kings ♕ muke

1. Truths

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.

Or, in some cases, just a boyfriend.

-

Five Truths About Michael Clifford:
1. Michael Clifford is the sole heir of the richest family in the city. He could buy my life if he wanted to. He probably already has. Who knows?
2. Nobody actually knows what color hair Michael Clifford has. Since he's as vapid as he is rich, he spends his money dyeing his hair ridiculously flamboyant colors. Because what else is there to do when you're the son of billionaires?
3. Michael Clifford is musically talented. Rumor has it he composes in the band room after hours because he'd rather die than be caught in the band room, because according to him, "the nerd den is disgusting." Ironic, because I heard all he does is sit in his private game room and play League of Legends. Speaking of his game room...
4. The Clifford mansion is ranked among the most exquisite, extravagant houses in the world. Apparently, HGTV came and did an entire special. It took four episodes to cover the house; Michael's room, lounge, personal theatre, game room, and indoor pool took an episode alone.
5. I despise Michael Clifford.

"That last one isn't a fact about Michael, it's a fact about you."

I quickly crumpled the paper and turned to find my best friend Calum grinning at me. "So what? It pertains to him," I snapped, glaring at him.

He shrugged, running a hand through his dark hair. He'd recently dyed the front of it blonde, which irked me; it was as if he was trying to imitate Michael. "I'm just stating the facts, mate."

"Whatever. It's true," I said, turning back around to face the front of the classroom again, smoothing out the scrap of paper I'd been scribbling on and folding it neatly.

"You pay an awful lot of attention to someone you claim you hate," Calum commented, his words slightly muffled around a mouthful of Lucky Charms, which he brought to first period and ate on a daily basis.

I checked to make sure our English teacher, Mr. Dawson, wasn't looking before shooting Calum the finger.

A few moments later, he launched a wad of paper over my shoulder. After it bounced to a stop on my desk, I opened it up.

Your an asshole.

"Wrong 'you're' idiot," I whispered loudly, and he flicked the back of my head as I snickered.

"Shut up, you nerd."

"Mr. Hood, did you have something you wanted to tell the class?"

I buried my face in my arms to hide my laughter as Calum hissed, "I fucking hate you, Hemmings," before answering Mr. Dawson. "No, sir, nothing to say."

Calum was suspiciously quiet for the rest of the class period. For once, I got to pay attention to the actual lecture on Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice.

At the end of the period, Calum handed me a folded piece of messily torn lined paper with a triumphant smile. "I call it, 'Luke needs to get laid.' I think it's pretty great."

I unfolded the paper and examined the drawing. It was hastily drawn sketch of two stick figures holding hands. The one I presumed to be me had hair that was swept up to gravity-defying heights. The other had wilder hair, sticking out in all directions, messy but meticulously so.

I hated to admit it, but Calum had captured Michael's untamable hair perfectly.

"How exactly does holding hands lead to me getting laid?" I asked as the bell rang.

Calum sighed, putting a hand on my shoulder as we walked out of class and joined the rush of students in the hallway. "You haven't gotten laid, so I'll kindly educate you," he said. "You hold hands with the girl, so that she thinks you care. And you do; you care about getting laid. But girls are all about that 'love me for my mind and heart not my body' bullshit, so you have to play along. You hold her hand, and then you kiss, and then you get laid."

"You're a whore, Calum," I said, shaking my head and going to my locker.

Calum squeezed his way between two freshmen and leaned against the lockers. "A whore? Really?"

I raised a disbelieving eyebrow at him and then unlocked my locker.

Calum chewed his lip, contemplating for a moment before he agreed, "Yeah, I guess. But it's not all bad. I get laid."

I swapped my English binder for my biology notebook and gave Calum a serious look. "A whore," I repeated, and Calum grinned.

"Better a whore than a virgin. Have you even kissed a girl?"

"Nothing wrong with being a virgin," I said, shrugging him off.

Calum jumped in front of me, blocking my way to biology. "Holy shit, you're kidding, right? You've kissed a girl, haven't you?"

"Your mum, yeah."

Calum shoved me back, his brown eyes wide, his expression one of disbelief. "You're like, a total virgin. Wow."

I shrugged, trying to avoid his gaze. "Just, uh, not really into any of that."

His mouth dropped open. "Are you even human?"

I rolled my eyes. Calum was my best friend. He was great. He was relatively smart. He was funny. But goddamn, sometimes Calum was a pain in the ass. "Look, I gotta go to bio. We can chat about your whorishness and my prudishness later," I said.

Calum huffed. "Fine." He glanced at the wall clock and hissed, "Shit, I have two minutes to get to maths. See you at lunch for interrogation, you nun."

He took off running down the hall, knocking into a few underclassmen. "Nuns are women!" I shouted after him, and he flipped me off.

I chuckled and walked the rest of the way to biology, going to my usual seat in the corner of the room. I pulled out the paper that Calum had doodled me and Michael onto and turned it onto the blank side.

Five Truths About Me:
1. My name is Luke Hemmings. I am seventeen years old and I am a senior in high school.
2. I've never kissed a girl, never held hands with a girl. But I have a lip ring. That's got to count for something, right?
3. I love English. English is my passion. I love writing and reading and analyzing and basically everything Calum, who's a maths person, hates.
4. I live a normal, middle class life. No fancy mansions, but no shacks either. I'm comfortable and happy, even though my brother brings home tons of fawning girls from uni and they try to hit on me. Which is gross. And I know before I've met any of them I'll reject them all because...
5. I'm gay.