This story involves homosexual relationships between minors. If this is illegal in your area, please do not read on. This story is a work of fiction. Any characters, places, events, ideas, etc. in this story are strictly fiction and do not exist. This story is (c) 2008 Aikenliam. Any and all rights reserved. If you have questions, comments, or suggestions, please feel free to email me at aikenliam@ymail.com.
So as I'm sitting here, trying to figure out how to start this chronicle of the latest events of my life, I guess I'll just start with me. I suppose it would help the reader to know about the main character of a story, so here I go. I'm a junior in high school. I'm not very popular, but pretty much everyone knows me and I can be nice to anyone. However, this wasn't always the case. My junior high years were clearly my worst years. Here in the little town of Greenwood, you have to be a skinny athlete with rich parents to be popular. I had neither of those qualities. I was a fat, poor kid with three friends. I was picked on, wasn't popular, and I just didn't fit in anywhere. To make matters worse, I couldn't escape my woes at home. My older brother constantly picked on me, using his fist more than once. My parents were pretty supportive of me, though they were busy. My mother worked from six in the morning to midnight. My father worked nights, but slept during the day.
This all changed the summer after my eighth grade year. We were moving! This news made me completely happy. We ended up moving away from the "ghetto." This move was not just away from the house or area, but ended up letting us move away from our ways. Living in a bad house, in a poor community, we really didn't do much to improve. The light was just too far away in the tunnel. So after we moved to a nicer house, we did a complete turnaround, taking care of our house, our land, and our lives. Not only did this change my view on things, but during the course of my freshman year, I lost about 150 pounds.
You may be wondering what kept me going throughout these tougher years, and I have an answer. I couldn't have done this without music. As embarrassing as it is to admit, my father played the banjo. And he was good at it (if you can be good at a banjo..haha..). When he was in school, he also played cello. So in fifth grade when the middle school orchestra teacher came to visit us, I immediately jumped on the idea of joining orchestra. I had my sights on playing the cello. But during the meeting, I had a revelation! If I pick the violin, I could carry it while I'm riding my bike! So I picked the violin. Haha...after realizing how stupid this decision was, I wish I had chosen the cello. But I'm afraid that if I had chosen the cello, I wouldn't enjoy listening to them as much as I do now. Besides playing the violin, I listened to pretty much any music that reached my ears, and played any piano I could get under my fingers.
I continued to play the violin throughout my high school years, and pretty much can't wait for orchestra class. I just got a piano last year, so I've been practicing up on that, too. I've lost more weight, too. But what really helped me was joining journalism. It allowed me to vent my feelings without much fear, and helped me to break free from a shell that was forming since middle school.
My sophomore year was when it started. The first hour of the first day of sophomore year. It was orchestra. We always played these stupid games that let people get to know each other. We all got in a circle and each person went around and said their name, and one thing that someone might now know about themselves. So when it got to me, I stammered a little,
"Sam Gruselle, I like black licorice."
And on it went, each person telling something about themselves. Then I heard it. It was about halfway around the room. The most soothing voice I've ever heard in my entire life.
"Um..my name's Kyle Holster. Um..I'm wearing socks that don't match."
After he said it, several people giggled a little. I looked over at him, and he had this huge grin on his face. He was sort of looking down at the floor, and looked up, straight at me. I looked away quickly. Oh God. Did he look at me? Did I have that big, goofy grin on my face? Was he blushing? Was I blushing? Is this normal?
Gosh!! All day, I couldn't keep my thoughts away from this boy! As I went through the lunch line, I still had the vision of him in my mind. He was kind of short, but not overly so. He was wearing faded jeans with brown shoes. His t-shirt was tan with some band logo on it. It seemed to hug his slender body, but wasn't too snug. His blond hair swept into his eyebrows and over his ears. His lips curved graciously over his braces. I just couldn't get over how beautiful he was. Was this normal?
Just about the time I thought I got Kyle out of my mind, I walked into my last hour of the day, Journalism. As I sat at the table, waiting for class to start, the door opened to the room, and Kyle walked in. Oh God. Beating heart. Fast. So fast. I looked down at the table. Act busy. My face is hot. I'm blushing. Damn.
"Hey."
So cute. So smooth. Just a little hint of breaking. "THIS BLOWS" is etched on the table.
"Hey," he says again, sitting down across the table from me.
I look up at him. A huge smile is spread across his face. My face is hot. I'm blushing. Damn.
"Hey," I finally say, smiling nervously. Is this normal?
"So you play the violin?"
"Yep. What do you play?"
"Violin. The audition music looked pretty easy. Maybe I'll get a good spot."
"Yeah. She usually picks easy stuff for the first concert."
"That's good. So what are we doing in here? I hear we got a new teacher."
"Yeah. I'm not sure who it is. I think I'm going to shoot for ads editor. I'm not sure, though."
"Oh yeah? That'd be cool. You could like, leave school and stuff."
"Yeah..." I laughed.
Damn. There's that cute smile again. I know I'm blushing. He's blushing, too. What does that mean? Is this normal?
Several other people walked in and started talking. I'd sort of become a cool weird kid. People talked to me and joked around, but I never really fit into a clique. During the rest of the class, I didn't talk much. I said hello to a couple of people, but that was it. I noticed Kyle wasn't talking much, either. He kept looking over at what I was doing. Did he notice me looking at him? Did other people notice me looking at him? Shit. I'm blushing again. Everyone's getting up to leave. The bell rang. Kyle's looking at me with that huge smile.
"Hello?" He laughs.
"Yeah?"
"I said I guess I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah," I smile, "See ya."