What They See

JUNE’S POV 

Tuesday came faster than I expected.

He was exactly where he said he’d be.

I got to the library after my counseling session with Miss Justice.

He was leaning back in his chair, tie loose and locks of hair falling out of place.

“You’re late,” 

“I’m on time.” I responded.

“That’s not how it looks from here.” 

“Have you ever considered that your perception might be,” I started. “…wrong” 

He let out a laugh and I looked at him confused.

How was that funny?

I brought out my notes and noticed he picked up the textbooks I had brought out the last time.

“How did you know what textbooks I use?” 

He just shrugged his shoulders and muttered, “I’m really observant.”

“Alright, we’re starting with what you actually do not understand.” 

“Everything?” 

“Excuse me?” 

I stared at him.

“You’re joking.” I said dryly.

“I wish I was.” 

“Okay, we’ll just use the syllabus. First topic, democracy and participation.”

We started on the work and I explained from the beginning to the end. 

“It’s about power, who has it and how they use it. Start with elections, we use a system called First Past the Post.”

“Meaning?”

“Whoever gets the most votes wins, even if it’s not the majority.” I explained.

“So why use it?”

“To be simple, it produces a clear winner and it’s easy to operate.”

“So it is efficient but not necessarily representative?”

“Exactly.” I responded.

We were able to cover two topics.

“Is this correct?” He asked.

I glanced at his work.

“It’s not terrible.”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” 

“It’s progress.” I replied.

“So if the system isn’t fair, why do people accept it.” I shrugged.

“It works well enough.” 

His lips curved slightly.

“That sounds familiar, like us.” He gestured between us. 

I looked up to correct him when I realized he wasn’t looking at the page anymore.

He was looking at me.

“Focus.” I said dryly.

“I am.”

“You’re not.” 

After our study session, we both decided to rest for a bit.

“You never returned the jersey, you know?” 

I paused.

“I forgot to take it off.” 

“Sure.” He said sarcastically.

“You looked good in it.” He added.

“In what?” 

“My jersey.” He smiled.

I didn’t respond.

Silence stretched between us.

Not awkward.

Just comfortable.

“I should get going.” He broke the silence.

“Alright.” I said, not standing up.

“Thank you.” He said with a smile and left.

I was returning the books when an annoying voice spoke.

“You know he’s just gonna hurt you?” James said.

“Is he?” I rolled my eyes.

“Are you trying to get back at me by dating him?” 

“Not everything is about you. If you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere else to be.” I responded.

“You’re going to regret this June, you’ll come back to me crying.” 

As if.

I walked out to the courtyard and saw Jules running towards me.

“June! Have you seen it??” 

“Seen what?” 

“Adrien’s post,” 

I frowned.

“No?” 

She shoved her phone into my hand before I could say anything else.

The screen lit up.

Under the bright stadium lights, a girl in a red jersey was hugging a guy in matching colors.

I recognized the hair tie.

It was me and Adrien.

How did he even get a picture?

“It’s so cute.” Jules squealed.

It was. It looked so intimate.

It looked real.

A song played softly over the post. It was H.E.R by Daniel Caesar. 

The caption read, “double wins.” 

I blinked.

“Everyone is loving it.”

“When did he post it?” I asked, my voice higher than intended.

“A few minutes ago.” 

I handed the phone back slowly.

“He didn’t tell me he was going to post it.” 

“Does that bother you?” Jules asked.

I paused.

“No,” I replied.

And I meant it.

I just hadn’t expected it.

I checked the post on my phone.

I looked at the way my hands rested against him.

At how close we looked.

The angles were right, it looked intentional.

I looked at the comments.

“She won”

“Oh they were real??”

“Since when??”

“That’s my girl!” That was Jules’ comment. 

I locked the screen.

“Like I said, you’ve made your debut.” Jules winked at me.

“Hi Mrs Adewale.” I greeted her mum as we reached her car.

“June honey. How are you?” She greeted.

“I’m okay.” 

“Bye Mrs Hayes!” Jules said, not quietly, loudly.

Some people turned to look.

My cheeks had been tinted red.

I texted Adrien.

“Why didn’t you tell me before you posted that picture?”

Three dots appeared not long after.

“Oh, I didn’t think it was that deep. Sorry.”

Of course he didn’t, he had nothing to lose.

“Is there a problem?”

He added.

“No.”  I responded.

“Good. 

You want access June, this is what it looks like.”

I paused.

He wasn’t wrong.

This was what I wanted.

He started typing.

“People believe what they see.”

“What do they see now?”  I replied.

He responded : 

“They see us.”

This was a part of it.

Visibility. 

Access.

As I walked home, I couldn’t help but think about the post.

Now that the noise had faded, my thoughts became louder.

Adrien had a following since he was an athlete and a player for a beloved club in north London.

This lie isn’t staying small.

And for the first time, I wondered if I could keep it under my control.