14. i prefer succulents

FOURTEEN

i prefer succulents

Monday, March 17th

Isaiah couldn't remember the last time he'd felt completely and utterly happy. He hadn't felt that way in a long time, it seemed. Hadn't felt that warm giddiness that would consume him as a child whenever he got to do something he liked. Baseball had been his source of happiness for a long time, but it never gave him the childlike joy he so dearly missed.

He'd been in good moods, sure. He'd been amused, excited, content, but never genuinely happy ever since he'd entered the pre-teen years of his life. Isaiah grew to adore things and people, but he couldn't remember a moment where he thought, I could do this forever and never get tired. Or I could be with this person forever and never feel down.

He wondered if those feelings were real, or if they were just false fantasies created by movies and books. He hoped they weren't, because if that was the case, he wouldn't know what to look forward to. If his baseball career didn't leave him happy, what was the point? It was the only thing pushing him down the line.

Isaiah paused. When did I start feeling like this? He couldn't pinpoint an exact moment in time where he started to feel so dreadfully hopeless. It scared him, sent a shock of fear straight through his veins, made him wonder if anyone noticed these changes in him when he couldn't even notice them himself.

Is anyone watching me?

He stared at his ceiling, watching the fan spin in rapid circles. He'd woken up much earlier than he usually did, and he debated on whether or not to get a bit more sleep, but had decided against it. He doubted he could sleep again; his mind was stocked up.

Isaiah woke up in a not-so-great mood, if that wasn't obvious already. He had a feeling it was because he spent all night worrying about August after he dropped him off at home. He'd looked so sad. Seeing someone he liked like that affected him, too. He wanted to know how he was doing, but he didn't want to be a bother. He probably wasn't even awake anyway.

He flipped over onto his side and tapped his phone screen, the blue light straining his eyes. He blinked rapidly and hurriedly turned the brightness down. I want to text him, he thought. What if he didn't want Isaiah to point it out? What if he was embarrassed? But he talked about something personal yesterday, too.

Isaiah simply decided to stop being a wuss.

Isaiah: I hope you slept well, and I hope you're feeling better. It looked like yesterday was tough for you. if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm here too

And it seemed Isaiah was wrong about him not being awake, because within less than two minutes he replied.

August: I'm better, thank u. sorry for being all rude and sad and just blegh lately. seriously - ur too nice to me lol i don't deserve it

Isaiah: hey don't say that. ): you're a good person you deserve all the nice things that happen to you

August: haha i'm not but thanks. i'm a shit person lol

Isaiah: say it again and I'll fight

August: what are u gonna do, noodle boy? swing ur obnoxiously long arms around like a helicopter and attack me?

Isaiah: I -

August: that's right, noodle boy

Isaiah: at least I'm not 5'7 smh, mouse boy

August: us short boys are kings. don't be jealous, giraffe boy

Isaiah smiled and bit at his bottom lip, finding his bad mood slowly melting away as he and August continued to bicker back and forth. They did it for a while until Isaiah noticed the time and told him he was going to get ready. August sent a thumbs up emoji and said he was doing the same.

He hadn't made a new friend in a long time, he realized. And now he'd made two more in a short amount of time. It felt nice, meeting new people. Scary, but nice. An odd combination, sure, but it worked.

When he'd gone downstairs, Isaiah didn't realize he was smiling until his mom said, "For someone who isn't a morning person, you look very happy."

He blinked, glanced at her, then realized his cheeks ached. "Oh," he said, rubbing at the side of his mouth. "Yeah. I'm in a good mood, I guess." Which was funny, because he hadn't been until he decided to text August.

His mom grinned at him. "Is there a girl you like? Is that it?"

He refrained from wincing. Quite the opposite, mom. But you're on the right track. "Sure."

"Oh! Who is it? Do I know her? I don't think I do," she gushed. "You've never introduced any girls to us, now that I think about it. You only have guy friends."

He sighed. "Mom, I know you're excited that I'm smiling, but it isn't a girl, okay?" He inwardly slapped himself. It made it sound like it was a boy making him happy, which was true, but he didn't want her to know that. What if she caught on? What if—

"What a shame," she said with a sigh. "Those girls are missing out, huh?"

His heart was pounding. He smiled awkwardly and nodded. He went to say something else, but Jordan walked in, hair piled up into a bun that had loose strands framing her head like static. She sniffed and glanced between her mom and brother.

"They're not missing out," she said, sticking her tongue out at Isaiah when he frowned. "No girl wants a guy that would rather do his glove than her."

"Jordan!" their mother gasped. "That was inappropriate! Don't you dare run away." She snatched the wooden spoon off the counter. "Get your ass back over here."

Isaiah watched his mom chase after his sister (well, she went as fast as she could with the slippers she had on) and the turned back around when she disappeared around the corner. He could hear Jordan's loud complaints and his mother's retorts from far away, and he snorted in amusement.

