10 things Tj Kippen was NOT (Tyrus)

Tj Kippen is NOT Gay

I ran away without looking back. I don't care what Buffy says, I can't be taught. I'm just a stereotypical, stupid jock, nothing more. I guess the sooner I accept this the easier life will be. Then again, for a person like me could life ever be easy? Even after school's over, I'll have a reputation to maintain.

My parents won't accept anything less than the perfect son. They want a son that gets a good office job and has the standard American Dream life, with a wife, 2.5 kids, and a white picket fence. I don't think I could ever be that for them. I'd hate to work an office job, and honestly what could someone like me do at some corporation? I would be some janitor at best, and I'm pretty sure that's not going to work for them. And I just can't see myself with a wife and 2.5 kids, I mean I really can't see how I could have half a kid?

The idea of having kids doesn't seem too bad, but a wife? God I barely get by sitting in the same classroom as girls. All the guys always talk about how so-and-so's "so hot" or saying they wish they could "score" whoever. Frankly, I've never been into it. Crushes just seemed weird to me, especially when I got into high school. I swear all people talk about in high school is who's sleeping with who and who's dating each other. What's the whole point? You'll never see these people once you graduate.

I mean I might, if I even graduate.

I stopped at a park in the center of town. My thoughts slowed to a stop as I looked around at the rustling trees and wet grass. I noticed a bit of movement from the other side of the park, which caught my eye since everything was mostly still. I walked through the park. The squeaking of a swing beginning to fill my ears as I moved closer to the hooded person responsible for the movement. I swung my arm around the side of the swing set watching this mystery person swing back and forth, humming a song. I smiled at the goofy little tune and I must've let out a laugh or something because he soon turned to me, taking off his hood. A look of embarrassment washed over his face. My own face flushed a light pink in response.

"You come here often?" I awkwardly laughed, not knowing what to say.

"Only when I'm feeling bad about myself." His brown eyes looked back to meet my blue ones. There was an almost a sadness to them, one I couldn't describe in detail, but wouldn't forget ever.

"What's a boy like you got to feel bad about?" His melancholy expression genuinely puzzled me. He was silent for a while, as I regretted asking.

"I'm sorry, it's really none of my business." I looked down and started to turn away.

"No!" He shouted, his voice was louder than it had been before, "please, don't go." He spoke so softly, I was almost unable to hear him. I looked back swiftly to see him off the swing now and looking right at me. It was silent for a moment before he took a breath in and spoke again, this time at a normal volume.

"I have no one else to tell this to, please tell me you'll listen?"

His voice was a like that of a wounded puppy begging to be healed. I sat back down on the swing set as he did the same. He fiddled slightly with the sleeve of his jacket.

"I feel like the world is out to get me," he started, "Like the land underneath me is dissolving and I'm trying to reach higher ground."

He continued, "I mean god forbid I'd be just an average teenager."

I didn't quite understand where he was going with this but I listened patiently instead of asking.

"I'm sorry, you probably don't care. I'm so selfish to be making you stay and listen to me," He said. I furrowed my eyebrows at him. I do care. I don't know why I care but I do.

"It's not selfish to ask for help...uh"

I paused and he filled in the blank with his name.

"Cyrus," he said.