I was lying on my bed, a big notepad resting on my bent knees as the pencil clutched in my hand flew over the paper.

I wasn't even aware of what I was drawing, my mind too hung up on the events of Friday night to pay attention to much else.

It was a Sunday evening, two whole days since I last saw or talked to Jake, not for the lack of blonds' trying. As a matter of fact, Jake has been trying to talk to me ever since that night, but each time the phone rang and my mom stuck her head through my door in question, my answer was always the same; no.

I knew that I was probably overreacting, and hurting Jake's feelings in the process, even without my mother's glares that kept intensifying more and more each time she had to lie to Jake.

I knew that come tomorrow, I will have to face the boy whether I wanted to or not, but, even knowing all that, I still felt unable to pick up the phone and answer him.

The truth was that I didn't know what to say, didn't know how to explain my behavior, and my abrupt leave without telling him the truth. I could lie, for sure, tell Jake that I had just been drunk and make some excuse, but even the thought of lying to my friend's face made me ill.

It seemed like all I ever did these days was lie; about who I was and what I wanted, about everything that truly mattered and I couldn't do it anymore.

True, I wasn't exceptionally happy in my old town, since I didn't have any friends, but at least there I felt somewhat free. I didn't have to pretend that I was something that I wasn't, I didn't have to hide in fear of revealing just a bit too much which seemed that it was all I ever did since I came here and met Jake.

So I stayed silent, kept ignoring him until the blond had stopped calling some hours ago, choosing to close myself into my room and do the only thing that never failed to make me happy.

But even that proved useless, as I kept catching myself thinking about Jake, the guilt over my treatment of the boy too big to handle.

It was the first Sunday evening that we were spending apart since the day we met, and Jake's absence made my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.

I threw the notebook aside, the sound of it slamming against the wall before falling to the ground echoing around the silent room, as I jumped from the bed and walked over to the window.

It was a beautiful night, the sky clear of clouds that have permeated it during the last few days; with a million shiny stars blinking happily back at me, as I stared at them.

A chilly breeze flew steadily through the open window, making me shiver, but I didn't mind as it helped in clearing my head, my shoulders finally relaxing and slumping down after a few minutes.

The sound of my bedroom door creaking open drifted to my ears, but I chose to ignore it, figuring that it was my mom, coming to make another attempt at persuading me to get out of the room and get something to eat.

"You drew this?", a soft, male voice asked suddenly, making me jump around at the sound of it only to see Jake standing at the other side of the room with my discarded notebook clutched in his hands and it was only then that it occurred to me that my mom couldn't have been the one to come in as she was working the late shift.

I gulped and looked away in shame, my face going red under Jake's bewildered scrutiny, as I glimpsed at the notebook and saw which drawing Jake was talking about.

It was an image of him, one of my most precious memories of the blond. We have been hanging out at Jake's room that day, goofing around and watching TV, until I realized that Jake had fallen asleep when he stopped answering my dibs.

He was lying in his bed, both hands tucked under his head with a ghost of a smile still gracing his lips. His hair was as wild as usual, blond tresses falling over his forehead and I remember how much I had wanted to let my fingers slide through them, imagining just how soft they would feel beneath my fingertips.

But I did no such thing, of course, and instead sat at the chair opposite the bed, with a clear view of Jake and just watched him for a while. It might have seemed creepy of me, but I didn't care, my eyes glued to Jake's beautiful face completely unable to look away.

It was the exact moment I realized that I was in love with Jake, that these strange feelings I always got when around him were not just that for a friend or a simple crush. It was more, and as I sat in that chair and stared at the slumbering boy, I pulled my notebook out of my backpack and started to draw, wanting to preserve that image forever.

"George?", Jake whispered, pulling me out of the memory.

"How did you get here?", I asked, choosing to ignore Jake's question, as my mind raced to come up with an explanation for that stupid picture.

Jake watched me for a second or two, his eyes searching my face for something, as I stood there, feeling petrified. Jake was there, and no matter how much I've tried to delay this, it was inevitable, we were going to talk.

"Your dad let me in.", Jake eventually said, his piercing blue eyes never leaving mine and making me feel like he was able to see right through me, as he took a step closer making me inadvertently take a step back.

He noticed and frowned, his eyes glancing from me to the notebook still in his hand, before they came back, some strange emotion flashing through them as he did so.

"What's going on George? Why have you been ignoring me?", he asked after I kept silent for too long.

"Did I do something? Please, just talk to me, because I don't understand. I thought we were friends."

I closed my eyes at the words and sighed, turning my back to him as I realized that I could not tell Jake the truth.

"I am sorry for ditching you that night. It had nothing to do with you, you did nothing wrong. I was just drunk and emotional, that's all.", I managed to say through clenched teeth, every word coming out of my mouth like a stab through my chest. I felt like a coward, more than I ever did before, but just the thought of losing Jake was enough to silence those thoughts.

"So why did you ignore me afterward?", Jake asked after coming around to face me. I looked up, unable to help it; Jake's face always pulling me in like a beacon.

"I don't know...", I started, averting my eyes to the ground, "I guess I felt embarrassed."

A small silence followed my statement, broken only by a loud sigh coming out of Jake's mouth. I chanced a quick look at him, hoping that the blond had believed me, but when I did so, I found myself staring into the big, blue orbs of my friend, much closer to me than they previously were.

My breath hitched at the sudden change in our proximity, as the space between us shrank to almost non-existent. I could feel Jake's breath on my parted lips with the boy's every exhale, his scent so strong then that my mind became dizzy.

Jake was staring at me, that same, strange emotion now painted in every part of his face, as he took another, tiny step closer making our bodies connect.

"J...Jake?", I stumbled over my words, blinking a few times as all my senses went into overdrive at the feel of that strong, muscled body touching my smaller one.

Jake's eyes fell on my lips for just a second before coming back to my eyes, and if I hadn't been watching him so intently, I would have missed it.

But I didn't miss it, and just that one glance made my brain shut down completely because that was the only explanation for what Jake did next, thinking that I must have started to hallucinate.

I saw Jake's hand coming up to my face, one of his fingers slowly descending on my bottom lip that was trapped between my teeth, the barely-there touch releasing it from its confines. I breathed out softly at the contact, something between a sigh and a moan escaping my throat, which was silenced in the next second, as warm lips fell over mine.