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My high school life was hellish, and I can give you a glimpse of the past:

"Hi, Pierce."

My best friend greeted me as she slunk down the seat beside me. We were on lunch, and we still had 45 minutes before the class bell rang. Melody was a girl my age – 17 years old, who had an Australian boyfriend. Donnie was an exchange student, and he transferred here a couple of months ago. Maybe 3-4 months ago? I wasn't really sure. I was not paying any attention when he came first into the school, and I doubted that I would care. Donnie was really great, handsome even. He would definitely become my type, but there was something about him that I didn't like. Perhaps it was because the way his hair was always full of gel, or the way his eyes became a slit, just like the eyes of the snakes, when he stared at the girls at school. But that didn't stop Melody from dating him, much to my dismay. She kept telling me that it was because I was jealous, which I wasn't really. I was just being protective of her. Donnie was just a playboy – with his good looks, good physique, and brown eyes, he could be tagged as the most handsome guy ever. But he wasn't. There was someone who had that title.

Melody had a long blonde hair, cascading down her shoulders in a curl. She was really popular at this school, even beating the self-proclaimed hottest cheerleader Diana Morris. Her hair, at the tips, were dyed pink, which really suited her. It made her even more beautiful. If I were a straight man, I would definitely go for her. But I wasn't. I was gay.

I discovered that when I was at my 13 years of age; I was at the store with my mother. My mother was doing groceries, picking up cartons of milk – four to be exact. You know how guys are when they are being brought to a grocery store by their parents, I was like that: bored to death. Her other hand was curled on the handle bar of the cart, which was filled with vegetables that I didn't recognize. Despite my annoyance with vegetables, considering that I didn't like vegetables, my mother kept on buying them.

"Vegetables are good for your system," my mother told me a lot of times and it just made me frown.

So we were at the store, and I was so bored that I decided to roam around the grocery; the grocery was just small, really. The cashier was just on the corner, and the entrance was just a few meters away. There were just a few racks that stored the items, which were just for snacks, vegetables, canned foods, and beverages. Nothing else and nothing more.

The floor was tiled with black and white, like a chest. And because I was bored, I decided to have some fun a bit. I tiptoed, jumping on every white box, making sure that I wouldn't land on the black ones. While I was doing that, I was humming, and the bell at the entrance chimed. I didn't look up, because I wasn't really nosy.

But then I fell on the ground because someone bumped me. I didn't know if that was on purpose, but when I looked up, I was kind of shock to see a pair of brown eyes staring back at me, with worried look evident across the kid's feature. He was just like the same age as mine, but he looked mature. There was something inside me clicked, and it made me frown and confuse and bothered. He offered his hand at me, and I looked at it for a couple of seconds before grabbing his hand and I couldn't deny the fact that something traveled when our hands connected – it was a spark.

There was something in his brown hair and brown eyes that made me like him. Something was pulling me to him, and though I was just a 13-year-old kid, I knew right from the start what I was feeling. Right then and there, I knew that whatever I was feeling was not being considered as normal in the society I was living in. But that didn't stop me from admiring, liking the kid.

After a few seconds of staring at each other, the kid was called by his mother and then he was gone in my line of sight. I didn't get his name. Eventually he faded out of my head, until I couldn't recognize the kid anymore. All I knew that the kid had brown eyes and brown hair.

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