Chapter Text
If someone were to ask Karl Jacobs what love is, he could list all tropes known to literature. The love triangle, the fake relationship, the enemies to lovers, the childhood friends; all of which are novel worthy and rather fictional. He could tell the Webster definition of love, including the other eight listed on there, one of which mentions tennis. He knows a bit about tennis. Karl could even illustrate the chemical composition of love, where it can be manufactured in any lab, however an overdose on the combination of dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin can lead to literal insanity. The point is, he likes to think he knows what love is.
He is, as his closest friends George and Niki would say, a textbook. He’s the typical smart kid with a SAT score that’ll send him to any Ivy League. He spends his days reading up on the latest research article on ScienceDirect. Monday’s paper involved climate models and whether or not they support current migration, not that anyone would ask, but if they did, he knew about it.
However, as much of a “nerd” he may seem, George and Niki would also mention that he’s talented in the arts department. He knows music theory down to the T. He even shares a name with one of the most defined theorists out there, Karlheinz Stockhausen. His hands are graced with the ability to play nearly any instrument he can get his hands on, despite never having the time or room to take a band class. He’s self taught, much like everything else he knows. But that’s besides the point.
It’s a Tuesday morning and Karl Jacobs is currently shoulder to shoulder with two bickering nimrods.
“I mean, if someone sent me a handwritten letter out of recycled paper and sealed it with wax, I’d be floating on a cloud, but here you are complaining,” George says with a scoff.
George and Niki had been arguing back and forth over a certain love letter Niki had received in her locker yesterday. It was from none other than Mr. Wilbur Soot, who was arguably the embodiment of the word indie.
Niki rolls her eyes and answers back, “He does this for every girl he sets his eyes on, I’d be better off getting a text asking me to send nudes.”
Karl giggles, he wouldn’t know what that’s like, but he can only assume that this is the only time it would be acceptable to receive one. The three of them cut the corner to the main hall.
“The next time you get a dick pic, you better call me shouting with joy as if it were Christmas morning,” George teases before stopping at his locker.
Karl waves him goodbye as Niki mumbles an insult under her breath. It never bothered him that they were always arguing over something, in fact, he found it rather entertaining. It brought excitement to his groggy mornings. The two of them continue making their way down the hallway, weaving through other students.
“He’s just mad that he isn’t living the Victorian dream,” Karl compensates, seeing as Niki still had her arms crossed.
“Okay, but he’s snapping the football captain. What a tragedy,” Niki groans.
Karl shushes her and looks around to see if anyone has heard. They were supposed to keep that private knowledge a secret - in fact, they weren’t supposed to know, but any secret to one was extended to the three. The man they speak of was rather popular among the student body, however, Karl had not a clue of what he looked like, so he’d rather play it safe.
“Keep your voice down,” Karl scolds. Niki presses her lips into a thin line.
“Sorry, sorry. It’s just a shame he moved from Britain, is it too late to send him back?”
They’ve made it to their lockers now; they’re side by side unlike George’s. Karl shoots her a look mimicking a motherly tone as he opens his locker and slips his bag off his shoulders, “His return date was a year ago, sorry.”
George had only recently become their friends, however, he grew onto them fairly quickly as Karl considers him to be one of his bestest friends, not that he had many, but still. Niki on the other hand, has known Karl since their wee years. As Niki would point out, she knew him before Karl even knew himself, and as little as that makes sense, Karl understood.
He’s grabbing his books when Niki nudges him. Using his wrist to adjust his glasses, he notices two men make their way down the hall. His eyes fall on the blonde one. He wears his varsity jacket proudly along with his smile. A pep in his step, and a gallon jug of water in his hand, Karl’s pretty sure this is the culprit to the snapchat scandal.
To his interest, though, Karl has his eyes on the other. To the man’s left is a shorter, brunette boy. His jacket is draped over his shoulder, barely hanging on, revealing a navy blue sweater with a white collared shirt underneath. His shoulders are laid back, and his eyes are engaged with the conversation at hand between the two of them. He’s closer to Karl and Niki’s side, and Karl could ever so faintly smell the brunette’s cologne. They finally pass by, but Karl’s still following them until they’re out of sight.
“That’s…” Karl trails off, wanting Niki to confirm his suspicion.
“Dream and Sapnap. More importantly, the one George is snapping is the blonde one.” She explains.
Clay, or more commonly known as his nickname Dream, is the captain of the school’s all star football team. He’s the one who George managed to get his snap after the game last Friday. How he did it, Karl will never know, but what mattered was that George got it and had been constantly in conversation with him. To Dream’s dismay, George was asked to keep the exchange a secret. However, as Karl and Niki knew, this wasn’t a secret to them.
“Dream and who?” Karl asks, not knowing the latter.
Niki shuts her locker, “Sapnap. You know, his best friend? George told us this, they’re practically attached at the hip.”
What George failed to mention was the fact that this Sapnap was… was something else. Karl didn’t know if it was the cologne or the sense of style opposing typical jockwear that caught his interest, but whatever it was, it made Karl’s heartbeat heighten a tad bit more. Before Karl could go more into thought about this “Sapnap”, the bell rings, signaling that there was a minute before they’d be counted late.
Snatching the books he needed, he shuts his locker and speedwalks with Niki to their first block. He’s convinced the sudden racing of his heart was from the fear of being late to class, but when he makes it to class and slips into his desk, he can’t help but wonder about Sapnap.