A/N: Hey guys, it's me; the biggest disappointment you knoooooow!
Michael's POV
"Wait, you've never played Super Smash Bros?"
"No," Brooke replies quietly, scribbling something in her notebook.
"That's crazy! You gotta join GGU. We have a meeting this Friday, if you wanna come?"
She just shrugs, like video games aren't some of the best things ever invented. As if. I'm about to give her a lecture on all the benefits of video games, but a thought appears in my head and I can't push it down.
"Oh, I have some interesting news," I say excitedly, changing the subject.
"Yeah?" My friend asks, not looking up or returning my enthusiasm.
"So, in english class, we have a sub. And he's taking attendance, right?"
"Uhuh."
"So Mr. Kumar is going down the list, and then he sees Jeremy's name....and just stops."
"Yeah." She nods, preoccupied.
"And then he starts asking questions, like, about his dad. And then, after class, Jeremy's telling me that it seemed like they knew each other, like, way back."
"Okay. . .So?"
"Well, before that, Jeremy told me something about how his dad had like. . .some gay lover from his past?"
"You don't think..." Brooke says, finally looking up with her eyes wide.
"I know, I know!" I exclaim, "It's crazy. But think about it."
"I mean...it's not impossible." She smiles, returning to her notebook.
It's highly, highly probable. This is insane. I have to tell Jer. He probably hasn't pieced it together yet, the oblivious little frick.
"What are you doing anyway? Drawing?" I inquire, leaning over to get a better look.
I shift my body over towards her desk. She tries pulling the notebook away, but I grab it just in time. I squint at the words on the page, which are arranged into verses.
"Is that...poetry?" I ask, holding back a giggle. "You write poetry?"
"Oh, shut up." She rolls her eyes. "It's stupid anyway."
"No, wait! I wanna read it!"
She looks me in the eye, probably trying to ascertain if I'm serious or not.
"Fine," she agrees. "You can read it. But you can't laugh."
"I won't, I promise."
She tentatively hands the papers to me. My hands grasp the notebook tightly, and my eyes scan over the words.
With your hair, your eyes, the way your lips part,
With your laugh, your smile,
You're stealing my heart.
"Wait!" I shout a bit too loudly, causing a few classmates to glance back at me. I lower my voice and say, "This is a love poem!"
She blushes.
"Aw, is this about me? Brooke, I hate to break it to you, but I'm like...really gay," I tease, and she suppresses a smile.
"Keep reading," she whispers, not catching my eye.
We've been friends forever, so don't take this the wrong way,
But of all the girls, I'd pick you any day.
"Looks like I'm not the only one who's really gay," I think outwardly, patting Brooke on the shoulder. "You gonna tell me who this is about?"
"Isn't it obvious?" Brooke sighs.
"I mean, yeah. But it's more fun when you say it."
She punches my side lightly, and I rub the spot in mock pain.
"So. . .who is it?"
"Stars with a 'C' and ends with a 'hloe'," she remarks smartly.
"No, really?" I gasp.
"You're terrible."
"I know."
Jeremy's POV
"C'mon!" Christine yells, pulling me through the halls by my hand.
The final bell had rung a few minutes ago, and the second I stepped out of the classroom, the girl practically pounced on me.
"Where are we going anyway?" I ask, trying to keep up.
"Band room! Hurry up, Jeremy!"
"I'm trying!" I whine, dragging out the 'y'.
"Sorry, sorry, excuse me, ah! So sorry!" I hear Christine say as she plows through the crowd.
We arrive at the door, but before we walk in, she puts her hands on my shoulders and turns me to face her. Her fingers lightly adjust my jacket, and tuck my hair behind my ear.
"You look great. Go get 'em champ." She says proudly, sounding like a parent before a little league game.
"Go get what? Christi-" I start to say, and then she pushes the door and enters.
The band room is dark, except for some Christmas lights that have been hung from the hooks on the wall. A figure is standing in the middle of the room, fidgeting with their hair.
"Micha?" I inquire, recognizing the gesture.
"Hi, Jer," he replies, and I can hear the smile in his voice.
The soft glow of the lights make him appear a little angelic, and it makes me feel warm inside.
"And...voilà," someone whispers from the shadows behind me.
And with that, a few more lights turn on. Music plays too. It's a slower song, definitely a love song. I don't recognize it, but I do recognize the feeling in the singer's voice.
With the new light, I can see that a table and chairs have been placed in the center of the room. The table has been set with some paper plates, complete with a battery-powered candle.
"Gentlemen!" Rich announces, stepping out from the darkness. "Please, sit down!"
I walk to the other side and pull out Michael's chair. I extend an open palm, signaling for him to take a seat.
"Oh my God," he laughs, situating himself while shaking his head.
I take my place as well, placing a paper napkin over my lap, giggling slightly.
"Welcome, to Middle Borough Dining. I'm Richard, and I'll be your server today," Rich chokes out, attempting to keep his voice monotone.
