he said, shifting slightly in his seat like he was adjusting to the idea.

"Yeah?" I asked, my voice rising just a little.

"Yeah," he repeated, glancing at me briefly before returning to his doodling.

I grinned, leaning back in my chair and trying to play it cool. "Great. It'll be fun. I promise."

Jay didn't say anything, but there was that small smile again, barely there but unmistakable. He didn't need to say anything else.

For the rest of the lesson, I didn't hear a single word Mr. Moon said. The equations on the board blurred together as my mind wandered, replaying the moment over and over. All I could think about was the weekend—and the strange, unfamiliar warmth that had settled in my chest, one I couldn't quite understand but didn't want to let go of.