For Nevermore Season 1

he could, but the real problem was that Mako’s parents were ridiculously strict, even for old school Japanese parents. Most days, Mako could only leave the house for school or violin practice. Even though she and Noella lived just one block apart, Noella had only been past her front door a few times.
    Mako was a near slave to her violin, with 12 hours of practice per week, and a quarterly performance to prove the time, and money, was well-spent. She played like an angel, but half the time hated it like the devil, and played like she was trying to prove it. Mako called her style, Violince. Of course, she never dared to play like that for her parents, or they would freak the frick out out.
    Violince sounded like its name, violent strings, but there was a desperate, elegant beauty to Mako’s playing that made Noella want to happy cry.
    “So how’s it going on your almost birthday ,” Mako asked.
    “Josie’s sick, and Randy was a jerk this morning.”
    “Is your aunt too sick to celebrate tomorrow?”
    Noella shook her head. “I dunno, she was under the covers when I left. She never stays home, so I’m guessing she’s feeling super crappy.”
    Mako nodded. “Ah, that’s why you’re riding the bus. And here I thought you just wanted my company.”
    “Yup, that and I wanted to see if there were new developments in peer humiliation since the last time I took advantage of the district’s transportation.”
    Mako laughed. “So are you doing anything tomorrow? Have any plans, other than taking care of your aunt?”
    “Probably gonna stare at the wall for a few hours,” Noella said with a grin. “You know how I am on my birthday. And besides, tomorrow is 10 years since …” Noella trailed off, not wanting, or needing, to finish the sentence. Mako knew Noella as well as anyone could.
    “What about Sam?” Mako asked. “Maybe the two of you could do something together? Maybe you can finally ask him out. You don’t have to wait for the boy to ask, ya’ know?”
    “Shut. Up,” Noella said, shooting daggers at Mako. “I don’t like him like that .”
    Mako laughed.
    Noella wished her heart didn’t beat faster every time she was around Sam. She hated crushing on her best friend. It made for way too many awkward moments. But the longer she knew him, the more she felt for him. In a world of jerks, jocks, and creepers, Sam was like no other guy she knew.
    First, he was cute, with a light complexion and a thick mop of long brown hair that matched his eyes. He wasn’t exactly a hottie, but he had the cutest dimples, kindest smile, and the best insides of anyone she knew. Sam was also artistic, with an eye for color that made Noella long to know the world through someone else’s eyes. And to round out the package, he was also funny, hysterical really, with a wry, observational wit that made Noella sigh.
    The most unbelievable thing about Sam, however, was that despite being a nice guy, and incredibly smart and talented, he was also semi-popular. Guys as authentic as Sam weren’t generally popular, at least not in her school. Usually, being popular involved some kind of brain transplant with chimps. And not even the smart chimps, but rather the ones that spent their days flinging poop.
    Noella was sure Sam would’ve been one of the school’s crowned elite if not for the completely ridiculous whispers that he might be gay. While his questionable sexuality didn’t hurt him in drama club, where he really shined, there was a strong undercurrent of homophobia and racism among the most popular guys. If they ever found reason to believe Sam was gay, he’d be an outcast just like Noella in a matter of hours.
    Thinking of Sam made her smile a big, goofy grin. And a big, goofy grin was as out of place on Noella as it would be on Eeyore.
    Mako caught the grin, and laughed, “Yeah, you don’t like him at all.”
    “No!” Noella said, lying to Mako and herself.
    Not liking Sam would be infinitely easier in the long run. She’d feel less awkward. She’d feel less vulnerable. And it would remove the constant question in the back of her head: When will Sam leave me?
    She would never voice the fear out loud, but a small part of her was certain that Sam would eventually grow even more popular and turn his back on her just like Becca had done. And it was this part of her, the fear, that made her sorta glad people thought he was gay. After all, if he climbed too high up the social ladder, he’d no longer have time