Doughnut Drugs

Doughnuts and Disgust

Ace's P.O.V

The shop was still as vibrant as ever, and I couldn't help but search around for the curly-haired boy. He recently became a small obsession of mine and I couldn't explain why. 

A head of brown hair popped up from behind the counter and I couldn't help but smile a little as I saw his face.

Humming, I sat myself down at a bar stool facing the window. I looked outside at the other shops that littered the streets. The nearby flower shop was already displaying roses and pansies along with bouquets of pastel colored flowers. The neighboring bakery had closed already, and the hardware store besides it was emitting the loud sounds of hammers and drills.

A menu was placed in front of me and I looked up to see the same boy I was smiling at not too long ago. He had dark brown eyes, that would seem intense, but friendliness and a sense of security rushed through me. Freckles dotted his body like stars in the sky and he had tan skin.

I was right, he was no Victoria Secret model, but he was still attractive. His skin was not clear of acne, and his glasses were basically falling off his face every five seconds, and his teeth were a bit crooked, but he looked nice. And when he smiled at me I felt, nice.

I read the menu once again and told him the exact same order like last time. But this time, I took my time, just admiring him. When he left though, I was left a bit mortified.

My breaths were heavy, and I kept replaying that scene again in my head. Did I like him? Why was I looking and thinking about him like that?

Gay. I wasn't gay, I liked a girl. I dated a girl. I was instantly repulsed by my thoughts. Disgusting, liking anybody that's your own gender was disgusting. It was abnormal and horrifying.

A doughnut and a cup of coffee was placed in front of me by the freckled boy, but I didn't look at him this time. Absolutely disgusting.

My stomach churned, and I didn't feel like eating much. 

After gaining a little courage, I called him over and asked if I could take my food and drink to go. He nodded silently, and put my stuff in a box and a to-go cup.

I rushed out of the shop, trying to forget everything about him. 

~

"Now now everybody!" shouted Mr. Brown. If everybody could just scoot up to the first two rows, that would be great. Mrs. LeBlanc needed another classroom to fit her student's french projects in and since I'm such a nice person, I let her use mine."

I glanced back, the last three rows of desks were covered in multiple projects pasted on poster boards or crafted in shoe boxes.

There were ten people total in my class. Most of them were here because they already finished their foreign language, but I was taking american sign language, so I couldn't go on the field trip.

A boy sat next to me, a frustratingly familiar boy. He had brown curls, dark brown eyes, and freckles, along with glasses that irritatingly hung off his nose.

He threw a crooked smile at me but I only returned it with a glare. Disgusting. He stared at the floor and bit his lip awkwardly before Monsters Inc. showed up on the screen. 

My heart hurt a little, and I didn't know why.

~

I passed by the small, vibrant shop without hesitation, after practice. I stared straight ahead, my only goal was to get to my house.

No freckled boys were at my house and I walked there peacefully.

As I got there however, a silver car pulled into Brielle's driveway, and who came out of it, I was not anticipating. 

Brielle was wearing a velvet, green slip dress and a cropped petticoat along with some black flats. Her cold, blue eyes met mine and she gave me a small wave. A boy with curly hair and freckles and stupid fucking glasses came out of the other side. His bright red Arkansas State University sweatshirt and black basketball shorts just made me hate him more.

Fucking stalker, following me home and all.

He looked up across the street to me. He didn't do anything just stood there, although his stare seemed a bit more aggressive.

 Huffing, I stomped to my front door and fumbled with my keys. When I got inside, I ran to my room and slammed my door.

Disgusting, absolutely disgusting, I told myself over and over again. Every time I repeated that information in my head though, a vision of him just kept getting clearer and clearer in my head.

His tan face and dark freckles that decorated his skin like flowers in a field. His deep, intense brown eyes that were somehow prettier that any form of green or blue eyes I've ever seen. His curly hair was always perfect and his slightly crooked teeth and smile seemed like something Monet painted. He smelt like baked goods and coffee with a hint of cinnamon. 

I hated him so much, but I didn't know how. How was I even remotely attracted to him. He had acne. He had crooked teeth. He was clumsy and squeamish. He could barely call himself a man. He was nothing and everything and I absolutely hated it. 

I called out every, single one of his flaws in my head as I laid down on my bed, covering myself with a grey blanket. 

He's pigeon-toed and his voice cracks are prominent in his voice. His jawline looks like an angle I drew for math class without a ruler. His freckles made his skin look a bit dirty. He has a scar on his arm and it stood out like a donkey in the sea, and when we were changing in the locker room for gym, I saw stretch marks on him.

I curled up in a ball, staring outside my window onto the small, suburban street I lived in. The top window on Brielle's house was lit up and if I squinted, I could see two figures in the window. 

I snorted, why did i care? I closed my white curtains and turned on my light. Sitting on my desk was a stack of textbooks, but I didn't feel like doing any homework at the moment.

I'll do my English essay at six, I told myself. Snuggling into my blanket, I drifted to sleep.

~

"You better pray to the Lord that you didn't get your sheets dirty 'cause I ain't doin' laundry until Sunday," my mother lectured with her southern drawl.

I blinked, getting used to the light. My mother was standing in the middle of my small room with a plate of sliced apples and a cup of iced tea. She set it on my desk and tapped her foot impatiently, her lips drawn out in a straight, thin line.

"Now, help me kill this spider. It looks like it could eat a crocodile." She sauntered out of the room, her light brown hair swaying behind her.

Groaning, I followed after her, hoping that the spider doesn't eat me. 

The spider fiasco lasted for about half a hour because the spider disappeared and my mother stood on the chair screaming for mercy for a solid twenty minutes while I searched around the kitchen.

After eating dinner, I took a shower and brushed my teeth. I walked to my room, my mind blank.

I made myself comfortable on my bed, and I glanced at my alarm clock. 6:25, I should've started my English essay at six. I shrugged. I guess I have to do my essay at seven. 

1303 WORDS