Chapter 21

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{ꔫ NASH ꔫ }

charcoal is all over Nash's fingers, feeling the dryness and powderiness with it; sweater sleeves are pulled up when he is finally done with his canvas. He then takes a couple of steps back to examine the drawing he worked so hard on. The charcoal made it messy, but it added personality by making the smudging look like the face was forming into something or nothing like mist. He tilts his head, making some of his blue hair, which had been a deep blue, turn into a sky blue and fall into his eye. 
 
 
Nash moves his hair out of his face with the back of his to avoid charcoal going everywhere before mumbling, "Huh, it looks like..."
 
 
"Damn, that guy messed you up real nice, huh?" Archie pats Nash on his back with some force as they both gaze at Nash's canvas in front of them.
 
It's a quiet day in the art room with Nash, Archie, Penny, her friends, and some other random art kids that are 101% queer in some way. Penny's group is the loudest. That bitch can't whisper for sh*t, but normally he just blocks them out. Today is no different, though it's nice to see how short Penny's hair is because of Val.
 
Sam is staring straight back at Nash in only gray and black tones on his canvas. His nicely parted, short, curly hair matched his thick eyebrows. He has nice siren-shaped brown eyes, a slim nose with full lips, and a sharp jawline that lays flat on the bottom where the chin is given a more masculine look. One side of his face is smeared with Nash's fingers, making the charcoal blur his face as though no one knows that side of him, not even himself. Nash rushes to his stand and flips it over so he doesn't see it, and no one sees it with him. 
 
"Hey, don't do that! It's a masterpiece of art." Archie protests with the gesture of being offended, even though it's not even his drawing. “Show your true feelings, man." 
 
"Hell no, Sam is well known, and people will see this and find out we had... something.” Nash shakes his head. “Or I'm just obsessed; I don't know which is worse.”
 
"Since when did you care about what a bunch of assholes and gossips thought?" 
 
"He is not even talking to me anymore." Nash bites back, crosses his arms, and sits down, feeling like a leaf that had just been blown by the wind. Nash can see Archie's face of disappointment in the way his lips twist into a frown and his eyebrows knit together. "Oh, for real?"
 
With a long sigh, Nash replies, "For real."
 
"Did he say why? I mean, there has to be a reason besides him just being douchey. You never know. You know?"
 
"Pft, like he'd even answer me. He couldn't even look me in the eye yesterday."
 
"Maybe you should try and express to him how you feel." Archie suggested, "If he isn't going to answer, he can at least listen."
 
"Maybe." Nash picks at his sweatpants nervously.
 
"He can't read your mind, Nash." 
 
"I know that," Nash answers, even though it feels like he doesn't know. What does he know anymore? He doesn't know if Sam is gay or bisexual. He doesn't know if he even likes Sam as a person after completely ignoring him like a ghost. He doesn't know if Sam cares if he is trans or finds it gross, even though he said he supported it. He doesn't know what Sam goes through in general or what goes through his head most of the time, barely opening up about family problems, which is valid. With Sam's dad, what if he found out about it? He's religious and holds homophobia, sexism, and transphobia close to him. 
 
Nash picks up his canvas and flips it over. Well, at least right now, he can stare at Sam, even if people might see and recognize him. Sam built off of just his imagination. Maybe this Sam will be nicer, less complicated, and more communicative. But all those qualities make him human; the flaws make him beautiful; and Nash also loves those parts of him, even though they might not be the best.
 
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Nash can't help himself; he's drawing again, but this time in a sketchbook. He's stressed with all of this love life going on. All three pages are already ripped out, and still, all the faces he draws remind him of Sam in some way. It's always the lips. How they rest with the ends curling up. like he's always smirking in some secretive way. Normally all Nash thinks about is giving backhanded comments with his mouth, but last Friday night he was so vulnerable, soft, and turning eager and hot. 
 
Tear
 
Another page wasted to go into his trash can, another drawing reminding him of a man he loves so much. Nash buries his head in his hands. Why can't he stop thinking about Sam even after avoiding him? Men are so complicated, and since Nash can be around women his whole life, it's harder for him to relate to the boys around him. This gives off this overly feminine image, making others who don't understand it disgusted and avoiding them too. No, being gay and trans is complicated; there are things you have to do to ‘pass’, and don't get him started on stereotypes. 
 
Nash hears a soft knock on his door, and he turns to see Val coming in with a soft, sympathetic smile. She doesn't know the full story, but she knows something happened when Nash asked for makeup when he got home after practice to cover a small bruise. Ever since she caught on to them not talking about Nash being in his room and just acting so differently, 
 
"Can I use your phone?" She asks with an innocent look on her face. 
 
"Why?" This can't be good, he thinks to himself, narrowing his eyes at her. 
 
"My phone is dead, and I need to use yours because I need to tell my friend to pick me up in 5."
 
Nash rolls his eyes and says, "Okay, but if you tell Mom I snuck my phone back, I'll kill you." 
 
"Okay, grumpy.." she mumbled, leaving with Nash's phone. The door clicked behind her. Nash's jaw clenches; it's hard to trust her after her stunt on Friday, though he can't blame her; he did the same thing except he just told off Mark instead of inviting the man over. The voice in the back of Nash's head whispers to him not to trust her with his phone, but he shuts that down. Val would never. 
 
He knows she likes to do his dirty work and get into his business, trying to fix everything for him, but this is different. This isn't bullying or someone acting offensive. This is a boy's problem, and she is terrible at love just as much as he is.
 
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