𝚃𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚂𝚎𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟼𝚝𝚑
Parker POV
Never in a million years did I think that I would admit this, but I'll say it: I'm stoked for the first day of school.
That fact is made better and brighter only because of the person holding my hand as we walk into the school together. To add to my earlier statement, I also never thought I'd enter this school again with my boyfriend next to me. Truly, this entire day is a miracle.
Miles inhales deeply, casts his eyes on the school, and squeezes my hand, obviously enjoying this moment as much as I am.
As we step onto the sidewalk, he's careful to keep the brand-new Nikes that I bought him from scuffing against the concrete. He paired the shoes with khaki-colored cargo pants and a vintage tshirt that he thrifted a month ago, so of course, he looks damn good.
I have no one to impress anymore, which means I was able to leave the house with a pair of beat-up Air Forces on my feet, dusty green pants, and a thin cream sweatshirt. Besides, Miles' outfits usually steal my thunder as it is.
Even now, heads turn the closer we get to the steady stream of students going inside the doors.
Eyes flicker past me, down to our intertwined hands, and back up to Miles. Girls whisper behind their palms and try to point at us discreetly. Boys aren't afraid to point blatantly.
I catch fragments of sentences as we head inside.
"Wait, Miles is back in town?..."
"... thought they broke up..."
"I was told that he tried overdosing..."
"... wasn't he supposed to be gone?"
"These stupid gays..."
One year ago, if I had heard the stuff that my peers are coming up with and saying behind our backs right now, I would've turned my ass around and ran right back out those doors. The thought of anyone knowing my repressed secret would have killed me.
Today, I smile when Miles slips his hand up my wrist and settles his arm around my shoulders. He tugs me closer to his side and tilts his head down. His breath tickles my ear while simultaneously sending goosebumps over my skin.
"I feel like we're on display at a zoo. I forgot how nuts these people are," Miles murmurs.
I chew my cheek to keep from grinning and try my best to keep my gaze forward. If I were to start looking around at people, everyone would know we're talking shit.
"Trust me, I always forget, too. Ignore them," I reply quietly.
Miles laughs and throws his arm off me to bump me with his elbow. "Yeah, okay, says you!"
My scolding response dies in my throat as Declan fights his way against the crowd's current, making a bee-line toward us.
"Holy shit! I don't believe my eyes!" Declan hoots, practically running over a small freshman girl. "If it isn't Miles Holt! What's up, buddy?! I thought your ass got carted out of here!"
I stand back and smile while Miles beams. He meets Declan halfway in the busy lobby, and the two boys embrace. The crowd of students split around us like the Red Sea.
Watching them hug, even as fast as it is, makes my gut knot with jealousy. I know it's stupid and childish as hell, especially when I had Miles on his knees in front of me last night, yet I can't help the feeling. Seeing him in such proximity to other guys is almost enough to make me want to grab him by the back of his shirt and drag him away.
"Hell no! It would take more than that to keep me away from you losers. I'm back and better than ever." Miles grins and uses both hands to pop the invisible collar on his shirt.
Declan scoffs, but his tone has no venom when he teases Miles. "Yeah, that doesn't mean much coming from..."
A finger taps my shoulder, and I startle, instantly getting hooked and yanked away from their conversation. The distraction is enough to make me spin around, and I attempt a smile. It's futile.
Hannah smiles thinly at me.
Oh, god.
Not a single thing has changed about Hannah since I last saw her. Her hair is still stick straight and whiter than paper, her skin is an unnatural shade of bronze, and her eyes are so blue that I wonder if she's wearing fake contacts.
"Hi, Parker," she greets me kindly and takes a half step backward.
"Oh! Um, hey... Hannah." I clear my throat. Jesus. She seriously couldn't have kept walking past? "How was your summer?"
The awkwardness is so pliable I could reach out and touch it. Hannah crosses her arms over her chest and eyes me with barely-contained anguish.
Not that I blame her.
Hannah and I were close to becoming a couple last junior year until Miles came into the picture. My dismayed feelings towards her grew nearly overnight. I suddenly couldn't stand being around her, and pretending to be interested in her flirtatious moves almost killed me. One of her kisses did push me away, directly into Miles arms. Literally.
Considering the fact that she's very aware our relationship was nothing but a stepping stone to my sexual awakening put me on her bad side. At least, I was on her bad side for a while.
Hannah may have grown out of her disdain because she can actually look me in the eyes again. I'm glad that being near her gives me no feelings except a desperate need to hide behind Miles' legs.
