An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
For Simon's Month 2024 hosted by @youngroyals-events
Day One: Pencil Case
Simon starts finding mysterious objects in his pencil case. He has his suspicions as to who is responsible. Post Season 1. (NR, 1.8k)
Read on ao3 or below the cut :)
“Maddie! Maddie, wait.” Wille panted, running down the hallway. She turned around, even more confused when she saw Wille barreling towards her.
“I know you’re friends with Simon, and I .. I need some help.”
She studied him warily. “Isn’t he completely not talking to you?” She asked.
“No, he’s.. He just told me he needs space. Which I’m fine with, I really am, but I can’t not have him in my life.”
“Wille, I feel for you, I do. I’m sorry, but it’s so unfair of you to try to get him back when he’s told you he’s not interested. I would have kicked your ass to the Netherlands by now.”
Wille stared at her. “Look, I just want to be his friend again. And if he doesn’t want to sit with me, or even talk to me, that’s fine. But I just want him to know I’m serious about him, as a friend, and that I’m sorry.” Maddie looked like she was turning the words over in her head. Finally, she looked up at Wille, eyes honest and firm.
“Fine. What do you need me to do?”
–
Simon plopped down in his seat next to a girl whose name he couldn’t remember and pulled his notebook and pencil case out of his backpack. It was an especially cold day, and he must have breathed in a bit too deeply when he was running to catch the bus, because he felt a nasty cough coming on. Before the lesson started, Simon slipped out into the hallway for a drink. Mrs. Ramirez gave him a stern look when he walked back in, and they did their usual standing greeting. Simon plopped down in his seat and reached for his pencil case.
Three honey lozenges stared back at him, right on top of the rest of his No.2 pencils. He swept his head from side to side, but no one was looking his way. The girl next to him looked back at him strangely. Maybe it was Sara’s way of getting back in his favor, but she was sitting all the way across the classroom. He pulled a pencil out, and quickly unwrapped one of the lozenges before anyone could notice. Immediately, his mouth was coated in numbing honey, and he instantly felt his throat cool down in relief.
–
The next time it happened, Simon was even more confused. He had left his backpack in his locker during lunch, which was quickly becoming one of his least favorite times of the day. Wille didn’t try to sit with him, perse, but he could still feel his eyes on him the whole time. Simon was proud that he hadn’t all out yelled at him yet.
He rushed back to his locker, eager to escape the winter cold and make it to history on time. When he got to class, he went through his usual routine of pulling out his notebooks and pencil case. Wille, as usual, was keeping his distance, and sat ahead of Simon a few rows. It looked like he’d gotten another haircut, and it was browner than ever in the depths of Swedish winter. Simon drummed his fingers absently over Garfield’s face, remembering when Micke had thrown the metal case into the cart the single year he took Simon and Sara school supply shopping.
They stood in their usual greeting, and Simon sat back down, opening his pencil case.
Inside, there was a set of new and brightly colored gel pens, all of them purple.
–
It was becoming a thing. He nearly started to look forward to it, although Simon didn’t want to admit it to himself. He’d narrowed it down to three options: one would be some sort of secret admirer. However, Simon didn’t think that said secret admirer would know enough about him for the types of gifts he was getting. The next option would be Sara, although Simon noticed that she had been skipping too many classes lately for her to do be so consistent, and lately he was feeling like the animosity was mutual.
Finally, and perhaps most obviously, was Wille. He still felt Wille’s eyes on him when he’d walk the halls or sit in class, but every time he’d try to catch him in the act Wille would avert his gaze. The problem was, though, that each time it happened Wille seemed to be too far away; when Simon had found the purple pens, he had just been with Wille in class and at lunch. Because Wille was respecting his space, he’d made a habit of sitting across the classroom from Simon whenever possible. So how the hell would he have managed to sneak something in his pencil case every day for the past week?
Throughout the day he found himself running through a mental list. It went like this:
Day one: three honey lozenges
Day two: four purple gel pens
Day three: an eraser shaped like a monkey
Day four: a small sheet of fruit stickers (mostly oranges)
Day five: a cherry lollipop
Day six: nothing new, except all of his pencils had been freshly sharpened and their erasers wiped clean
Day seven: a set of mini post-its
Day eight: two chocolate chip cookies
Day nine: a (fairly bad) drawing of Felle
He looked up from his pencil case suspiciously. By now, some of his classmates noticed it was happening. He turned in his seat to show Maddie the drawing, who was sitting behind him, and she just shrugged her shoulders and frowned.
