Ep 2

Being constantly outshone is not that bad. Once you get used to the fact that you could not be as accomplished as others. My parents realized it when I was 13. They're not the type to make fuss on how much I lack. They simply accepted that their second son is just average. "It evens out", my once aunt said at an event.

I don't know what's worse, the feeling that I lack compared to my siblings, or that my parents never pushed me as they did with them.

I was constantly overthinking such events.

"Alex!"

I was disrupted away from my thoughts. As I looked about I say Jacob. Our school's star basketball player and a man of potential. He maintained his grades at A without excuses.

"Overthinking again?"

"I am impressed you know me that much" I retorted.

He gave a chocolate milkshake and dragged me off to the bulletin boards.

"Our results came out! Look! Lia is third again!"

He was basically a puppy for that girl. I could imagine his non-existing tail wagging excitedly as he went off into his imagination.

I ignored him and searched for my name. Alexander Rupert Spencer...

Ah... I was fifth, again. 94 percent. Again.

Preschool, middle school, high school... All the same.

Beside me, my dear friend was yapping about Prom…

"Lia McRose, and Me, Prom Queen and King. We'd look stunning as the phone gets taken, and I'll sleep her off her feet. She'd giggle cutely and I'll spin her, showing our love to the whole audience -"

"Have you even asked her out yet?" I cut on his fantasy narrative.

He paused for a moment before speaking up, "Not yet, but-", he pulled out a rose and a card, "I will as soon as I get the chance."

His bad luck, Lia came that day with the captain of the soccer team. Students in the hallway started to stare at the couple. Jacob looked like a wounded pup on a sidewalk.

I put a hand around his shoulder and dragged him off to the cafeteria.

"Let's have bread and jam". I said decisively. He was not in the mood to eat. Except bread and jam. Most people go for ice-cream when they're sad, he goes for bread and jam. And thanks to that, I started to enjoy them too.

As we sat down at the table, and I brought our set trays of food, he was pouting his bottom lip like a child about to throw a tantrum.

"Eat first," I sat beside him as he began to eat. We finished two out of the three slices of bread when he spoke.

"I think she likes Nex... I don't stand a chance, do I?"

I grabbed his hand, and looked at him. This natural charmer, one most girls pine for, was uncharacteristically self-conscious and putting himself down.

"Did you even confess to her?"

"No..."

"Then confess. You are one of the popular guys in this school. Ask her out."

He smiled, a small curve of his lips that I admire.

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