The Emo and the Quarterback (Book one in the Love is Love Series)

I

I don't know when, or how, or why this happened, but I, Coreville High's only Emo and loner, managed to fall head over heels for the worst person my stupid heart could have picked. And yet, I regret nothing.

"Mr. Dawson, please stop dozing in my class!" Mr. Smith snapped. The class chuckled, but grew quiet under Mr. Smith's stern look. I woke up briefly, just long enough to sit up straight and look as though I was paying attention, when my mind was really wandering to what it's wandered to every day for the past two months since school started: Troy Steel. I never really understood when- or why- I first felt that weird, giddy feel that I'd now get if he glanced my my relative direction, even if it was always a glare or disgusted sneer, but it was killing me. More that school normally did, at least. My mom says the usual mom bullshit that it's good for me and that this 'phase'- which she fucking knows it ain't a fucking phase, I've been like this since sixth grade- is probably over, but fuck no. My dad couldn't care less, and says it's just me being me. Eh. He doesn't mean any harm by it.

I thought about Troy; his abs, his perfect tan, his pale green eyes, his adorable sun-kissed freckles, his sandy blond surfer haircut, his perfectly smooth lips, his boyish smile- and then his attitude. His attitude was fucked up. He was the quarterback on the football team, the King Of Coreville High. The popular guy. The school's Alpha, in a sense. And I, along with the other 'losers' at the school, were what he had for lunch. The ones he used as verbal punching bags. Except, not me. I was the exception. He didn't dare to mess with me. Nobody did. Nobody wanted to be the one to anger the Emo, The boy who probably smoked and drank and pulled a knife if he's pissed.

At least they leave me alone. Until they find out that I'm gay, that is. Then my peace goes bye-bye.

The bell rang, and I made my way from the classroom and to my abandoned classroom that I spent lunches in every day. I call it mine because I'm the only one who dares to go into the supposedly haunted room. I picked up the guitar I'd found in the abandoned music room, and before long, I was playing a rock cover of Zombie by the The Cranberries. I was lost in my own world of calm and solitude, and yet still my mind wandered to Troy. He was one of the few football players that wasn't buff and overly muscular; yeah he had muscles, but he had a lean tall build that always caught my eye. I finished the song.

"So this is what the Emo does when he's alone," a boyish, teasing voice said, amused. I looked up from the guitar and saw Troy.

"Can I help you?" I asked irritably. I had never been this close to the attractive quarterback, and it honestly worried me. Did he finally decide to take his anger out on me?

"I don't know," Troy said. "That depends."

"Depends on what?" I asked.

"If you're in a good mood. I need help with history, and you have the best grade in that class. I'll pay you if you want, but I have to get my grade up or I'm cut from the football team," Troy said. He looked worried.

I burst into laughter. "So the King Of Coreville High is coming to me of all people for help?" I snickered when Troy scowled.

"Name your price, just help me out, please?" Troy asked, and I saw a desperate glimmer in his eye before it vanished.

"Fine. Your brother drives you home after school, yeah?" I asked. He nodded. "Tell him your going somewhere or other and that you don't need a ride," I said. "Then I'll pick you up at three and we'll take these tutoring lessons to my place. I'll tell you what I want then. Deal?" I asked.

"Fine. I have football practice every Tuesday Wednesday and Thursday from 4-7," he said.

"Ok. Monday and Friday 3-6 and Saturday 11-2 work for you?" I asked. He nodded.

"What's your first name, anyways?" Troy asked. I chuckled.

"If you don't know that now, I'll just tell you later," I said with a smile. It wasn't a sincere smile, but at the same time it wasn't sarcastic. "Now shoo, this is my space."

"Whatever, Emo," Troy scoffed.

I smirked. "Later, Troy," I said, drawing out his name lazily, "I'm sure your friends will have loads to talk about when they find out that you need the school loner's help."

"Fuck you." Troy said, and left the room.

I snickered to myself, and mumbled, "I really wish you would."