High School's No Fairy Tale, a Young Adult fanfic

The most awkward thing about after you meet someone is the ever present question of “should I say hi to them when I see them in the halls?” That question haunts my thoughts every time I see Dylan in the halls. One time I see him my hand raises in a half hearted greeting, stuck in the uncertainty zone. But he passes by unaware, and I feel like a child deprived of something they’d been promised.

But I still search for him in the halls. It gets so bad that I see a flash of dark hair from the corner of my eye, and I turn to look, wishing it were him. I see a lithe boy in a fashionable striped shirt and I immediately wonder if it could be him.

I’m going insane. I’m starting to see him everywhere. But I’ll never tell anyone. Especially not Kim. She hasn’t mentioned him since I pointed him out to her, but she doesn’t approve of guys wearing tight pants. Jeez, sometimes she’s worse than my mom.

A few days later I attend my first GSA meeting.

The idea is purely Tori’s. She wants to talk to other gay people so she can decide if she wants to come out of the closet or not. Right now I think even the thought of telling her parents, overwhelms her. So I, the reliable friend, am here for support.

Sometimes I feel like I crutch, the way she leans on me.

Actually, to tell the truth, I don’t mind that much. I hate meeting new people, but I would brave it to speak my mind and help Tori. She knows how much I love voicing opinions and secretly I’m thrilled. But I don’t feel that as I place one hand on the door of the Youth Centre door, I only feel the butterflies in my stomach. I override them and push open the door violently.

A ragged semi-circle of startled faces meet our noisy entrance.

I suddenly feel embarrassed, but I recover hastily.

“New members, I take it?” An older girl sitting on one of the ugly floral patterned couches asks lazily. Her mouth quirks up in a half smile. I know she’s happy we’re joining even if she doesn’t move from her spot.

It takes me nearly all of my courage to respond.

“Yeah, I’m Sam, and this is Tori.” My short words sound breathy to me, but no one else seems to notice.

A group of six teenagers is strewn over the couches and chairs, only two boys among the smattering of females.

“Welcome!” One of the two boys proclaims. My eyes slide over his appearance: dark hair with bleached tips, skin-tight jeans, simple fitting t-shirt with a tacky slogan- “Please Officer, I swear to drunk I’m not God”- and I can’t help but briefly wonder if he’s gay.

I can’t tell, of course, but still I guess.

The other boy was talking to a pretty blonde girl, but now he looks up and smiles lightly.

I smile back, mine a shadow to his.

I study him briefly. The hair threatening to droop into his line of vision is dark, dark brown… nearly black. Brown eyes are set into a face with baby fat left. The slight bit of extra padding on his cheeks makes him look cute and boyish. The build of his body is neither heavy nor lithe, instead it is built somewhere in the middle.

I look away when I realize I’ve been staring.

Tori and I find spots on a couch currently seating one. We squeeze into the tattered sofa, the girl who’d been sitting there moving over with a squeak.

An awkward silence slides in but dims when the older girl that had spoken before takes charge.

“So… I’m Kelsey,” She bobs her head, and a few purple hairs free themselves from the plethora of multi-coloured bobby pins that decorate her scalp. Kelsey points to the other members, and I catch flashes of blue from her fingernails.

“This is Liam-” Kelsey gestures towards the boy sporting the tacky t-shirt and he waves excitedly.

“Jennifer,” A finger points to a lithe blond girl, the one the other boy had been talking to. Jennifer smiles and I note that she has very blue eyes.

Next to her is- “Jeremy,” the boy I had been studying.

“That’s Mariah,” a sturdy girl with long reddish chestnut hair, her features weren’t delicate but they still ooze with femininity. Mariah is seated on the same couch as me and Tori. She shoots us a sincere half-smile.

“And last, but certainly not the least, Kate,” Kelsey points to the girl seated beside her, and they look to be the same age. Kate’s black hair was in short pigtails and her head

Tori and I look around the group and smile.

I told Tori about Dylan, the night after I first talked to him. In fractured and grammatically incorrect sentences over MSN, I outlined his personality.

Sounds nice, she wrote back. A real lady killer.

His name’s Dylan, I tell her.

Oh? Dylan Gresco?

I don’t know his last name, so I tell her: I guess.

She fills me in on rumors.

Strangely enough, I feel shy and awkward when I pull out my roast beef sandwich. Is it odd to have something so plain? Is someone here a raging vegetarian, a hardcore vegan? A forced smile finds its way to my face as I peel back the saran wrap. But no one has pointed at my sandwich and accused it of not belonging. As a take a bite, I look around warily.

Everyone is either engaged in conversation, or eating.

No one’s given my sandwich a second look.

Tori’s talking to the girl sitting on the couch with us. Mariah, I believe her name is. They’re exchanging remarks about the Simpsons, and I relax. Tori’s always been such a people person. Just leave it to her to win people over. She’s gonna conquer the world one person at a time.

Kelsey, the apparent leader of the group, raises her voice above the chatter.

“Okay, so I thought we could discuss some current issues.”

The noise dies down as her listeners wait, enraptured, for her to continue.

Apparently is the new overused word. I use it whenever I’m not sure if what I’m saying is right. This word alone covers my ass if it turns out I was way off base. I used it earlier when I talked to Kim.

“Apparently, Sarah and Gregory are going out.” I told her, smirk lodged on my face.

Now Tori uses the magic word. The word that’s like an instant disclaimer. The word that smoothes things over when someone comes back with a black eye, claiming you set them up.

