***Skyler's POV***
First day of school.
Here we go.
Okay...
We can do this...
Let's hope people in Miami are more accepting of my general persona that the people in Winthrop...
Like I said, people didn't really like me because I was different. That and the star basketball player of the school (aka my ex) said I was a dork and not worth dating.
Yeah, I am never getting into a relationship with a popular jock ever again... It didn't end very well last time...
Taking a massive deep breath, I grab my bag from the passenger's seat and slip out of the car. The heat hits me like a wave, but it isn't too bad. Different from what I'm used to, but not bad. I put my head down and squeeze the strap of my bag as I start walking towards the building. A couple of people look at me oddly, but it doesn't really go to my head...much. No one really seems to care.
But all that just gets swept aside when I actually go inside the school.
All of a sudden, I have all eyes on me. I seem to stand out like a cat lined up with some grizzly bears.
I shrink back into my oversized sweater, my face turning bright pink. This one group of girls looks almost disgusted. They're dressed in what look like cheerleader uniforms, which are white, gold, and a cyan color. They say DOLPHINS across the chest.
Okay... Cheerleaders already don't like me... This is normal.
That wasn't sarcasm, by the way.
Trying not to look awkward, I reach into my backpack pocket and grab the little slip of paper I had put in there for easy access. It's my schedule and directions to wherever I need to go. The paper says my locker is 140, so...
When I look up, I'm shocked by what I see. Standing a few yards from me and leaning on the lockers is one of the most gorgeous human beings I've ever seen in my whole entire life.
Holy hell.
THIS DUDE is so damn attractive... From what I can see, he has dirty blonde hair and dark blue eyes. He's a little bit tan, but not that over-tan where you just look too tan. (You know what I mean.) I'm not sure who the hell he is, but he has the body of a toned GOD. This may sound weird of me to say, but just remember that I'm a seventeen-year-old gay boy who has only had two boyfriends, the first one of which was in seventh grade and the last one of which was an asshole.
And this isn't even creepy... He is the hottest high school guy I've ever seen...
('Ya know, because Taylor Lautner is a thing.)
But wow...
The guy is laughing and talking with who I'm assuming are his friends. One of then has black hair and hazel eyes, and the other has brown hair and brown eyes. By the way they're joking around, they seem really close.
Lucky...
I wish I had friends like that. The closest to a best friend I've ever come was this one girl in junior year that I found at a dance and talked with all night because we were both socially awkward. That was like a one-night-stand, but with friendship.
Enough of my sad life, this is a new-ish start thingy.
Okay.
So anyway...
My hands shake as I start walking towards my locker, or at least where the numbers increase towards 140. It's going really well, actually.
Until someone plops themselves against the lockers right in front of me, which cuts me off and almost makes me run into them.
Well...him.
"And who are you, shorty?" A tall, muscular-looking guy with black hair, tan skin, and a douchey smirk looks me up and down. Behind him are two guys, one with brown hair and the other with blonde. They're all tall and look like they could very easily play almost every sport ever. "I don't believe I've seen you around here before."
"Uh..." Is that how I answer? No? Uh... "I-I'm Skyler." That's a little bit better...
Only, I forgot I HAVE A STUTTER WHEN TALKING TO PEOPLE I'M NOT FAMILIAR WITH!!!
And at my answer, the boys laugh.
"Yeah, looks like it," The brunette in the back says.
What's that supposed to mean?
"Well, hey, Skyler. What's that shit you have on your face?" Ohhhh, I get it now. This is the school asshole and these are his little goons.
Every high school has them.
"Wait," The blonde in the back interjects, "is it a guy or a girl?"
HEY!!!
I TAKE OFFENSE!!!
"Oh, good point, Seth. We should probably establish what the hell's going on before we get into the makeup." Ouch... Harsh...
I've been here four minutes and I'm already getting bullied...
That's record time, I'd say.
***Ryan's POV***
"There is no way that Star Trek is better than Star Wars!"
"Well, there's no way that Black Sabbath is better than ACDC!"
"You're both wrong. Spaceballs is the best and Aerosmith rules."
"Holy shit, I think Ryan's right..."
"Of course I'm right, Dylan, I always am."
Dylan rolls his eyes at me and Charlie and I laugh at him.
My two best friends and I have a fascination with stupid arguments. It's really just a common pastime between spray-painting walls and playing music down at the burger house in our band.
Yes, this may seem cheesy, but Dylan, Charlie, and I have a band. We mostly do covers of classic rock songs, maybe an occasional rock or pop-rock song, but sometimes we try to write our own songs. We haven't performed any of them, but we have about twelve now that we've written and recorded. I play guitar and do co-vocals. Charlie sings with me while playing bass. Dylan prefers to be in the back on drums. I'd say we're pretty decent, but a couple of the stuck-up girls in this school would like to disagree. But that's just because they listen to Billie Eilish and Ariana Grande and they hate bands like Guns 'N Roses and Bowling for Soup. Granted, they haven't even seen the movies The Breakfast Club or Say Anything, so...
