t w e n t y n i n e

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It's now the last lesson of the day, me still trying to hide a blush formed on my cheeks that just won't seem to leave. Phil Lester is my friend. The punk with sleeves of tattoos and a crap tonne of facial piercings is sweet and gentle. I like him a lot, and I've never liked anyone before, not really. 

Students come piling into the Latin class, where I usually sit at a desk alone at the back of the class, so when someone sits in the seat next to me, I panic slightly. When I turn to see who it is, I see the girl from earlier.

"Hey, it's okay if I sit here, right?"

"Yeah, of course."

"Thanks. I wasn't really going to take no for an answer." She says with a laugh. "I'm Louise by the way."

"I'd say that I'm Dan but everyone already knows that."

"I'm sorry."

"What?"

"Sorry that you go through the shit you do. I've wanted to talk to you for a while, but never really had the chance."

Hold on. What? Someone else is showing a little bit of care towards me? No, they can't possibly care about me. They're probably just against homophobia and that stuff. Yeah.

"Oh, uh, okay."

"Everyone at this school are just homophobic little shits. Well, besides from my friend Zoe and I, and Pj and Chris, obviously."

"And Phil," I add. I don't think he is, but if he's my friend now, then surely he can't be.

The teachers voice booms through the room as he enters, "Right, class, today is just a chilled back lesson, I'm going to hand out some sheets of pieces of writing in latin and you need to translate them using your text books."

"Sounds easy enough," Louise whispers to me.

We spend the entire lesson translating, occasionally exchanging light conversation, but mainly with me being too anxious to say much.

TOO GOOD ; PhanOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora