A Vampiric Love Story (manxman)

An Adonis

Hey everyone! So I hope you enjoy this chapter. The picture above is not mine and no I have no idea what school building that is and if there is an actual school where my character goes. Oh well ^^ Also italics means what someone is thinking in their head by the way.

Chapter 1

(Riley's POV)

This is finally my last year of high school. Let me introduce myself! My name is Riley Harte and I live in Montana right next to the border of Canada and the Rocky Mountains. I'm 17 years old with black hair and hazel eyes. I'm 5'6 and 110 pounds wet so I'm kind of tiny. I'm a senior at Moosehill Heights and I am totally popular! NOT.

I'm the school punching bag since my friends in middle school decided to tell the whole state that I like guys. Yup, thats right, I'm gay and proud of it! I just love those muscles that could just hold you tight and make you feel so loved and protected. I'd swoon over beef cake arms any day of the week. I've just never been interested in girls I guess. I don't talk much so I'm pretty much invisible unless someone accidentally knocks me over; which sadly, isn't hard. 

Well, like I said before this is my final year! Yeah, I know, I'm 17 and may seem a little behind but that's because my home life is... difficult. I've worked hard to get to this point.

Man, talking to myself in the mornings is draining. I should have grabbed food before I left, I sighed for like the sixth time and it wasn't even 8:00am yet.

Yeah, because there is totally food in the house anyway brain! 

I readjusted my worn out black backpack that had a hole in the front pocket which also didn't allow the zipper to work. Good thing I have two other pockets! I quickly grabbed my books, since I already got my schedule from the front desk, and shoved them into my backpack. I knew I had to hurry because if I was caught in the hallway by-

"Well, well, well. Look who made it to the first day of school boys!"

Evil is his name. Just kidding it's Braden but I'm sure the spelling for either is close. He's my biggest tormentor with his little cronies. Braden is about 6'0, has brown hair and eyes and is on the football team as the quarter back. So yes, he is popular and is my living nightmare. His two friends, also on the football team, are Mitchel who is also 6'0 with blonde hair and green eyes (so cute and yet so evil) and Thomas who is 5'11 and also has brown hair and eyes. They all gave me sadistic smiles before I was slammed into my locker. The wind was knocked out of me and before I could think Braden punched me square in the jaw. I landed on the floor before I felt a hard kick from Mitchel and Thomas. The warning bell rang making them stop. 

"See you later fag! Don't worry, we'll make sure this year is so enjoyable for you!" Braden left laughing along with his friends.

At least I held in my tears this time I sighed mentally. I carefully got up, my ribs and jaw aching from the pain. I could already feel bruises forming and I carefully wobbled down the hall trying to get the black spots from my eyesight to disappear. Going to the nurse's office was a pain and I couldn't have them calling my parents. That was not an option.

Stupid jocks! My life isn't hard enough? I took a deep breathe, which only made my ribs hurt and for me to flinch. My first class was English  with Mrs. Periwinkle who is just as you imagine, I'm sure. She's about 80 years old and the nicest little old lady ever! Well she doesn't know I exist either until roll call on the first day, but I'm sure thats because she has to wear half inch thick glasses and doesn't like wearing her hearing aids. 

The only other person I like is my one and only friend Mr. Eric Stormwell and before you get any crazy ideas, yes he is my art teacher (although I guess that doesn't help with the crazy ideas). Eric and I have gone through difficult times together and wound up friends. It was initially because since his wife had died in a tragic car accident three years ago, he became a shell of who he once was. I found him, while on one of my walks trying to get away from my house for a little while, drunk as a skunk. I found out later he was depressed because he was so socially awkward and had severe anxiety that he couldn't even talk to most of the teachers at the school. He was okay with the students since they didn't intimidate him as much and art is a really relaxing subject to him.