“Brendan!” I greeted one of my best friends as I jumped on his back.

“Hey Shane,” he replied while chuckling softly and rolling his eyes. The thing to know about Brendan is that he chuckles instead of laughing. It could be quite adorable, but also quite annoying. We were on our way to my favorite class of the day: choir.

“Hello my lovelies,” sounded an over-enthusiastic voice behind us. I followed the voice by turning my head to find my other best friend, Julie, charging up behind us with a huge smile on her face. We all loved choir. As soon as I gave the signal, Brendan took off with me on his back towards the choir room. We were in the classroom in a few seconds, and Julie was close behind. Once she made it inside, she gave me a dirty look, but I knew she was only joking around. She caught her breath and sat in front of me in the soprano section.

“I’m gunna get you back one day, you know,” she said as she grinned deviously.

“Sure you are…just don't forget who’s taller.”

“Yeah, but I’m stronger. I’ve got tennis muscles.”

“I have soccer muscles,” I said as I stuck my tongue out.

“Well, you can’t use those soccer muscles for another month because of when you broke you’re foot.” I crossed my arms and pouted.

“Well at least I got the cast taken off. It was murder,” I said, rubbing my ankle. We both got into a fit of giggles after a few seconds of silence.

“Okay class, get out your music so we can go over The Hallelujah Chorus,” Mr. Holt announced mere seconds after our routine warm-up. We took out the music and started the session. The classroom was a typical choir classroom; with the different rows on separate elevations so we could see the director at all times, and there was an old, crappy piano in the middle that Mr. Holt was using to teach us our new parts.

It was his first year teaching choir. It was also the first year that we even had a choir at our school. Well, I guess it wasn’t the first. W had one a couple years before, but the teacher quit after the students drove him crazy. But Mr. Holt was cool, calm, and collected. All the students loved his methods, and he taught us more than we could have even expected to learn in a choir class. He was just out of college and could really relate to each of us on a different level.

As we put together the part of the song we had just learned, I fiddled with my hair. I had sung the Hallelujah Chorus in eighth grade, and I remarkably remembered every note of it. My attention was on my hair at the moment. It had become quite interesting, actually. It was beginning to darken from the almost non-existent exposure I had been getting from the sun. I had a hunch that in a couple years, my hair would be as dark as my eyes…or at least as brown as Julie’s hair.

After we finished with the Hallelujah Chorus for the day, we switched to a jazz version of Carol of the Bells. I already memorized the music, so I just tried to avert my attention to something interesting. It was odd that I wasn’t paying attention, but I just wasn’t in the mood. I was feeling kind of depressed, but I didn’t know why. It just wasn’t like me.

A couple minutes of lingering in my depression had passed, and I figured I would be able to think more clearly if I was away from the music, so I got up and grabbed the hall pass. Once I was outside the door, I slowed my pace and watched my feet as one delicately placed itself in front of the other. I noticed the brisk January air was different today. It was calming, which was remarkably strange in a school.

I walked into the bathroom and, thankfully, no one was there. I washed my hands and dried them off before I started gazing into the mirror. I wish I could have told my reflection that it could stop pretending to be me, but there is no way I could have done that. As I gazed into the reflection, I saw weary eyes that had been worn down by life and pale skin that looked like it had never lived. It was the perfect bit of irony, but not at all how a sixteen year old should have looked. A sixteen year old should be full of life, and they should be bright and shiny, as if sixteen year olds are like a new penny, while adults are like a crumbled up dollar bill.

I finished with making myself even more depressed and waltzed out of the bathroom putting one foot in front of the other.

The rest of choir went by quickly, so before anyone could have guessed, the bell had rung and students were leaving the room for Nutrition. “Hey, Shane. Could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Sure,” I said as I looked to Brendan and Julie who were waiting for me by the door. “You guys can go ahead. I’ll find you.” They left, and I turned my attention to Mr. Holt. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice that you weren’t giving the music all of your attention today. Is there any reason why?” Should I tell him or not?

“I guess I don’t really feel like myself today. I’m surprised you even noticed.” At least I told him half of it. The truth was: I was suffering from a fatal, yet vital, attraction.

“Well, you have one of the stronger voices in a choir of about 30. Yours is also one of the more developed in the group, so it would be kind of hard to not notice.” I chuckled in response and blushed a little at the compliment. “Well, if you ever need to talk, I’m always here.” His eyes lingered on me for a second more in a strange, lustful stare.

“Okay.” I left the room to go find Julie and Brendan and just decided to forget about the look he gave me.

I found the two at our normal area. It was just Julie, Brendan, Jon, Kyle, and I in a private little area in front of the secluded drama classroom. Sometimes Jon or Kyle would bring their girlfriends, but not often. I loved our little circle, and discouraged any of the others bringing anyone but than themselves.

“So what did Mr. Holt want?” Julie asked as soon as I came into her line of sight.

“He just thought that something was wrong because I’m not acting like myself.”

“Is something wrong?”

“No, I’m just tired, but thanks for asking Brendan.” I smiled and sat on his lap. Jon just gave us an odd look.

“What?” we asked in unison.

“It’s just that sometimes you two act like you’re a couple.”

“So? He’s comfy.” I pouted and crossed my arms. Brendan wrapped his arm around me in a backwards hug. Brendan had a little extra padding, but it made him all the more adorable and comfortable. He was already adorable because of his perfectly messy chocolate-brown hair and matching eyes. No matter how much you tried to mess with it, his hair would always go back to its original state. Brendan was about my height (5’ 7”), and had very soft features. To me, he was perfect.

“Aww. Thanks Shane,” he said in my ear. He had no idea what kind of effect that had on me. It was a good thing that he couldn’t see my face because my eyes fluttered shut for a moment and I blushed. Jon, Kyle, and Julie all knew of my feelings toward Brendan, but they didn’t know exactly how bad I had fallen for him.

“You’re welcome, Squishy.”

“Squishy? I thought that was my nickname for him,” Julie whined. She had a thing for Finding Nemo, and gave us each our own nicknames. Her nickname was Dory, Brendan’s was (of course) Squishy, Kyle was Crash, Jon was Marlin, and I was Nemo. Obviously, she was the only one allowed to use them. I never understood the purpose of having nicknames if no one else could use them, but she didn’t care.

I just waited for her to stop pouting and that was accomplished by sinking into Brendan even more. He still had his arms around my waist and his hand was resting on my hip, making the butterflies in my stomach have a field day. If only he knew what affect that had on me…

Lunch ended just as Julie had started acting like I never called Brendan “Squishy”. She was a great friend and all, but sometimes you wondered if she had just narrowly escaped the ‘cuckoo hut.’