Note: This story is not true by any means, nor based on any real situation; however, the people in this story are in fact real people, but names have been changed to protect those mentioned and myself. All comments or suggestions can be sent to: aero17justin@yahoo.com
Chapter 1: Swear to Shake it Up
As my alarm clock went off at 6:15 am, I rolled out of bed wondering why my alarm clock had gone off so early. I usually do not wake up until 7:15 am, as I don't have to arrive at school until an hour later than anyone else -- the joy of having too many credits and being able to have first period off! But as I stumbled across my room, I stepped on a book and slipped; I hit the ground hard. Dazed and confused, I picked it up: The Princeton Review: Cracking the AP U.S. History Test. Oh yeah, I had my AP exam this morning. I wondered how I forgot, as I took the day before off to study for about seven hours straight.
I keep going until I reached the bathroom. I turned the water on, went to the bathroom, put my contacts in, and stepped out of my boxers and stripped off my t-shirt. Just like everyday, before I stepped in, I turned on my IPOD and got in the shower. I let the warm water cascade over my body, hopefully waking me up in the process. I stepped out, got dressed, ate breakfast, and headed off to school. As far as I knew, today would be totally normal other than my exam.
As I reached the parking lot, I turned off my car and walked up to the school, stopping to talk to friends and other people I knew who would be taking the exam today as well. Because I was late, I went straight to the library and sat down. Trying to get in a few more minutes of study, I opened my book that I had fallen on earlier and immersed myself in the history of the United States. I must have been concentrating pretty hard, because I didn't even notice someone had walked up behind me.
"You know, there's no point studying now; if you don't know it now, you won't know it for the test, moron!"
I turned around smiling. There was only one person who talked to me like that: my best friend Keith. He and I had been best friends since eighth grade; we always laugh about how we hated each other in seventh grade, yet we didn't even know each other. He and I had been through so much together the past four years. In eighth grade, we met for the first time and became best friends; in ninth grade, I had come out to him, thankfully, to a lot of support from him; in tenth grade, we had a falling out after I had a huge fight with the girl that liked him, because I liked him too; and now this year, we reunited and we're back to being as close as ever.
"Yeah, well, at least I know something! You'll be the one crying at the end of it because you'll fail it miserably!"
Failure; I definitely knew what that was like. After Keith and I met in eighth grade, I had fallen head over heels for this kid. Words cannot describe him at all. He is the nicest, sweetest, most caring guy I have ever met; he always knows when I need someone to talk to and he never has problems coming to me when he needs help; he is supportive and funny, with that mixture between manly maturity and boyish immaturity. I didn't know what my feelings were for him, but I always thought I truly did love him. After I told him I was gay, he also found out I liked him. Much to my utter surprise, he had not ended up hating me or hurting me or anything, he was really cool with it and it made me love him even more. But part of my always kept saying that if I waited, I'd get him; but the rest of me knew he would never be mine.
I really wanted to talk to him more, but they had to start the test. However, the seating arrangement had him sitting in front of me, so I couldn't complain, because he liked to turn around and mouth something or smile or make some face to get me to laugh. He knew how stressed out I was about this test, so getting me to laugh would be a Godsend, and he knew how to do it.
Now I won't bore anyone with the details of the exam, mostly because I am not allowed to talk about it, but I will say afterwards, I was mentally drained and exhausted. Keith could tell and I really appreciated the hug he gave me afterwards as he told me I had done a great job and probably passed with flying colors. The rest of the day went by quickly, as the exam encompassed first through fifth periods, so I only had to endure sixth and seventh.
After seventh period, I always meet up with Keith and lot of my other friends, including Keith's girlfriend (Remember that falling out in tenth grade with that girl who liked Keith? Yeah, they started going out shortly after that). Everyone was pretty excited because not only was it Friday, but it was Cinco de Mayo, and the party had manifested itself in my backyard. I got going pretty quickly so that I could get everything ready; in reality, I really wanted it to be perfect for Keith. When Keith approved of something I did, I always felt like I was on Cloud Nine; I had this obsessive need for gratification when I did something.
I had finished getting everything ready in my backyard for the party: coolers were iced down, cups and sodas were out, the streamers and pinata and sombreros were arranged around, the music was going, and the hot tub was warm and bubbling. My backyard looked like one you would see in Home and Garden; we had a beautiful pool and attached hot tub, rocks around the pool with trees and plants, a gazebo in the side corner -- my backyard was home to many parties. Shortly after, everyone began arriving, and the food was brought out. We dug in and sat around, eating and drinking and talking. We swam and sat in the hot tub and as the evening progressed, we found ourselves sitting the gazebo talking.
I wasn't sure what I was expecting to happen that night, but what happened surprised me. Closer to eleven-thirty, only Keith, his girlfriend, and I remained. We were talking about stuff that had been going on at school and out of nowhere, Keith and his girlfriend start fighting. This wasn't unusual, but most of the time, there was more than just me around to see it. Normally, they just fight, make-up, and then that's it, its over; sometimes there's a week or two long breakup, but against, not unusual for them. What happened next surprised me, as Keith's girlfriend, obviously very upset, proceeded to smack him in the face, proclaim their relationship was over, and storm out of my backyard.
Keith was stunned. He had tears in his eyes, but refused to let him fall. I knew he was strong, but something like this tends to get one pretty far down. So I did the only thing I could do, I pulled into a hug, trying to reassure him everything would be okay. I didn't think things would get that shook up at my party....