Mixtures 🤷🏽♀️

—-

Miles Morales. Quirky, cute, and smart, but above all, respectful.

Perhaps the boy was blind, but those attributes of his set him apart from the other students in high school. When others were busy playing tricks on teachers, he’d be studying—scratch that, he’d actually be the behind-the-scenes man who'd give them the idea but would never partake in the action, which helped him maintain his status as the golden student of their school, so sneaky should be added to that list as well.

When his peers were engaging in frivolous activities, he focused on his studies, showed respect to those older than him, and assisted the teachers in cleaning up after the mess his buddies made, which he encouraged from the shadows. (Enabling ass nigga.)

These factors caused a girl his age, who would generally go for troublemakers, or bad boys, as they call them, to look his way. It was beyond shocking how he did not notice the glances they all sent him, the giggles, the forced conversion they always started with him, and that he gladly indulged in airily. He had this way of making people he was speaking with feel like their next words were the most important thing in the world, and whether they were girls or boys, they all loved it.

Love that someone was there to listen to them and only them; that was probably the reason why he was never snitched on, because the boys of his high school weren’t really the I don’t kiss and tell type. They would sing like birds if it would get them out of detention.

But slowly, all of that attention from the girls died down as they noticed his crush on his friend. The feelings didn’t seem to be reciprocated, but Miles didn’t give up, unlike the girls in class. They found out that giving up on someone that you alone like was harder than a whole group giving up on one man since they could clock each other the second they saw someone show signs of falling back into the Miles Trap they call it.

But that didn't mean that they stopped talking to him; they were still attracted to him. They just took their precautions, for they knew firsthand that there was nothing more annoying than someone who couldn’t get it.

————

It was 2:50 pm, and at this point, half of the students were fake listening to the teacher’s lecture, and the other half were loudly placing their books back onto their backpacks, ready to get the hell out of here.

Miles, on the other hand, was doing neither one of those. With a pencil trapped between his upper lips and nose, he was desperately trying to finish his homework for tomorrow, for he had promised to help his mother today. He knew he could get some time to do his homework at home if he told her, but it wasn’t everyday that THE Rio Morales would ask for favors from her son, whom she knew was busy with school work, so there was no way in hell that he was gonna turn her down. So there he was, desperately trying to finish his homework.

He didn’t see the teacher halt her lecture to gesture for someone to enter. He didn’t see the confusion on the students faces, which overthrew their awe as a new face walked in.

Confusion because there were 10 minutes left before the dismissal bell rang. Who in the name of hell, and why would a new student come now? One student was quick to ask that as the girl, now known as Margo, finished her introduction.

“I been here since 8," she responded with a grin. “I just made sure to extend my stay in the principal's office till now.” The revelation earned her a couple of wide-eyed looks from her peers. Their principal, Migeul, wasn’t someone anyone could just fool around with.

"Thought about extending it to 5 minutes? It would've been better." The girl barely finished her question when Margo eagerly replied, her voice laced with amusement. "Oh, trust me," she chuckled. "I tried, but when he came up with the excuse that she had to go save her cat, which— listen to this." She said, seizing the attention of everyone, but the boy engrossed in his homework.

“Was drowning in the freaking ocean, I knew then---." she paused, making a bold move to let the rest of the students finish her words, and surprisingly, they did.

“He had enough!" They chimed in gladly, followed by a massive collective burst of laughter, which neither fazed nor distracted the boy, who was still immersed in his notebook.

“Exactly.” Margo breathed out, a sense of relief washing over her. Her tense shoulder dropped seeing the friendly faces around her. Being a new student was never easy, even for someone as outgoing as herself. Making friends had always come naturally, but joining a class that was already used to each other was akin to an orphan joining a new family. It was difficult, but she was grateful that her procrastination in the principal’s office had provided the perfect icebreaker.

“Alright, alright.” The teacher's claps resonated, gradually calming down the bubbling laughter as she scanned the room for an empty seat. Margo brushed an imaginary speck of dust off her uniform, adjusting her waist-long knotless goddess braids that cascaded down her shoulders to her waist. Each time she raised her head, her eyes met a friendly smile. This was good, she thought to herself.

The teacher's eyes lit up when she finally spotted an unoccupied seat. "First row, right next to the window, at the left of Miles Morales," she announced, her tone seeking to catch the attention of the absent-minded boy.

At the mention of his name, the boy jolted upright, holding his textbook, which was upside down. He swiftly fixed it, thinking he was being asked to read the next chapter. The fit of laughter that followed his clumsy action darkened his cheeks as he slowly lowered his book with a sheepish smile on his face, meeting the teacher's amused gaze.

