We're Not Talking

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---Kyle's pov---

That was the most restless sleep I've ever had. My alarm blared in my ears louder than ever. My head is aching from lack of sleep and all the thoughts swirling and tangling together.

I had a dream where Stan decided he didn't want to be friends with a 'fag.' Then he beat me up and laughed as I cried and asked why.

I sigh and get dressed. Grab my bag and head out the door.

I walk to the bus stop, fresh snow on the ground and a bitter nip of wind in the air.

As I wait at the bus stop, I watch my breath, every time I exhale. Before I know it, were on the bus going to school.

I was sitting by myself today, Stan wanted to sit with Wendy apparently. I sigh as I stare out the window at the passing trees and cars.

I can already tell that Stan doesn't like me like I like him. I didn't even think about Wendy when I decided to confess either. I'm pretty sure he's choosing her over me. Any "normal" guy would, after all, I'm sure Stan's straight.

I get off the bus and the first few hours of the day are a blur. Classes and lessons mushing and fusing together.

Until lunch.

"Kyle? We need to talk."

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