"It was pretty good. It's never long enough, though. I feel like we just got out of here." She laughs softly at her joke and waves her fingers. "I'm glad to see that... you know. You're happy again."
God forbid that she directly mentions Miles. He might as well be an alien for the way she talks about him.
"Yeah, thanks. I definitely have no reason to complain anymore," I comment and awkwardly scratch my neck.
Hannah practically bores a hole through my face. I can see that she wants to say more to me until I feel a hand on my waist.
Miles comes around my side, slipping his fingers along the width of my back until he's around my side. He's still as jolly as ever as he examines Hannah.
"Yo, it's Hannah, right?" Miles asks and tilts his head.
Hannah's eyes move like a hummingbird. Her act of holding onto a smile instantly falls as she glances between his hand on me, how I gravitate closer to his side, and how my feet point towards him.
Seeing them side by side like this almost, almost, makes me want to laugh. These two love interests of mine, the forced one and the one meant to be, couldn't be any more different if they even tried in every way possible.
"Um, yeah. I know who you are," Hannah says and blinks at him.
Miles has all the reason in the world to be snarky or make some unnecessary comment in reply to her prod. Instead, he shrugs. "My reputation proceeds me."
"Kinda hard not to with this circumstance." She gives him a once-over before looking at me again. "I should get to class. See you later, Parker."
With that being established, Hannah spins on her heel and flicks her hair over her shoulder as she walks away.
Miles mimics her behavior as he turns around. "Two bitches can play it that way. She can play checkers all day, but that doesn't matter if I'm already playing chess. Besides, I won the fuckin' prize here." He reaches out and grabs me by the waist as I catch up, planting a kiss on my neck.
His behavior makes me laugh, and I don't care about the people who stare as they pass. It's like Miles said; we both already have our prize.
"Stop!" I snicker and plant my hand on his side to push him away as I feel his teeth nip at my skin. "You play too much. You're going to make us late for our first class. That wouldn't set us up for success this year."
"Well, shit, I can make us show up later if you want. I can think of one or two real ways to set us up for success." Miles winks at me, which makes my cheeks pink until he takes his hands off me and keeps walking toward the locker bay. "Besides, we're with Greyson in our first hour, and he wouldn't care if we skipped."
"You don't know him like I do. If anything, he'd probably blow up our phones until we showed up. Let's be good students and not be tardy."
Miles exhales strongly through his lips. "Whatever. I guess you're right."
As we follow the crowd, I nudge him again to force a smile onto his face.
Truthfully, considering how often we get stopped by other people who either want to welcome Miles back, say hi to me, or talk to both of us, we would've had enough time to sneak off and take a few minutes for ourselves. The hallways are partially empty by the time we rush down the corridor to get to Greyson's classroom. That first warning tardy bell will be ringing any minute.
As we hurry around the last corner together, my attention immediately falls on the person ahead. There's no assuming who it is.
Considering the hunched shoulders, pissy aura, and cane hitting the ground in an unsteady rhythm, I know it's Griffin.
"Griffin! Man, you should've texted one of us to come help you out," Miles says and breaks into a jog to meet my cousin. He swoops next to him and forces Griffin to a stop, practically peeling the backpack off his shoulder to carry it on his own back. "You can't be carrying this shit by yourself."
I quirk an eyebrow and break into a jog to catch up to the two of them.
Miles called me a few weeks ago and said he ran into Griffin in town. According to him, the two of them had a nice, quick talk and came to a mutual understanding. I don't know what the fuck they talked about or what happened, but they practically turned into brothers overnight.
I'm happy that they grew out of the whole out-to-kill-each-other phase. However, seeing them become such fast friends puts a weird feeling in my gut, especially when Miles is out here offering to carry Griffin's shit.
"My leg is crippled, not my fucking back," Griffin snaps, yet some tension leaves his face when the weight is taken off his shoulder.
"Oh, yes, you're welcome," Miles replies sarcastically and grins as he walks backward into the classroom. He meets my gaze and beams a little brighter. The apprehension I felt toward him twenty seconds ago melts instantly: I can't be mad at him for long.
Griffin's scowl deepens as we enter the classroom, and all eighteen pairs of eyes turn and focus on him like a bad car accident. He has never enjoyed having a lot of attention on him, so I'm sure this is another log on his fire.
I can hear him mumbling profanities under his breath as I follow him around Greyson's desk.
Greyson looks up as we three enter the room and straightens up, a smile growing on his face. "There are the last three that I was waiting for! Just in time, boys." His sentence is punctuated with the sound of the tardy bell ringing.