How reliable can they really be for an opinion?
Exactly. Not very reliable.
"Woah, man, what's your brother doing?" Charlie points behind me and Dylan and I turn. Behind us, my ass of a brother, Aryn, and his idiotic friends are picking on some small kid.
Woah...
That small kid...
He's cute.
The boy Aryn is shoving around looks like a lost puppy, or at least looks like he hasn't been around here before. He's short with a little demeanor. He's got fluffy black hair with a dark purple streak coming out from under his black beanie. His skin is pale with freckles over his nose and rosy cheeks. He's standing in a very guarded position, with his arms over his chest and hands clinging to his backpack strap, very straight posture, and a sheepish expression.
And Aryn is the jerk laughing at him.
I swear, twin brothers are a fucking hassle...
But at least we don't look like twins! Thank God for that!
I hate being associated with that bully...
"Who's that new kid?" Dylan looks over Charlie's shoulder, trying to get a better view.
"He looks like a freshman," I mumble.
"More like fresh meat. He's gonna get torn up here if he looks like that," Charlie chimes in.
"I think he's cute."
"Ry, he's half your size and looks four years younger than you. You're eighteen, you can't date a minor like that!"
"Okay, you need to chill out. It's not that big of an age gap and I'm not saying that I want to date him." I'm also not saying that I don't not want to date him...
"I don't know if he's a freshman... I mean, yeah, he's small, but he doesn't look that young." Charlie leans against the lockers with a shrug.
"Either way, Aryn's being a dick."
"I wish I wasn't twins with that asshole... He picks on anything that breathes."
"What should we do?"
"This." The boys look at me with confused smiles as I turn around to face Aryn, the guys, and the cute new boy.
Okay, I have my mechanical pencil locked and loaded.
"Aryn!" I toss my pencil over at him and it hits him in the head. As soon as the pencil makes contact with the back of his head, I see him take in an annoyed breath. The hallway gets a little quieter when Aryn turns around a little bit and glares at me. "Hey, bro, can you pass me my pencil?" Charlie and Dylan snicker quietly behind me as I look at Aryn with an innocent smile.
"Che diavolo c'è di sbagliato con te? Perché sei così fottutamente fastidioso? [What the hell's wrong with you? Why are you so fucking annoying?]" Aryn gets mad at me in Italian, which is something he regularly does. You see, he's an ass to everyone else, but I call him out for it, which makes him angry at me 24/7.
"Come on, Aryn, cuss me out in English. Don't be a pussy about it." I welcome the criticism with open arms, but he just rolls his eyes at me. "Aw, what's the problem, compagno [buddy]? I'm only asking for my pencil."
"You...are insufferable, Ryan."
"Mhm, and?" I laugh when he picks my pencil up and chucks it at me. Aryn flicks me off as he stomps off with his little minions behind him, leaving me and my friends laughing at him.
But the cutie...he looks like a confused panda bear. We've gone from lost puppy to confused panda. When he finally notices I'm looking at him, his face goes bright red and he freezes like a deer in headlights, holding my gaze for a few seconds before looking back down at a paper he has in his hands and quickly walking away.
That's a lot of animal similies, just in case you weren't counting.
"That was great, man!" Dylan pats my back, still laughing his ass off.
"Yeah, yeah, let's just get to class." I yank his shirt to follow Charlie and me down the hallway. I swear, if I hadn't had his sleeve in my hand, he would've gone headfirst into some lockers.
The three of us make our way to our first class, which is English, aka McNamara Hell. The teacher, Mrs. McNamara, is really strict and pretty rude to us. She takes grammar and literature to a whole other level, like something you've never seen. It's surreal.
Everyone hates her, but the way. Even the teacher's pets don't like her, and they suck up to and love every teacher.
The boys and I take our regular seats in the back left corner of the class. McNamara is already scowling at everyone who walks into the classroom, as per usual. Most people just ignore her.
But my eyes get a little wider when I see one person in particular walk through the doors.
"He's a senior!?" All three of us turn to each other and whisper-yell it at the same time.
The cutie is a senior!?
What...!?
BUT HE'S SO SMALL AND ADORABLE-
Cutie approaches the teacher and I wince.
"Hi, ma'am, I'm Sky-"
"Take a seat, I know who you are." She waves him off without even looking up, and he's momentarily stunned.
All I heard was 'Skye'. Is his name Skye?
I'll call him Skye.
Skye turns to face the classroom and, once again, we make eye contact. And, once again, he goes bright pink in the face. Skye puts his head down and walks to the back of the room. In order to get to the seat he's headed towards, he gets close enough for me to smell the white jasmine body wash he probably uses.
What? My first job was in Bath and Body Works... And I love spending time there because everything smells nice...
Skye sits in the very right corner of the room by the window, probably because no one's sitting there.
Let's see how many classes I have with the cutie- I mean Skye.
Jesus Christ, the things I would do to him...
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