GUS

PHIL’S DONE A thousand things for me. He’s led me through dozens of challenging campaigns in D&D, across fictional deserts and oceans, through astral crypts dark and cold. We’ve been to the ends of seven earths together.

In real life, he drives me to school every day. He taught me to read, and he lets me speak for myself. Phil smirks at my broken jokes. He doesn’t laugh much, but especially doesn’t when I’m not joking. He knows the difference.

So why is it that doing this one, normal thing for Phil feels impossible to me?

I’ve been trying to ask Rose Poplawski to be his homecoming date for more than a week. I’ve trailed her down hallways at least six times, but never reached out. Phil has asked me why. He’s asked me what’s taking so long. He’s accepted my excuses, but he has tunnel vision. The more time that passes, the heavier his sighs hit me. It’s never occurred to Phil that I’m more anxious about all this than he is.

If she says no, he loses a date. But either way, I’ll be losing him.

Speaking to Rose really doesn’t seem feasible. It’s not about her being unfriendly. She goes out of her way to be approachable, smiling at everyone she passes. Rose Poplawski is rarely anything but charming. She’s usually joking or playing with her impressive braid or covering her mouth when she laughs.

Is she covering up her snaggletooth, self-conscious like me? Or is she maybe worried that there’s smoke on her breath?

I’m not special for noticing the cracks in Rose Poplawski; no one else is actually looking. When we ask someone how they are, we don’t want them to tell us. We want to hear they’re fine, thanks, how are you?

Following a girl around the school for no good reason, that’s the sort of thing creeps do because they feel self-righteous, like it’s less creepy if you’re a nerdy loser instead of a stalker. I bet all stalkers feel justified.

I don’t feel justified. I’m not Phil.

A few times, Rose has caught me looking at her. I can’t explain it, but a window seems to open behind her eyes. The room past her eyelids is dark but full of all sorts of things that might be worth talking about. I might have a forest in my head, but I think there are other dark places in the world, places that don’t belong to me. Places no D&D campaign can go, places someone as uncomfortable as me can’t access.

I can’t ask Rose to go to homecoming with my best friend. Maybe I owe Phil a lot, but Rose Poplawski doesn’t owe either of us a single thing.