As the noise sounds, Greyson's eyes droop over his son. I recognize the worried pull of his eyebrows. Thankfully, he's smart enough not to say anything else.
"Yeah, sorry," I apologize and shrug as we walk past his desk. "The hallways were super crowded today."
"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you guys made it in time. Go ahead and find a seat." Greyson claps his hands. "And everyone else, follow the same example! We're burning daylight here!"
Kids grumble and sneakers squeak as the mingling bodies find their way back to their non-official assigned seats.
Miles leads the way to the back two rows in the corner and offers his hand to Forrest. "God damn, we get the entire gang in here this year? Greyson's life is about to get real shitty!"
Forrest laughs and awkwardly leans over his desk to dap up Miles. "You better believe it! Whoever made the class schedule must really hate him."
"It was probably Ms. Chapman. She definitely hates him," Griffin comments and sinks into the empty chair in front of Rose, followed by a heavy sigh. He immediately favors his bad leg.
I wonder if his knee is bothering him as I take the empty seat next to my cousin and in front of Forrest.
Miles takes the desk directly in front of me and spins around, a stupid smile splitting his face. "Experiencing dejá vú yet?"
I lean over my desktop to get close to him, close enough to kiss, and lower my voice. "Not until I get a hard-on because I'm not supposed to reach forward and touch you."
Miles laughs loudly.
Griffin wrinkles his nose and shifts further away from me onto the edge of his seat. "Fuck this. I'm dropping the class."
Rose, sitting behind me, taps my shoulder and whispers, "What's going on? I missed it."
"Parker is trying to live out his gay fantasies," Griffin says just a little too loudly and reclines in his seat.
Snorting, I whack his shoulder with my notebook. "Shut the fuck up! I never said that."
"Yeah, because you didn't have to, sicko. Don't touch me! I don't want your gay germs."
Miles won't stop giggling as he shakes his head and faces forward again. "I'm done with you all."
Forrest sighs and gazes forward blankly. "This is going to be a long year."
- - -
Once history ends, my other two classes drag until lunchtime rolls around.
I have no idea where Miles or my other friends ended up, especially because I'm not used to anyone's schedules yet, so I take the liberty to grab my packed lunch from my locker and go straight to the lunchroom.
A few more people greet me or stop me on the way, yet the attention is nothing like what I received last year.
One year ago today, I was the hometown hero. I was late to every class and could barely sit down during lunch. Almost everyone couldn't move fast enough to approach me and pretend we were best buddies. It was my first year as the captain of our varsity football team, and no one was a stranger to my talents.
People attacked me like flies not only because I was talented and wrapped up in the 'popular' crowd but because I was approachable. I was mysterious. I was the kid who still wasn't dating anyone, took the football field by storm, and had such a small inner circle that the public didn't know much about me other than my football statistics and generic facts.
This year, I am the weird gay kid who still happens to be pretty good at throwing a football. It's insane how much has changed, all because I call the partner I chose 'my boyfriend.'
At least I can walk over to the lunch table without a massive pit in my stomach. This year, I know exactly who I am.
Kendric stands up and waves his arms from a rectangular table in the back corner near the windows that oversee the courtyard.
I wave my hand in response to let him know that I can see where they're at, and my shoulders get looser as I approach.
Here's another good thing about this year: I recognize and enjoy being around everyone who's currently at the table.
Joshua, Atlas, Turner, Declan, and a few other guys from my team are already sitting down and conversing. There's a handful of other people that I recognize from last year. Forrest is already deep in conversation with Miles, and Griffin is camped out on the end with his casted leg sticking out and a scowl on his face as he stabs at his chicken.
Atlas looks up when I approach and grins, offering me his palm. "Graham. It's good to see your face again, man."
"You too, buddy." I smile and slap his hand as I walk by. He starts a chain reaction as nearly everyone at the table greets me, save for Griffin.
Miles is the one who hurries to stand up and grab the empty chair next to him, pulling it out like a gentleman. He manages to sneak a kiss onto my cheek. "I was about to go see where you were at."
His sweetness makes my heart warm. I get one more real kiss in before sitting down. "Nope, no need. I had no idea that all of you guys got down here so early."
"I think that you're actually the late one. We were on time," Miles says happily and retakes his seat.
God, it feels good to have him by my side. Griffin is the only one who looks at us like we're mentally insane, but that's not saying much. The rest of our friends aren't phased by our interaction as they talk, eat, and laugh. It's just... normal.
