Why I Say "I'm in Love With You" (LGBT)

2

*Ethan's P.O.V.*

December 3rd

"But she wasn't around, and that's the thing when your parents die, you feel like instead of going into every fight with backup, you are going into every fight alone." - Mitch Albom

As Asher and his friend repeatedly struck up conversations beside me, and I could tell that they were probably siblings. They didn't really agree on anything, and the girl, whose name I learned was Penny, repeatedly insulted him. I let myself smile as I hung my head, and stopped when we came to room 108.

I opened up the door, holding it open for Asher. Penny had a class she had to find somewhere else in the school. When I shut the door, Asher smiled at me. "You have nice manners, Ethan." I felt my face heat up and took my usual seat. Asher walked up to the teacher, and they exchanged a few words. After a while, Mr. Anderson looked taken aback, then proud. He got an excited look, but it fell when Asher told him something. Then he clamped his shoulder and then pointed over at me. My face lit up, and I distracted myself with pulling out things from my backpack.

Generally, I would wait until after the first period to head to my locker -which Luke told me was right next to Asher's- and then head off to Gym. Which I also had with Asher. But, those were the only two we had together until our eighth period, Art.

Asher walked over, sitting next to me. I pulled out my textbook, and Asher placed his new one on the table. For some reason we all got these textbooks to take home and everything, even though they still belonged to the school.

"Why do we get to have these, but they're still school property?" Asher asked me, as though reading my mind. I shrugged and began following the directions Mr. Anderson had put on the board. But, before I could get much done, Mr. Anderson walked to the front of the room.

"Class!" He said, gaining everyone's attention. I looked up from the textbook and paper I had to fill out and looked at him. He was wearing your typical coaches outfit, a white shirt, and basketball shorts. Mr. Anderson was the football coach but studied to be a Latin teacher. He generally didn't interact with his students much -saying he hated being a Latin teacher. And, when he did, you can guarantee a whole period of getting nothing done, which everyone enjoyed.

"We have a new student. Asher, will you please come to the front of the class?" All of us became confused at that. We have had about two new students in this class alone this semester, and Mr. Anderson had done nothing about/with them. Not that I was complaining about the lack of work I now had to do, but, what made Asher so special? I mean, he was a nice person. Was, pretty attractive....

God, I felt my face heat up even thinking about it.

Asher stood up and walked to the front of the class, standing next to Mr. Anderson. Mr. Anderson smirked, and clamped Asher on the shoulder. But, Asher didn't even flinch.

Mr. Anderson looked at the class. "Class, this is Asher Jackson. He's from Anderson High School in Texas, and I want you to get to know him." Nobody reacted. I don't think anyone knew how to react to that.

"You guys raise your hands, ask a question." Nobody moved a muscle. Mr. Anderson groaned.

"The more questions you ask the less work you have to do." Every hand- except for mine- shot up. I was just glad to get out of doing work. Asher's eyes widened slightly, and I saw that he took something out of his back jean pocket, and began flipping it behind his back. I raised an eyebrow at the action but didn't really pursue any thoughts about it.

Probably just superstition or something, I thought.

Mr. Anderson walked back to his desk and left Asher to himself. Asher quickly put an excited look on his face, and it didn't seem forced. He nodded to a girl in the back row, I think her name was Kayla and smiled.