Tear In My Heart ✔️

V. Internal Conflicts (edited)

"Noah, man, you missed out on a rager on Friday. Ashley was asking about you all night. How could you turn down such a good mouth?" Max said as I walked to our table in the cafeteria where the boys and I usually met before first bell. "I mean she took me straight to Nirvana if you know what I mean." He winked and elbowed me, causing me to let out a forced chuckle as I took a seat next to Connor, though disgust moved through me in waves.

"Sorry man, but I was tired," I shrugged. "I had to finish my homework. If I let my grades slip my Nonna will murder me, but I'm happy to hear that you finally got your shot with her, and about time too," I joked. "I swear if I had to hear about another wet dream you had of her I was honestly going to castrate you."

"Piss off," he half chuckled as he delivered a punch to my shoulder which I returned with a laugh. It was moments like these that I prided my ability to lie at a moment's notice. If they ever found out about Madison they'd flip. They weren't homophobic–or if they were they never showed it–but they'd most likely start teasing me like they did the other gay people. Nothing too serious, but enough to get on one's nerves and I'm not known for my anger management. I let out a breath and put my focus on the boy's conversations that floated around me. Girls. Who they banged and who was next on their list. Sports. Parties. More girls.

Ugh. Same old same old. Utterly disgusting. 

Without thinking, I stood up from the table, shooting an empty bye over my shoulder before I made my way through the congested hallways and up the traffic jammed stairs until I reached my first period, creative writing. "Hello, Noah," Mr. Hill greeted as I walked into the room and picked up my assigned MacBook from the front of the classroom.

"Hello, Mr. Hill," I politely greeted back as I took my seat in the back of the room. Mr. Hill was by far my favorite teacher and not only because he taught my favorite class. Yeah he taught me the artistic relief of creative writing and allowing others to experience your vision through words, but he'd also been there for me when times got rough. When my grades started slipping, when my Nonna had gotten terribly sick, when my parents left... He'd been there through it all. Mr. Hill was like a second dad to me, though no one could replace my real one. It also helped that he was a proud member of the LGBTQ+ community. I hadn't told him about my struggles coming to terms with who I was, but I knew I would when I felt ready. I also knew he'd support me and help me every step of the way.

"How is your Nonna doing?" He asked as I logged on in the hopes of getting to work a bit on the novella we'd been assigned to do.

"She's as deadly as ever," I joked, causing him to chuckle. "But doing fine, none the less."

"That's what I like to hear," he nodded. "Have you chosen which story or stories you'd like to present yet?" I shook my head in response.

"Come on, Noah. I know it's three months away, but that time will fly by faster than you know," he chastised, causing me to sigh.

"I know, I know, but with things like this, I have to choose the one that I think best reflects me not only as a person but as a writer as well." Mr. Hill was friends with one of the chairmen of a prestigious fine arts school in New York who'd seen one of my pieces at a showcase that Mr. Hill chose in my absence due to a football game. He had and liked it so much that he wanted a collection of my best work in order to see if I was eligible for one of the very few scholarships they gave out every year.

Yeah, no pressure there.

But, the best part was that Nonna had no idea. I wanted it to be a surprise for her if I made it. But sometimes it was tempting to tell her, like the times she chastised me for not thinking about my future and "wasting all of my time" on soccer and parties. Little did she know that I'd been working hard to come up with a piece that would guarantee my name on the list of scholarships. It just took time and patience.