Until Rose comes parading over with Hannah, and Hannah's best friend, Ali, in tow.
"Wow, hi, everybody!" Rose exclaims and practically bounces over. "It's so good to see everyone! I brought some friends with me!"
Miles and I exchange a look.
His eyes are screaming, Friends?
I shrug. Looks like we're going to have to start inviting Hannah to sleepovers and dates to the mall.
The only date she'll want from me is my day of death on a headstone and your guys' marriage date on a certificate.
I smirk. He's right.
"Hey guys," Hannah greets us as they chime out to her. She sits next to Rose, except I don't miss how her eyes slide over me as she sits down.
Hannah can pretend to hate me all she wants, but if I had to guess, there are still feelings somewhere. I'm not sorry that that's a one-way street.
On the other hand, Ali glances at Griffin and takes the seat next to her friend, which puts her right across from him. She smiles softly and ticks her long brown hair behind her ear. "Hey, Griffin. How has your leg been healing? I still can't believe what happened."
Griffin doesn't look up from where he's repeatedly stabbing fork holes into his chicken breast. "Fine."
Rose must be listening to their conversation because I notice her shoulders move with a bit of momentum. Considering the way Griffin's face twists, she must have kicked him under the table.
He sighs as if raising his head is the biggest inconvenience he's had all year long and looks at Ali. "It's been fine."
Miles grins and shifts closer to me, our shoulders brushing as he whispers in my ear, "Your cousin is fumbling the ball over there. Do we need to help him out?"
I shake my head just an inch and lean to say in his ear, "Trust me, if he actually cared, we would know."
Miles bites his cheek to keep from smiling and stage whispers, "Griffin? Caring about someone? I don't even think he knows what that's supposed to look like."
I shush Miles and push him with a repressed laugh.
"Hey, Parker. Miles. Is there room for one more?"
Shit.
My jaw goes a little slack because this is the last person I thought would approach us today. Unfortunately, Miles is in a good mood right now and way too friendly for his own good. He waves Reuben over.
"Yo, yeah, of course! Pop a squat." Miles waves his hand at the empty chair that's across from us.
I don't know if he remembers that Reuben had the hots for me three short months ago or not. Considering how Miles returns to eating his sandwich without a care in the world, I am assuming he doesn't.
Reuben sits and glances at Miles like he's thinking the same thing before his attention falls on me. "I'm surprised I didn't run into you guys at all at the apartment this summer after that first time. You two must've stayed busy."
A tiny match lights up in my stomach, creating an uneasy heat. He's been paying attention to whether or not we were at Miles' apartment?
Griffin takes a higher priority in our conversation, too. He must be over the small talk with Ali because he says exactly what I'm thinking. "Dude, were you keeping fucking tabs on them?"
His question puts an embarrassed blush on Reuben's cheeks. He's able to rebound fast. "Hell no! I never said that."
"We were busy," Miles pipes up. "We spent more time at Parker's house than anything, but we squeezed some fun stuff in, too. Driving up to the Redwood Forest last month was pretty sweet. Hold on, look at this fuckin' tree!"
I open my mouth to redirect Miles, although it's too late.
He whips his phone out and scrolls wildly for a moment. I know the photo that he's going to show off. There was this massive Redwood that had fallen over, and Miles had me stand at the base of the trunk to show off the unbelievable width of the tree. Seriously, it would've taken three of me to cover the circumference. It was a good picture, and my outfit rocked that day, but I don't know if I want Reuben to see it.
Except... it's too late. Miles is holding the phone in front of his face with a stupid grin, oblivious to the fact that he's rubbing salt in Reuben's wound. Considering how Hannah's face twists as she listens to us, Reuben isn't the only one with repressed feelings here.
Reuben examines the photo. His eyes don't leave one spot on the screen. He's staring at me.
His dark eyes flicker off the phone and land on me, making my skin crawl unpleasantly. I don't know if he's aware that my boyfriend is right here, however, he doesn't give a shit.
"Yeah, that's a good picture," Reuben says dismissively.
I look away before Reuben does and focus on the act of opening my lunch bag. My palms are sweaty. I can't fucking stand that he won't take the hint, especially with Miles being next to me. If this skinny little Mexican thinks he can cause trouble for Miles and me, he has another idea coming at him.
Miles, on the other hand, is more than happy to keep talking about our trip. He even gets most of the lunch table to listen to his tale.
I do what I'm best at and melt into the background.
This isn't the way I saw this day going.