Simon had also noticed Wille looking at him. It was nothing new, at all, but he felt his eyes on him every time they were in the same room; at lunch, in class, at workies. Once or twice they’d made eye contact and WIlle smiled at him sheepishly. It just made Simon sad, then angry, that he had the audacity to look at Simon like a kicked puppy dog when he was the one who, as he’d pointed out numerous times, hurt Simon. He tried to avert his eyes when it happened.
Until one day it stopped. Simon tried to hide his disappointment when he opened his pencil case and found - nothing. He’d amassed a mini collection in the front pocket of his backpack, and the candies and snacks had definitely come in handy on his longer days at school. Simon went to gym, and all of a sudden Wille wasn’t looking at him anymore. In fact, he made a conscious effort to avoid Simon, passing the ball to anyone but him, and getting out of the locker rooms as fast as humanly possible. It proved consistent in class and at lunch, where he’d taken to sitting at the very end of the table. It made it so much worse.
He’d just about gotten used to his pencil case being empty (of course, he still had his pencils, gel pens, and eraser in it) when one day, he opened the case up and there was a small folded note on lined paper. He felt immediately nervous, and must have fidgeted all class because his teacher gave him a funny look when he bounded out the door. He finally made it to his locker, and in the enclosure of the metal door, he unfolded the thin paper.
Dear Simon
I understand now. I will leave you alone.
- Wille
For a moment, Simon’s heart stopped in his chest. He knew that Wille was responsible, had even had a begrudging hope that it was so, but every part of him wanted to resist. It was, admittedly, one of the highlights of his day, however confusing it was, because all of a sudden his anger took over. Did Wille really think a week of leaving him small gifts, like a child, would fix their rift, would fix his lie? And if so, did it only take a week for him to give up on Simon?
He slammed his locker door shut and walked out of the hallway, grateful that their school day was over so he wouldn’t do something stupid.
Rosh, of all people, called him on it. “What the hell is with you today?” She asked, nudging him with her knee as they sat next to each other playing FIFA.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he grumbled, fixing his eyes on the screen.
“Please, cut the shit Simon. I and the whole world knows when you’re pissed. Except for maybe you.” She played along for a moment, scoring with a whoop.
“It’s nothing.” Simon said, tilting his joycon for a better angle.
“Fuck you, it’s nothing. You had a sex tape leaked for the world to see, you broke up with the Crown Prince of Sweden, and you’re not talking to your sister. Am I supposed to guess what’s bothering you now?” She asked, finally turning to him and crossing her arms.
He stilled, and a moment later turned towards Rosh. “Wille’s been… leaving me gifts,” he said. Rosh’s brow knit.
“What do you mean, leaving you gifts?” She said, her shoulders dropping.
“Like, cough drops when my throat was sore. Gel pens. Candies.”
“What, like in your coat pockets?” She asked, looking suddenly amused.
“No. In my pencil case. You know the one.”
“That’s an interesting strategy.” She looked deeply at Simon, almost digging for something. “Don’t tell me it’s working,” she glowered.
Simon shook his head and shrugged. “At first it was nice, I dunno. Annoying, but he did finally listen and stop sitting right next to me or trying to start a conversation.” Rosh rolled her eyes, but let him continue. “I kind of let it happen, I guess. But then it stopped. And today, I found this.” He pulled the now crumpled note out of his pocket.
She grabbed it from him and her eyes widened. “That motherfucker,” she breathed.
“Yeah.”
A few seconds turned into a few minutes. Usually quick to speak, Rosh looked contemplative.
“What are you going to do?” Simon looked up at her in surprise.
“I mean, I clearly would’ve kicked him all the way to the fucking Buckingham Palace where he belongs by now, but obviously if you were going to do that, you would have already.”
“What do you mean? I literally told him not to talk to me!” He fired back.
“Right, and now you’re all upset because he is doing exactly that,” she pointed out, and fuck if Rosh wasn’t always right. It could be infuriating.
“So what are you going to do?”
–
Simon took a breath, looking down at the same crumpled note in his hands. It now had new ink, in purple, on the back. He took a deep breath, made sure the coast was clear, and walked up to Wille’s locker. It slipped easily in the grate.
I spent my days waiting for you
searching the crowd for your face
I stopped breathing the moment
you recognized me, as you captured
my soul with your gaze
<Christy Ann Martine>
For Simon’s Month 2024 hosted by @youngroyals-events