Apparently Dylan’s single.

Apparently he’s in a band.

Apparently he’s Tori’s friend’s brother.

Apparently he straightens his hair. It’s naturally wavy.

Apparently his favourite movie is Shaun of the Dead.

Apparently his favourite colour is Kelly green.

Apparently he’s looking for a girlfriend.

Apparently.

But who knows, with gossip.

Shuffling papers Kelsey had slipped out of a binder, she begins her sermon.

“So, the President is trying to ban gay marriage…” her words are lost in the cries of outrage. “Let’s talk about that.”

Not surprisingly, Liam speaks up first. “It’s f’cking stupid, that’s what!” His eyes seem to come alive with fury. “It only f’cking matters to people who’re gay, so why’re all these f’cking straight governmental people de’cidin’ our future?” His voice is coloured with a curious accent. There seems to be a ghost of a British accent in there? But the manner of speaking he uses is totally originally. I wonder how he picked it up.

I also realize from his words that he’s decidedly gay.

Snatching a side glance at Tori, I catch her hidden look of awe. I know she wishes she was as full of self-confidence as Liam is.

I’m not sure if I believe everything Tori says.

I know she means well….

It’s for certain that’s he’s in a band though.

They’re called the Tomorrows and Todays, she tells me. And I wonder how they got their name. Were they drunk, like the Pink Spiders? But some naïve part of me can’t imagine Dylan drinking either. But there’s me just being hopeful.

Just because I’m a virgin in every single way, I shouldn’t expect other people to follow the same boring, goody-goody, sensible regimen.

But that’s just like me in every way.

Grown-ups always remark on how MATURE and DOWN TO EARTH I am.

Well, fuck that. I’m just sensible, boring me.

I blame it on my parents. They’re the ones that breed me into this school mindset. A 90 was never good enough. Neither was a fucking 97. No, they weren’t satisfied until I milked every point I could get out of that test.

And that’s me. Overachiever extraordinaire.

“That was quite an eloquent way to put that,” Jeremy remarks, laughing.

For a moment it seems like Liam’s going to tear out Jeremy’s tongue and choke him with it. But then, Liam smiles and laughs too.

“Thanks, Jerm.”

The two boys exchange amused looks.

Mariah throws in her two cents, not willing to be left out. “I agree; that’s like totally unfair!” She smiles. “I mean, why do straight people care so much? I know people want to ‘save’ gay people from hell, but that mentality is just so infuriating.”

Jennifer looks like she’s about to contribute something, but Kate beats her to it. “But that’s what they believe! If you thought that everyone was going to die unless you did something, what would you do? I’d think you’d try to save people!” Then Kate looks at Kelsey. “What? I’m just trying to play devil’s advocate here!”

Kelsey rolls her eyes at the girl beside here. “Nothing.” She turns her gaze back to the circle. “True, it’s what they believe, but if they expect us to respect what they believe, they should respect our beliefs. If I don’t prosecute someone for believing in God, they shouldn’t prosecute us for believing homosexuality isn’t wrong.”

“Hear, hear, babe.” Kate runs a hand up Kelsey’s thigh.

Kelsey just rolls her eyes again.

When I spot Jeremy for a second time that day, I’m surprised. It’s weird to realize that not only is he in my AP French class, he’s in almost all of my classes. It’s weird that I’d never noticed him before. But that’s how it goes, I think as I clutch my poster nervously. French had never been my best subject, but my parents had told me again and again: You have to take a language. It’ll look good on your college application. It’s a good idea to learn about other countries.

It’s not until someone’s been shove in your face, that you really start to notice them. My clammy hands grip at my poster as my eyes are shamelessly drawn back to Jeremy again and again.

I am relieved when the teacher calls him to the front of the room to present. Now I won’t have to settle with sideward stares. I can gaze at him head on without anyone giving me weird looks. I silently rejoice in my head as the medium tall boy makes his way to the front of the classroom, sidestepping bags that littered the floor like leaves in the fall. While he walks, one hand slips down the pull up his pants and tug down the Billabong sweatshirt he’s wearing. My eyes follow his hand, and I catch a glimpse of his boxers. They are patterned with Batman symbols. I blink twice slowly.

He is confident like I could never be. Looking straightforward, chin up, he’s ready to begin before the teacher is. His self assurance doesn’t quite carry through to his French. He stumbles over the words. Most words are brutally mangled: endings slurred, middles mumbled.

But his gaze never wavers.

Like a king surveying his land. Unafraid and triumphant.

I admit I didn’t listen to a word he said. I was too busy categorizing his difficult personality.

“Merci, Jeremy. Assietot, s’il vous plait.”

Inside, I am disappointed that he hadn’t stumbled over more of his words. If he had he’d still be presenting instead of moseying back towards his seat.

As he sits down, his gaze flickers to me. Our gazes catch. I’m sorry to say, there were no sparks, no electricity. Instead, Jeremy smiles. If we were in talking distance, maybe he’d be saying, I know you or hey, you’re that quiet girl from GSA.

It’s an acknowledgement. And I smile back.

I know you too.

I never thought I'd pick this story up again. Actually I still don't know if it's going anywhere.

I just ended up writing another chapter because: 1. I actually don't hate my writing in this and 2. I had some sudden inspiration.

I've been feeling like I'm in a bit of a rut... if you know what I mean.

Reviewww. Please. :D