The Things That Change~
I get it, okay? I get that I'm not supposed to be friends with the emo kids. I get that I'm supposed to hang out with Dylan, and Sam, and all the other guys on the football team. But I just don't know what happened... He just looked so lonely...
It was hot. And when I say that, I mean really hot. I was sitting on the bleachers, catching my breath. God, I hated football practice when it was so hot. I was drenched in sweat, and water from the cooler. My clothes stuck to me in the most uncomfortable way. I was glad Laura wasn't here.
He sat on way down on the other end of the metal benches. Away from practice, and all the bigger guys.
He was kinda small. He didn't look like he had much muscle on him. His skin was a creamy pale color.His brown hair was almost the exact color of almonds. And it looked as if he had a bit of eyeliner, smudged under his eyes.
He was just... Perfect looking. I started thinking, dreaming about him, then. I could imagine him in my arms, holding him close... Bending down for a kiss...
Dude. That the hell, I thought to myself, Okay, man. Think about Laura. Think about how amazing she is at sex... -Cue boner- Ok, maybe not that..
But still. Had I been fantasizing about this... Guy?! Was I gay?
Okay, no. No way was I gay. I couldn't be gay...
Or could I?
I'd seen him look at me. Seen his shocked face, when I looked up at him. Sighed when he quickly looked away.
Oh lord, he was cute. He was tall, and lean. Slightly muscular.His black hair hung in his face, plasted to his head with sweat.
And yes, if you're wondering, I'm gay.
I sat way at the end of the bleachers, with my notebook in my lap. My notebook my my escape. My everything. It was a diary, a sketchbook, and a photo album. It was probably a good thing it had so many pages. Half of it was already filled with my sketches, emotional stories, and photos.
I currently was sketching. It was a monster. A great beast, with teeth, and claws, and spines that ran down it's neck.
"Uh... Hi." It was the guy. I'd seen him around school. But he never seemed like he was very interested in talking to me.
"Hi..." I muttered.
"Um, whatcha drawing..?"
I showed him the picture.
"Wow. That's really good. You're a really good artist." He was starting to sound slightly more comfortable, it seemed.
"Oh, uh, thanks..." I said, blushing.
"Ryan! You've taken a long enough break! Get back to practie!" the guys coach yelled.
"I guess I'd better go. I'm Ryan, by the way." He smiled, and I blushed the tiniest bit.
And that was that. But I promised myself something, then.
I would see him again.
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