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Every second.
Every second, every minute, every hour, every day, all Chip could think of was Leaf. Just...him. His stupid green eyes. His stupid red hair. Leaf was stupid. Chip knew it.
If Chip knew that so, so well, then why couldn't he get Leaf out of his thoughts? If he knew that Leaf was just hopeless and childish, why couldn't he forget about him for just one second and continue acting like everything's just fine?
Was it something about himself? Was there something about Chip that made him unable to get another guy out of his head, which he already decided was completely unacceptable?
Why did he have to have so many questions when he felt like he'd finally figured himself out?
Chip didn't have a single answer, why would he when he can't be bothered to think of one?
He just sat for the rest of class. Sat and thought about Leaf, because Leaf was more important than math anyway.
Chip tried talking to Logainne. He wouldn't normally go to a freshman for advice, but who cares, when she might know what the hell is happening with his mind that seems to draw him to The Coneybear Clan™.
"Maybe you're somewhere on the LGBTQ spectrum!" is the only response he got, and Chip was sure as hell that that couldn't be the case. Thankfully, he had a plan B. This same plan B being the one who handed him an apple juice, a box of concessions, and told him 'Figure it out, kid, seems like you'll need it.' 4 years ago at The Forbidden Bee™.
God, the counselors office was small. Not exactly fitting for Chip, but the thing is--did he have any other choice?
He'd never been this anxious. Chip's fingernails dug into his palms, bouncing his leg repeatedly, hands shaking. Finally, he starts.
"I don't know whats going on," The panic in Chip's stomach only grew as everything just spilt out. "He just won't get out of my head, every second, its just him. And he's stupid, I know he's stupid, because he never shuts up about it."
"Any chance you like em?" Mitch's voice was as it always, cool, calm, and way too brutally honest.
"No way!"
"Why not?," Could this get any more stressful for Chip? "Seems like it."
For a moment, the words felt stuck in Chip's throat, like he had to force out what he knew was untrue. Under the table, he picked at his nails, that being the only thing keeping him calm. He felt like hurling, because Chip knew what was true, and he knew what it made him, but most importantly, he knew that he couldn't be that.
"But I can't," Chip's voice began to break. It felt like everything he wanted to say just built up in his throat and tried to force itself out. "I-I can't be that. I just--I can't, because everybody wants something from me, or-or wants me to be something, and I just--"
"...Oh, okay," Mitch 's voice was understanding, realization dawning on him.
“Wh—Why are you looking at me like that!?” Mitch could hear the pure frustration in Chip’s voice.
”You don’t gotta be perfect,” Mitch, shut up, you’re supposed to be bad at this.
”…what?”
”You just have to be yourself,” Chip hoped this wasn’t just another shitty ‘be yourself’ speech. “because I don’t think anyone else is around to do it.”
”…”
”Thank you, Mr. Mahoney.”