The Class Prince

Chapter 4: The Boys

The school gym looked like one that belonged to Olympic trainees. My old school could never afford all the material and equipment they had here. Charlie gave me a quick tour before taking me to the main gym room. Yeah, because they had multiple. I pushed open the door, but as soon as I did, a volleyball came flying my way and hit me on the head. I staggered back, falling flat on my butt.

"My bad!" I heard someone yell over the ringing pain that echoed between my ears.

"Ouch," I mumbled, rubbing my face to make sure nothing was broken. When I looked up, a tall boy stood in front of me. He had Hispanic features: tanned olive skin, chestnut hair, and eyes. He wore a jersey that revealed his muscular arms and round shoulders.

"Are you okay?" he asked, crouching in front of me. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He wriggled his fingers so close to my face my eyes unfocused. I pulled my head back.

"Four," I mumbled.

A smile stretched on his face, and he looked over his shoulder, raising a thumb.

"It's okay, Scott, I didn't kill him!"

Another student — who I assumed was Scott — jogged towards us.

"Give him some space, Trevor," Scott said, pulling the first student away from me. The two students argued, and I couldn't help but notice the funny contrast in their features. Scott had fair, satiny skin, and his eyes were a beautiful shade of cerulean. He was lean, while Trevor's body was more toned, but they were both tall and fit. Strangely, their opposite attributes complemented each other. They shared two qualities: they were both tall and handsome.

"I told you to watch your aim. You're supposed to hit the ball across the court, not hit someone in the face," Scott scolded him.

"What can I say? My babies are strong." Trevor grinned, planting a kiss on his biceps.

Scott rolled his eyes and turned towards me. The lines on his face softened, and I felt like I was staring at an angel.

"Sorry about my friend." He smiled sheepishly.

"Best friend," Trevor coughed. Scott ignored him and helped me on my feet.

"You're Desmond, right?"

I nodded.

"Scott," he introduced himself. "The guy making out with his biceps is Trevor. And it seems like you've already met Charlie. You're the transfer student, right?"

"Unfortunately, yes." I smiled shyly.

"Welcome to Ivory High," Scott beamed, picking up the volleyball and tucking it under his arm, looking like a model without even trying to. "If you need any help, I advise you to steer clear from Trevor and come directly to me or Charlie. We'll help you out."

"What do you mean steer clear from Trevor?" his best friend snapped. "I can be just as helpful as you and Cha."

"You don't even know how to tie your shoes," Scott sighed. Trevor stole his volleyball, and they wrestled and fought. I didn't know if they were fooling around or trying to kill each other. We heard someone blow a whistle. A short, chubby man with an unshaven beard walked to the center of the room. He narrowed his eyes at us.

"What are you four ladies standing at the door for? You can gossip about your period cramps after you get changed. Come on, let's go, hustle!"

We quickly moved.

"That's Mr. Harrison, our P.E teacher," Scott whispered.

"Um, he's a little..."

"Sexist?" Charlie completed.