Page 16 of Okay, Cupid

Mr. Benson smiles at me, skipping right past any awkwardness. “Hopefully it won’t bore you too much to go over it again.”

I give a quick thanks to Mr. Benson and navigate my way to my new desk. I keep watching for Huy or Alice, but neither of them makes an appearance, even when the bell rings.

Then, just as Mr. Benson is shutting the door, a tall Vietnamese boy who seems to ooze charm just by moving his body stops the door from shutting by almost slamming into it.

“Sorry, Mr. Benson!” he exclaims, sounding out of breath.

“Ah, Huy, nice of you to join us.”

I readjust in my seat, suddenly sitting with my back totally straight. He’s right there, right in front of me. Is this what meeting a celebrity feels like? Huy’s cheeks are flushed as he says, “Sorry, Mr. Benson. Car trouble.”

“It’s okay, Huy, just take your seat.”

There are some things you can’t plan for, being a Cupid; some things just happen naturally, almost as if the universe is working alongside us. That’s what Richard thinks anyway, that the world knows what we’re out here to do, and lends a hand every now and then.

I figure I must’ve done something to make the universe work in my favor, because Huy walks down the same aisle of desks I did, sitting down at the only empty one.

Which just so happens to be in front of me.

He doesn’t pay me any mind as he lets his backpack drop to the floor, reaching down to pull a notebook out of his bag. His hair is shaggy, falling around his ears in loose curls, with sparse hairs coming down the back of his neck. He even has a mole back there, right under his left ear.

It’s a weird angle, the back of someone’s head. It feels like something you should never see, like we totally forget that it’s even a thing until we’re faced with it for an hour and a half. Mr. Benson takes attendance, and we’re forced to sit through fifteen minutes of the student news that plays on a television hooked up in the corner of the classroom.

Then we finally get to the class discussion of The Crucible, and Mr. Benson goes over homework that I haven’t done. For that entire time, I try to think up a way to get Huy’s attention. I don’t think I can just interrupt all the talk of puritanical gossiping to tap on his shoulder and say, “Hi, I’m Jude! You’re Huy, right?”

I need to be Huy’s friend, to get in close with him so I can learn more about his and Alice’s relationship, why they fell apart, and why they’re destined to be together.

“Okay, everyone.” Mr. Benson goes for his desk, grabbing a stack of worksheets. “Here are a few questions about what we just covered. I want you to think about what we read, examine the themes present in the play.”

Huy turns toward me for a split second to pass back the worksheet, but I don’t earn an ounce of his attention.

So I go for the classic.

I reach over, tapping on his hunched shoulders, waiting for him to patiently turn.

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Hey, sorry,” I say. “I don’t have a pen—can I borrow one?”

There’s the slightest hint of a smile, almost like he’s a cat or something. Huy turns back, reaching into the front pocket of his backpack and searching for a bit before he pulls out a black ballpoint pen and hands it to me.

“Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Perfect.

Sure, he’s only said three words to me. One of which is Yeah?

But that’s more than I had before. It’s a start.

• • •

The period ends without much more progress, and I follow my memory of Neve’s instructions toward algebra 2, where Mrs. Henry gives me a textbook and I take everything in.

On the plus side, Huy and Alice are both in this class. It’s just that whatever their preexisting drama is was clearly bad enough for them to want to sit as far away from each other as humanly possible. Which will make things tough. There will be no pen borrowing to fix things this period. I try to watch their body language before class begins, but they don’t interact. Huy’s busy talking to his friends, who all seem to have the same golden-retriever vibe.

Alice is alone, near the back of the classroom, phone in hand as she scrolls quickly through whatever it is that she’s reading. There’s something about her body language that sends a chill down my spine. Like I definitely shouldn’t bother her.