“Do you want me to explain why you were called?” The teacher inquired, arching a perfect brow and sporting a teasing smile. It wasn't characteristic of him to be inattentive during her lectures. While Miles had his moments of mischief like any other boy his age, he was usually attentive, and considering that it was almost the end of the class, she decided to let him off with just a playful prod.

No, I want you to explain why I’m actually in school— of course, I want you—he forcefully suppressed his thoughts, nodding as he placed his book down, inadvertently causing the pencil resting on his desk to topple over.

He saw the fallen pencil as a small mercy from the heavens. He reached for it, hoping the minor distraction might minimize his embarrassment, but someone else was faster than him. He pulled back, observing the girl crouching on the ground and handing him the pencil with her perfectly manicured hand.

He was taken back by the new face and the scent of gardenia enveloping him as he looked at her, and for a moment, the classroom had faded away, and he had found himself transported to a serene garden, surrounded by the sweet fragrance of blooming flowers. His gaze lingered on her, the source of this captivating aroma. She smelled divine, and he couldn't help but take in a deep breath, savoring every nuance of her intoxicating scent.

“Yours,” a velvety and smooth voice interjected, catching him off guard. The sound of it was a melodic cadence that seemed to reverberate through the air, sending a rush of excitement through him. Her voice was one he hadn't heard before, one that carried a subtle undertone of confidence and warmth that enveloped him like a comforting embrace.

T-This was weird. How could a voice—a simple word—make him feel so... odd? He thought, attempting to shake off the inexplicable sensation that had taken hold of him. He shifted his gaze, hoping to escape the turmoil that seemed to be stirring within, but as his eyes met hers, he couldn't deny the surge of attraction that engulfed him.

A flutter of butterflies danced in his stomach. Her eyes, dark and deep, seemed to draw him in; it felt as though he was being pulled into an endless abyss, one that he didn't want to escape from.

(Lol, as I'm fixing this, I just remembered her eyes are actually brown. XD, I'm not changing it. Fight me! 🤺)

She waved to the pencil, dispelling the trance she had cast over him, and Miles's attention snapped back to the immediate situation. Blushing with embarrassment at having been caught staring at her for God knows how long, he sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, desperately attempting to regain his composure. Though her words weren't a question, all he could manage was a meek "yeah" as he retrieved the pencil, his throat dry as he cleared it.

Was the temperature rising, or was it just him? When did she enter the classroom—scratch that—when did someone more captivating than Isabel, the 'it girl,' grace their school with her presence?

His gaze remained fixed on her face despite his better judgment as she tucked a stray strand of knotless goddess braids behind her ear, smiling. He could tell it was her reaction to his unabashed staring, but he still couldn’t help himself. He found himself studying her, as if trying to commit every contour of her features to memory, sketching an image of her in his mind's eye.

Margo noticed that. He was tall and cute, so having his attention on her wasn’t something that displeased her. Unable to resist the urge to tease him, she folded her arms on her knees, her chin resting on them as she batted her long eyelashes, and playfully inquired, "You okay?"

The mischievous glint in her eye raised the suspicion that she was well aware of the effect she had on him, and she seemed to be relishing every moment of it. The smirk on her face only confirmed his suspicion, causing a rush of heat to flood his cheeks. In a sudden attempt to regain his balance, he stepped back, only to collide with the chair behind him, but managed to steady himself just in time.

"Uh, might wanna watch that—"

"I'm fine, thank you," he hissed, his smile feeling more like a grimace as he continued to watch her. Not only did she wait until he collided with the damn chair to give him a warning, but she also seemed to relish every single millisecond of his misfortune.

With a slight tilt of her head, she retorted, "If you say so," before standing up, that same smirk still dancing on her lips as she settled back into her seat.

He let out a frustrated tsk, unconsciously grasping the front of his shirt and fanning himself, attempting to dispel the sudden rush of warmth that had engulfed him.

"Are you sure about that?" It was the teacher's turn to intervene, her gaze dropping to his shirt as she raised a quizzical eyebrow, a subtle smirk playing on her lips. Miles quickly let go of his shirt, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise in his cheeks. Why was everyone stepping on his business today?

"Who's she?" He inquired, unable to contain his curiosity, before he even had a chance to sit down. The teacher closed her book, leaning on her desk as she explained, "Well, if you were paying attention, Morales, you'd know she's the new student."

HA! She just couldn't help herself, could she? He shifted his gaze, feeling the weight of embarrassment settle in. She really had to put him on the spot, didn't she? His pride kicked in, prompting him to speak up again, this time with more confidence than someone who hadn't been paying attention should have, but the clock atop the board reminded him that he just needed to maintain the facade for another 8 minutes.

“I was paying attention.”