After he ate breakfast, he left the house and made his way to school, eyes shooting over to his phone in the passenger seat each time he heard it buzz. The first thing that went through his mind was that he hoped it was August, but he made out the letters of his brother's name instead. And he wasn't even saying anything important, just sending links to Twitter memes.

He still appreciated it though.

Once he'd parked, he expected to walk into school alone like he usually did, but a soft voice called out to him. He looked up and sent a smile to Morgan, who was jogging over, backpack bouncing against her back as she made her way over.

"Hi," she greeted, sending him a warm smile. "I never see you out here."

"Guess I left earlier," he said, shrugging.

She nodded, and they walked side-by-side in silence for a little bit. Until Morgan suddenly said, "I have a question."

"Shoot."

"Do you know if Steve likes flowers?"

Isaiah paused, then furrowed his brows. "What?" He looked down at her in confusion.

Morgan blushed and untucked her hair from behind her ear, letting it cover the side of her face. "D—do you know if Steve likes flowers? I know you all know I like him. I make that stuff painfully obvious. And I feel like he likes me too, so I wanted to get him something. I know guys usually don't receive flowers, but August likes flowers, so it's possible Steve does too. You know?"

Isaiah couldn't help but grin at her. "You're adorable, Morgan," he said, ruffling her hair. "And I'm sure he likes flowers. Don't tell him I told you, but he's also a sucker for romance novels."

She laughed. "Thank you. Sorry, by the way, I talk too much when I'm nervous."

"Don't apologize," Isaiah replied, bumping his shoulder gently against hers. "But yeah, it is kind of surprising when you start to ramble. I'm so used to you being all quiet and shy."

"I'm quiet around people I'm not completely comfortable with yet," she explained. "You should see me with August. He calls me a crack baby."

Isaiah snorted, then burst into laughter. "Of course he does," he wheezed, pressing his wrist against his mouth to hide his grin. "He calls me noodle boy. As of today, at least."

Morgan raised an eyebrow, quietly thanked Isaiah when he opened the doors for her. "As of today? He's called you noodle boy to me before. Several times."

He's talked about me? "I see he's been talking shit behind my back."

"Who's been talking shit?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. August squeezed his way between the two and wrapped his arms around their shoulders, one for each. The pad of his thumb grazed Isaiah's neck when August moved forward a bit, and Isaiah couldn't help the way his cheeks burned. God, he thought in anguish. He barely did anything, and I'm blushing. This is bad.

"You've been talking shit, mouse boy," Isaiah replied, relieved that his voice remained steady.

"Nah," August said, and the way he looked up at Isaiah made his heart pound. He probably didn't realize it, but he looked beyond attractive. With that stupid smirk on his face, and his half-lidded eyes, he could make Isaiah melt. He hated it and loved it at the same time.

August pinched his cheek, causing Isaiah to flinch in surprise. "I've been doing the complete opposite," he said. "All high praise, don't you worry, noodle boy."

"I'm gonna get tired of that real fast."

"Good, I love annoying people."

Isaiah smiled lightly and rolled his eyes. August grinned too before turning to Morgan, asking her questions about a class they shared. Isaiah shoved his hands inside his pockets, August's arm across his shoulders distracting him more than he'd like to admit. It felt nice, but it also made him feel antsy. It gave him butterflies, and over the course of a few days, he'd realized he hated the feeling of butterflies in his stomach.

Soon enough they reached Steve and Ashton, and the latter was copying Steve's homework as he always did for Calculus. Isaiah had a theory that Steve got the answers from someone else, too; he'd seen his grades on tests. (Spoiler: they weren't so good.)

Isaiah plopped down at the end of the table, resting his chin on top of his arms. He spared a look at Morgan, only to see her stealing glances at Steve every now and then. Flowers. He nudged Steve, who frowned as he was forced to look up from his book.

"Do you like flowers?" he asked, and Steve cocked a brow.

"Why?"

"Just answer the question, stupid."

"I prefer succulents."

"Of course you do."

Steve scowled. "The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you prefer succulents. Hey, you know who else likes succulents? Morgan does."

Steve perked up and looked over at Morgan. "You do?" Isaiah could almost imagine him as a puppy, wagging his tail.

"Um, I like all plants."

"So, would you know which of these I should get?" he asked, pulling out his phone and bringing up photos of plants he found online. "And here's a picture of my room. I don't know which of these would look better."

Morgan stared wide-eyed at Isaiah, mouthed 'what the fuck' and then shuffled to the other end of the table to help Steve pick out succulents for his room. Isaiah smirked smugly in triumph. I'm cupid.

August nudged him, taking the seat next to him. "You noticed too?" he asked quietly, just in case Steve would hear. "That they like each other?"

Isaiah nodded, and August chuckled, looking over at the pair. "They'd be cute," he admitted. "I knew right away they liked each other. I'm good at figuring that shit out."

Isaiah found his mouth running dry at the statement. Does that mean...?

He can't possibly know I like him, can he?

Shit.