Smile On His Lips and Cuts On His Hips (Jalex)

Two - Everyday Accident

I banged my head against the locker door, metal assaulting my obsessively styled fringe. Groaning, I took a step back, eying the annoying locker before me. The green lock was shut, known combination refusing to work, adamantly locking me out.

Glancing to my left, I saw Zack and Rian practically skipping down the hall, intertwined hands swinging between them. A smile cracked my face because, locker troubles or not, those two really were adorable.

They’d been together since just after the start of last year, when Zack finally grew the balls to ask out the little nerd he’d been crushing on since second semester of freshman year. It had taken excessive amounts of persuasion and prodding on my part, but the final product seemed to be worth it.

Rian was one of the white kids whose parents seemed to be secretly Asian, considering anything below an A complete failure while forcing the boy to learn eight languages and drown in extracurricular activities. So that might be a bit of an exaggeration, but the buzz cut boy did have straight As, and speak Spanish, French, and Latin, along with being the captain of the drum line. Something that he was embarrassingly proud of.

He was also a germaphobe, obsessively cleansing his hands before even thinking about touching anything soon to go in his mouth. He refused to touch bathroom door handles, since they were ‘the dirtiest object in any building’ and stayed approximately ten miles away from anyone who so much as sniffled, or had slightly puffy eyes.

I wasn’t sure how Rian justified swapping spit with Zack, due to the aforementioned trait, but they sure did it often enough. More so than I'd like, not that I had a say in it.

Zack and Rian were, basically, the only couple I knew where there wasn’t a specified dominant partner. Despite his childish, stupid tendencies, Rian loved nothing more than throwing his arm around his muscled boyfriend and treating him like a spoiled princess. And Zack could often be seen carrying Rian around the back field during gym when he was too lazy to run, ignoring the angry shouts they received from the gym teachers. Everyone knew they didn’t really give a fuck what their classes did, anyways.

“Having trouble?” Zack called, pulling his boyfriend into his side as they stood before me.

I grunted in response, spinning the dark green knob angrily, harsh tug acquiring nothing.

“Let me try,” Rian commanded, pushing me out of the way and snatching the paper designating my locker number and combination. His swift fingers manipulated the lock, swinging to 24, 26, and 20, before pulling it open with a smug grin.

“What kind of locker ninja are you?” I asked, shooting him a half annoyed, half grateful look as I shoved my beaten black backpack into the crammed space, too lazy to bother pulling out any of my books. It was the second day of school; all I had so far was a pencil case and notebook, anyways.

I’d learned - after the stumbling disaster that was first year - that teachers are idiots, and want exactly the opposite school supplies as demanded by the back to school list. So I waited until the end of the first week of school when I knew what every meticulous Mr. or Mrs. wanted, time and money unwasted.

Rian shrugged, grabbing Zack’s hand and whisking him away just as the bell rang, calling over his shoulder, “I’m just that awesome.”

I tried to ignore the fact that Zack had loudly confirmed just how amazing he was, seeing as, though couple was quite cute, it did get old.

I spun around, heading off towards French, seventh period occurring stupidly just after brunch. Whoever thought up the schedule for the first two days of school was an idiot, in my mind. The classes were in a ridiculous order that really helped nothing and completely contradicted the normal schedule. But, hey, who cares what I think.