I Feel Like I’ve Become a Bothersome Person Getting in the Way Between My Childhood Friends. - Chapter 4

September.

In America, education is mandatory through high school, so without taking any entrance exams, we naturally advanced to high school. Unlike middle school, the number of students increased dramatically, so being Asian no longer made me stand out.

Of course, Stanley was in a league of his own here too. Back in middle school, he still had that cute-boy look, but as he grew taller and more mature, that cuteness faded and he started to look more like a handsome young man. His good looks had sharpened to the point where it was hard to believe he was only fourteen.

What surprised me most after entering high school was how stereotypical the social hierarchy really was. The so-called queen bee of the school was a cheerleader with a pretty face, a perfect figure, and a rich family. Her boyfriend was the star quarterback of the football team — handsome, athletic, and popular. It was as if there was an actual rule that every high school needed its jocks and cheerleaders. Their followers — the sidekicks who flattered and clung to them — rounded out the group. This was the so-called Cool crowd.

Naturally, I was part of the lower tier — the Losers. That tier included goths, geeks, and nerds. Since racial discrimination still lingered in society, most Asian students, myself included, ended up in that group by default.

And Stanley? With his good looks, build, and athletic ability, the Cool upperclassmen often invited him to hang out. He sometimes accepted, but usually chose to spend time with me, which put him in an awkward middle position — We’d like him in the Cool crowd, but he hangs out with that Loser girl, so I guess not… but he’s hot, so we still want to hang out with him. That kind of thing. Honestly, if he didn’t stick with me, he could have easily become a top jock by now. What a waste, I often thought.

High school in America isn’t like in Japan — it’s a credit system, more like college. Aside from required core subjects, you can choose the classes you want. Since Stanley and I have different strengths and weaknesses, we take some classes together and others separately. During those separate classes, I became close with an exchange student from China and a Korean girl. My middle school friends and I see each other less often now; we just chat briefly when we pass in the hall. They’ve probably found new communities too.

One day during lunch at the cafeteria with my new friends, I got a message.

“Hey, my friend wants to come over — he’s a guy though, is that okay?”
“Of course! Yay, we’re getting a new friend!”
“What kind of guy? Is he cute!?”
“I—I think he’s… handsome.”
“Ohhh, I can’t wait!”

Just then, the noisy cafeteria grew a little more restless. I didn’t even have to look — it had to be Stanley. I didn’t have the courage to wave and call him over, so I texted him our table’s location and waited for him to find us.

My two friends noticed him as soon as he entered. Sitting with my back to the entrance, I could hear them whispering.

“Look, it’s Stanley!”
“He really is gorgeous. Think he came alone?”
“No way, he’s probably sitting with the Cool kids.”
“Don’t you know? He’s not really part of that group.”
“Then who’s he meeting?”
“Who knows? I’d love to see what kind of person has plans with him.”
“Uh… is he coming this way?”
“No way — this is the Loser table. He wouldn’t come here.”
“But… wait…”

Then Stanley stopped right next to our table. My friends’ eyes widened.

“There you are, Aria. Are these your new friends?”

He sat down smoothly beside me and looked across at my two frozen friends, tilting his head slightly.

“W-wait, Aria!? You know him!?”
“Don’t tell me the guy friend you mentioned is Stanley!?”

This was mortifying — it totally looked like I was bragging about being close to him. I probably should’ve said no after all.

“We’re just childhood friends,” I explained quickly.
“Yeah, we’re just childhood friends,” he echoed, emphasizing the word just.

His tone sounded a little snarky, but I ignored it.

Then my friends seemed to realize something. They glanced around nervously and looked at him with apologetic expressions.

“It’s fine if you’re close with Aria and all, but…”
“…Are you sure it’s okay for you to be sitting with us?”

I knew what they meant immediately, though Stanley clearly didn’t.

“It’s just… we’re not white,” one of them said hesitantly.

Her voice was soft but certain. My heart ached a little. Even though there were more Asians here, the social divide hadn’t changed much from middle school. The central tables in the cafeteria were still mostly white students, while the rest of us sat along the edges. So a guy like Stanley — white, good-looking, and out of place at our corner table — naturally drew stares. What my friends meant was won’t people look down on you for hanging out with us?

But Stanley just shrugged and said casually,

> “Since when does race have anything to do with who you eat lunch with?”

Then he started eating like nothing happened. My friends’ eyes lit up. I understood exactly how they felt — for someone used to being on the receiving end of discrimination, those words meant everything.

> “Aria, you’ve got such a good friend.”
“He’s amazing.”

They looked at Stanley with admiration, and I started to panic a little. See, Stanley tends to be overly familiar with people he’s close to — like that time in the original story where he did a chin tilt to Xeno. Once you’re in his circle, he completely ignores personal space. If my friends developed crushes on him and then got jealous seeing how close we were, my hard-earned friendship could fall apart. I couldn’t let that happen.

“Uh, just to be clear, Stanley and I really are just childhood friends, okay? Nothing romantic, so no need to worry.”

Please don’t stop being my friends. I was only trying to prevent misunderstandings, but Stanley sighed beside me, sounding annoyed.

> “Yeah, like she said — we’re just childhood friends. Nothing more.”

He said it in a flat tone, but my friends gasped softly and exchanged looks.

> “I think that’s really sweet, though!”
“You’ve known each other since you were kids? That’s adorable!”

Their sudden change in attitude left me confused. Stanley looked sulky, which made me wonder. Maybe he was upset because I called us “just” childhood friends? That didn’t make sense — it was true. So I thought back on what I’d said earlier.

> “Nothing romantic, so no need to worry.”

Wait… was that it?

No way — if he got mad because of that, it’d be like he actually liked me. Ridiculous. Sure, he likes hanging around me, and he told me to break up with Tomonori, but still…

Then again, thinking about his behavior so far, that might actually be the case.

And if it was, that would be bad. Seriously bad. He’s fourteen — that’s a crime. No matter how good-looking he is, that’s not happening. Totally off-limits.

Come to think of it, I’ve had this same thought before… Maybe I’m just overthinking. It’s not like he actually confessed or anything. I’m probably just being conceited.

“You’re in a bad mood all of a sudden. Don’t tell me you like me or something. No way… right? Ahaha.”

I said it jokingly, hoping he’d deny it. But all three of them fell silent, and the laugh stuck in my throat.

I glanced sideways — and locked eyes with him.

Oh no. Awkward.

> “You really don’t make things easy, huh?”

He said it with a smirk, like he saw right through me. Flustered, I quickly turned back to my tray. My friends gave me polite, knowing smiles.

Okay. Fine. I’ll just pretend I didn’t notice. I’ll act totally oblivious.

Yes — I’ll stick to not knowing anything at all.