"Well, Rich," Michael begins, mimicking his tone, "What's on the menu this afternoon? My boyfriend and I expect the upmost priority in this engagement."
Rich looks at Michael, as if challenging him.
"Of course," the boy responds, "I'll bring your appetizers right away. And if you need anything, please, don't hesitate to ask."
He leaves in a hurry, muttering inaudibly under his breath.
Once he's gone, I make eye contact with Michael. We stare each other in the eyes, and then burst out laughing.
"What the hell was that?" Michael asks between chuckles.
"I have no idea, but I think I love it," I reply, my shoulders still shaking.
Rich returns, holding a tray above his head.
"Is something funny, gentlemen? Something not up to your standards?" He questions, his voice now wielding a British accent.
"Oh, nothing," I say, trying but failing to also do an accent.
"Alright. Well, I have brought your Hors d'oeuvres," he deadpans, lowering the cafeteria tray from his head.
An arrangement of Hot Cheetos has been assembled into a flower, with some Doritos as leaves.
"PFT!" Michael grunts, desperately trying to not laugh. It's not really working, he just looks like he's gonna explode.
"And what are these?" I ask, pointing to the corn chips, "Sourced responsibly? No added preservatives? Gluten free and without wheat, salt, sugar, or flavor? I'm on a very fancy new diet-"
"They're Doritos, dumbass. Just eat the fricking Doritos."
And with that, Rich leaves.
Michael raises his eyebrows and bites his lip, smirking.
"Oh, shut up," I say, slapping his hand lightly.
I pick up a responsibly sourced Dorito and devour it.
Delectable.
Michael's POV
We're about halfway through our gourmet meal, when I hear rapid footsteps in the hallway. It's hard to hear, but someone is definitely talking.
"In here. . .yes. . .no one. . .Brooke!"
The door swings open, and light shines into the once dark band room. Two teens stumble in, literally sucking each other's faces off. Ew. Clearly they don't know they have company.
One kid pushes the other away, before yelling, "Chloe, we can't screw in the band room!"
Oh my God, oh my God! That love poem certainly worked, if I do say so myself. Holy crap.
I look over at Jeremy, who's eyes are wide, his face completely pale.
"Oh come on Jer, we knew it was gonna happen sometime," I whisper, smirking at the two girls.
Brooke and Chloe turn to us in unison, their faces bright red. Chloe's mouth hangs open, and Brooke looks like she's trying to formulate a sentence, but all that comes out is petrified mumbles.
Rich and Christine emerge from the other side of the room.
"What's all this commotion about?" Christine asks, confusedly.
Her eyes land on the two girls by the door. With one look at their messed up hair and embarrassed expressions, she shuts her mouth. The room gets silent, other than the sound of Jeremy slowly finishing a Cheeto.
Rich coughs awkwardly. "I think, uh, we should all be getting home now. I think we've all had lots of fun today. Me included, actually. Earlier, I went to the bathroom and sucked Jake's d-"
"OKAY! Enough out of you, Rich," I shout, interrupting his speech.
Everyone looks at him, to which he just grins sheepishly. He puts his hands on his hips.
"What? You guys are just jealous."
Someone knocks on the door, and all heads turn. Mr. Kumar appears, and we all watch as he takes in the entire scene. His eyes move from group to group, scanning all of us. Jeremy and I at a romantic table eating vending machine snacks, Rich standing there like a superhero, Christine smiling because all her ships are slowly sliding into place, and finally, the two dazed and blushing girls, whose hands are still intertwined.
"I. . .you. . .how. . .I. . .what the hell, I don't really care! Anyway, there's a small fire in the science lab and I wanted to warn the students out before the smoke alarms go off," the teacher says, with an element of boredom.
Rich grimaces, and Christine immediately takes his hand. We all remember, and the room goes quiet for a moment.
"A fire?" Chloe questions softly, "Isn't that, like, bad?"
Jeremy nods hurriedly in agreement.
"No, not really," the man says. "Mr. Reyes tried to heat up a hot pocket with a Bunsen burner and lit a few nearby books on fire. It'll be fine. You guys should clear out of here anyway, it's half past four."
The tension lifts a little. Even Rich smiles. Dear God, Mr. Reyes, what would we do without you and your hot pockets?
A/N: Thank you for reading this. . .I guess. I hope this chapter wasn't too painful.
Side note, I actually have huge news. Really, really, really exciting huge news.
I'm SeEiNg Be MoRe ChiLL GUYS GUYS GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
I WISH I COULD TAKE ALL OF YOU ILL JUST SHOVE YOU INTO A SUITCASE AND SMUGGLE US ALL IN AND WE'LL FANGIRL TOGETHER AND JUST SOB BECAUSE THATS WHATS HAPPENING ANYWAY
ITS DECIDED YALL ARE COMING WITH ME
GET IN THE VAN KIDS
((On another note, this book is almost at 20k reads. TWENTY T H O U S A N D READS. UHM, WHAT???))