(5.5) Jaron’s POV: First Glance - Part 1

Jaron knows most eyes are on him as he moves between pews to sit in the front. It's the kind of thing he's grown used to, so there isn't a chance to dislike it as he did when he was a kid. It's just a constant in his life now that he has to deal with, like an annoying relative or a cracked screen.

His mom is in the back organizing snacks for after service. His dad, the pastor, is probably in his office going over his sermon one last time.

The middle row is already packed, which makes sense—it's the row where people can see and be seen. That's where the most pious, or the most reputation-caring people sit. Jaron could squeeze in, but chooses the front row on the side instead. From here, he can see the whole church with just a tilt of his head.

He smiles if anyone meets his eyes. Mostly adults. And they smile back in that patronizing way of theirs. The way grown-ups smile when they think what a good kid, but are too stingy about it to actually say it out loud.

Just as he settles back, aiming to look respectfully engaged without actually thinking too hard, something catches his eye.

A bright purple hoodie.

Jaron turns his head. Clearly, someone doesn't care about dressing up for church. He looks.

And his heart stutters.

The hoodie is worn by a boy flanked by two exhausted-looking adults. But Jaron barely registers them. The moment the boy turns slightly, light hits his face, and Jaron needs to consciously shut his mouth to not drool.

Glowing brown skin, like sunlight on cinnamon. A soft mouth, frowning slightly like he doesn't want to be here. High cheekbones, a straight nose, and eyes that look like they've seen everything and want none of it. He isn't smiling. Not even pretending to.

Jaron doesn't know someone can be pretty and pissed off at the same time.

He doesn't realize he's still staring until the boy's gaze flicks up and passes around the church. The boy doesn't look at him. Just sweeps his gaze over the room, disinterested. Jaron exhales slowly.

The only way that this kid might be prettier is if he stops scowling, but Jaron figures that this guy isn't the type to smile much.

Jaron tries mostly to focus on his dad's sermon, but can't help himself. His gaze keeps wandering over to purple-hoodie-boy. The boy doesn't even pretend to pay attention to the sermon. He's scribbling into a notebook.

To be fair, Jaron isn't paying attention either. His dad has practiced it in front of him, so he's gotten this speech several times already.

Once the service ends, Jaron and most of the other kids his age are encouraged to get to know each other in a classroom. He knows he'll have to try extra hard to make any friends here, considering they all already know each other. And he also knows that his dad wants to make an excellent impression as the new pastor here.

Jaron starts moving around the room, introducing himself to everyone who probably already knows who he is. It's kind of irritating because the script is the same for every person: introduction, compliment, ask them a question, pretend to be interested as they begin talking. It always works though. He's fairly sure people actually like him and don't just pretend. He smiles and shakes hands anyway, but he's mostly looking around for purple-hoodie-boy.

Jaron spots him eventually. The guy is sitting in the back, on a couch, knees curled to his chest with a drawing in front of him. He makes no attempt to talk to anyone.

"Do you know him?" a girl asks.

Jaron looks at her. "Sorry?"

"You kept looking over at him." She smiles faintly. "I was wondering if you could...introduce me." She pauses. "Oh, sorry. I'm Estelle."

Jaron smiles brightly again. "Hi Estelle. I'm Jaron. We just moved here. I don't know him yet, but I figure I should try to get to know everyone." He winks at her. "I could introduce you once I meet him. The two of you would be cute." He doesn't really want to introduce them, though. He wants purple-hoodie-boy to himself for a little while.

She turns just a little pink. "Thanks. Yeah. Go for it."

So Jaron makes his way to purple-hoodie-boy. The kid looks up, still wearing his signature faint scowl. That seems to just be his face, so Jaron doesn't take it to heart.

"Hello," Jaron says brightly and holds out his hand as he does with all the others. His script always works. "My name is Jaron Ashcomb."