Blue Howard (boyxboy)

Mysterious and mischevious

I see how unsure he is and I want to jump up and run to him to comfort him, to hug him, to kiss him, but I can't, because he and I are not 'we'.

"It's silly, I'm no writer," he apologizes and smiles nervously. "I'm sorry."

The professor is leaning against the lectern, one hand on his hip. He looks annoyed. "Just read it. We're all accepting and won't judge you for who you are not, which is, in this case, a writer, as you put it."

"You are a mix tape of my top three favourite songs

With the bass line of my heart

We breathe the same air, but

I sometimes also want to give you my part

You are the flower the beast keeps locked away

You are the painful end, the beautiful middle and the wonderful start

I'm not into Belles, that you know

Because you were the one with the good eye and dart

You struck ten and the clock struck twelve

That's when our roads wound apart-

He stops and lets his eyes travel across the room. I have covered my mouth with my hand, inside my head I am screaming, trying to keep the real tears from rolling down like wild springs from the mountains.

"You drove away in my car, music blasting

I had once thought that we were ever-lasting

Now I can't think at all

I am the confused beast at a royal ball

Instead of a shoe you left the dart

Instead of a goodbye, you took me apart."

The class is still silent, and an annoying tear has escaped my eye.

"Again, I'm no writer," he says to fill the awkward silence.

"One does not have to be a writer in order to be a poet," the professor marked in a neutral tone, which left me confused whether he meant it as a compliment or just a side comment. "Take a seat then."

Anton furrows his eyebrows, but then does as told, his shoulders shrink as he sits down and I think he feels uncomfortable. I wipe the tear angrily away and go on with my life. It's not like it was anything special. Maybe he's in an argument with that girl.

Don't get your hopes up, Howard.

I go to the cafeteria and I already see Evan in his oversized weird coat, Jocelyn who is under the spell of a book, again. But I don't see Emma. I grab lunch, which is this time cheese fries and chocolate milk, and go over to my friends.

"How was class?" Evan asks and there is a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"I still don't understand why you're so suspicious. Did something happen? Did you get an A for a report or something?" I ask.

He snorts. "Life is so much more than an A on a report, but in fact I did get a good grade. But it's not that. Didn't you notice I got a new piece of clothing?" He winks and runs a hand over his shoulder. "It is really comfy."

"Don't worry, he has been like that since he sat down on that chair," Jocelyn mumbles not looking up from the book. "Just embrace his happiness." She twirls her fork inside her salad and then takes a bite.

"Exactly," Evan nudges me. "Why you gotta hate?"

I squint my eyes. "I don't like this coat. It's making you gansta. You're changing, man," I say.