Different Colors

Yellow//3

Jake

This class is super boring. I know Lark Underwood is checking me out as I write down my world history notes. She's annoying. I constantly get flirted with, checked out, and poked with pencils and tossed love letters across the room. Everything I say, even if it's not even remotely entertaining or funny, gets the entire class laughing. I don't deserve all of this attention, to be honest. Part of me would just rather get an A in the class than be flirted with and told I look handsome every single day.

    This school, ever since I moved here, has flocked at me, like a shark towards an innocent little fish. Every day is the same. The same "friends", the same hallways, the same snaps I receive of the class stoners who are having get-togethers at the rich kids' houses.

   I continue my classwork. The notes on Copernicus aren't really the most interesting thing in the world to me, but an A in world history would be awesome. 

   Mrs. Steinberg continued to type on her smart board the notes for us to write down. Less than half of what she was saying actually went into my head, but everything she wrote went down into my notes.

My phone blows up. I see 37 snaps come in around the same time. The bell rings.

what have I done...

   Gym class earlier in the day was kind of a bum. We played volleyball. Obviously, the teacher, as usual, expected me to do the best, and grouped all of the athletic kids, including myself, into two groups to play against each other. She then also grouped the less-athletic kids into other groups, who played on the other side of the gym- a little stereotypical towards them if you ask me. My team won, but I didn't really give a shit to be honest. The other kids in my class, though, take it so seriously. There are some kids that literally have thrown fits because they lost, and students who have cussed out other students for missing the ball or not hitting a home run in whiffle-ball.

   "Come on, boys, let's go!" The teacher yelled, after blowing her whistle. All the guys walked into the locker room. I usually take a shower after gym, and usually am the only one that does. The rest are afraid it will "turn them gay." Today, it turns out, another student decided to take a shower the same time as me for once.

   I took off my shirt, grabbed my gym bag that held my shampoo, conditioner, and body wash, and then took off my American Eagle underwear and gym shorts. David stood next to me. He is a shorter, Hispanic student, who was playing in the team against us in volleyball.

 I grabbed my body wash and washed around my body while David stood there, naked, also washing his body. 

"We were talking earlier. Who you taking to the homecoming, bro?" David said to me, while running his hands through his hair, covering it in shampoo that was of a greenish color, I think Adidas shampoo. He was tan skinned, and had a very good physique. Everyone knew he was attractive.

"I honestly don't know yet. I told you that." I said to him, running my hand down to my groin, where I cleaned up down there. He turned around to wash his own body. And what happened next is new to me.

  I stepped closer to him. I looked down towards his buttocks as he ran his hand down his leg which had light-colored brown hair. I don't think he noticed I was getting closer to him, but I wanted to keep watching him bathe for some reason. I hadn't cleaned my hair yet, so when he began to turn around, I grabbed my shampoo, gave him more space, and washed my hair with my Axe shampoo my mother bought for me to use in the gym for this new school year.  

   why does this feel so new and good

   I've always been somewhat attracted to guys. Now that I think about it, I've been definitely attracted to guys. Definitely haven't said that to any of the "guys" yet, but I have been attracted to them.

 David seemed to be getting near the end of his shower, and was putting his conditioner in his hair, rinsing it out, and grabbing for the towel next to him. 

this is my only shot

What I did next, we will never know if it is considered sexual assault or just testosterone, but I squeezed his butt cheek and quickly kissed him on the side of his right cheek while he was turned around, finishing his shower. I immediately regretted it. His buttcheek was very wet still, as it hadn't been dried off yet. I enjoyed my first moment of gay affection. Kissing a boy on the cheek felt so good. 

Quickly he turned around, and his facial expression was the reasoning behind my regret.

"What the actual hell, Jake!" he said, slapped me hard across the right cheek (by cheek, I sadly don't mean my butt cheek) and quickly grabbed his towel.

"I didn't do it. I swear." I lied to him.

"Just stay the fuck away from me, you faggot." he said, putting his clothes on, and leaving the locker room towards his next class. I did the same. 

As I walked out, guys were laughing and didn't mention my name or anything as usual. 

they didn't...

   The bell during world history just rang, and I begin to walk through the hall of Carbondale High.

I pull my iPhone out of my pocket, and see 37 yellow flashing snaps 

"Snapchat: Lark"

"Snapchat: Zach"

"Snapchat: Clayton"

... and so on.

All these snaps... Did someone record what happened in the gym with David and I? The shower isn't near the other guys, how did they record it if they did?

I open Lark's snap and see my current biggest fear come to life. Zoomed in, is a picture of me grabbing David's ass, with the text, "Jake the Fake" written under the picture.