Author's Welcome: HELLO FICTIONPRESS! xD Sorry, I'm just so excited to finally be posting a story that I've been fiddling with for some time now. (I'm also sort of avoiding doing a lot of things that I should be doing to post this. XD) For those of you who are fans of my story Constancy, you're going to be in for a big surprise for this new one. It's different from anything I've ever written on here before! Plus it's actually a character's journal. Woot. I'm rambling... but below is a summary that might help you decide if this story is for you. And because this is so different, I don't expect everyone to like it. Please don't flame me.

Summary: Liam Kage was always a strange kid growing up in New York City. He didn't talk much, he didn't work hard at school much, and he didn't show interest in girls much. He has two best friends, Lin and Will who love him despite his prone habits of over-thinking situations and not doing much about them. Then one day, Liam finds himself having publicly humilated Will in front of the girl he'd been eyeing. In trying to pay back Will for the incident, Liam finds himself entering his life for the first time, and actually finding that he wants control of it. But when he starts to realize that living your life means falling in love, and perhaps sawing friendships in half because of it, he starts to want his old world back. Back when he didn't have to wonder what it meant to be in love with your best friend.

Who's a guy.

Property of Liam Kage

4233 Avenue B
Lower East Side, NYC

October 12th

I hadn’t meant to do anything.

The fact is, though; in life stupid, inconvenient and humiliating things happen to unsuspecting people.

Namely me.

In my sixteen years of being, I have discovered I am no child prodigy. I am no actor, I failed finger painting, and I pass school because of my stepsister Angela’s pig-headed stubbornness on my education’s part. And above all I am not athletic.

This last problem would be all right—if I was a girl. For a guy, if you’re not athletic you have a damn good reason. But as stated previously, I’m not good at anything.

Anyways, back to the point of today’s terrible fiasco. Every year we are forced (not literally speaking, as that would be assault. Also, if that were the case, I’d have sued by now. I don’t even know how to sue someone) into a change of clothes then forced to try and play a sport that potentially can give you a well-placed concussion. For these next two exuberant weeks we are all discovering the hell that is basketball. Not only do you have to run back and forth with squeaky sneakers and people trying to block your way, you also have to show some ounce of hand-eye coordination in order to miss the net with a shred of your dignity left. I’m in the midst of considering all this while my best friend, Will shoots basket after basket like it was nothing. Abruptly, he throws the ball at my chest. Because my body’s reflexes are not entirely useless, I do catch the orange ball of promised pain. But only after it rebounds off my chest.

“Dope, you awake there?” he jokes good-naturedly. I’m still staring at the orange object in my hands. Why did they make it that burnt orange looking color? If it was a matter of visibility, why not make it bright red?

“Doctor, we lost him,” Will says gravely to Lin. Lin had ambled over during my mind-rant about basketballs. Lin, being an extraordinary actress, bursts into tears. Will roars with laughter, and soon they are both wiping away tears of amusement.

“God, Liam, why’ve you been such an airhead lately?” Will teases and takes the ball from my hands.

“Just have a lot on my mind,” I mumble in reply. Like the controversy of the standard color for a basketball, I added silently. In all honesty, I have nothing of any true importance on my brain. I’m simply easily distracted. If it weren’t for the need to function in society, I would be a hermit who lives in my own mind rather than face everyone else in the world.

“Like Cindy Crothford?” Will says, staring at the hottest girl of PS 120. It was a miracle that we had gotten her in our gym class this year. It gives everyone else the vigor to actually do their best at sports. Or at least the guys, anyways. The girls tend to just ignore her existence like they are expected too. Cindy has only a few people she knows somewhat well in the class, which means ample opportunity for guys to approach her. She does not complain obviously. She’s liable to kill for attention.

“Unlike you, Will,” Lin steps in, her voice dripping delightfully with acid, “Liam knows how to keep his hormones in check.” I’m thankful that Lin sees that my mind is somewhere else than girls. Apparently “boys my age” should be thinking about girls like Cindy Crothford. But all my mind seems able to think about is things that don’t make sense or don’t matter.

See, girls like Cindy Crothford don’t make me try to do my best at sports. I try very much not to suck as bad as I usually do, but that most likely means me not doing anything at all.

“I don’t think Liam has hormones,” Will grins at me. I glare back.

“There are other things in life besides getting laid,” Lin snaps. “Liam has school on his mind, and his friends, you know, the important things.” I don’t mention that I hardly pay attention in school. She knows I struggle, but at least now she thinks I’m actually concerned. If Angela weren’t bent on me passing junior and senior year, I would be happily working at Lin’s family restaurant for the rest of my life. I’ve had a job there since I was fourteen, and I could see myself happily frying dumplings and busing tables at the noisy Red Tiger for the rest of my pathetic existence.

“Oh, come on Lin,” Will sighs and passes the ball to her. Despite the fact she’s at least a head shorter than me, Lin manages to throw the ball and have it gracefully slip past the synthetic fibers of the net. Another strange thing about basketball: Why did the “basket” not have a bottom to it? Did it originally have a bottom to it, making it a true basket? Or did someone just through the damn ball so hard, it went right through the bottom and someone else pointed out, hey man, that’d be easier than using the ladder! “You know I’m just joking.”

“Maybe, but still. You need to be nicer,” Lin insists. I am used to her fighting battles for me that I didn’t really care about. Will and me will exchange looks every once and a while and burst out laughing when times like these came around. She has a hard time accepting the fact that I think too much. Will tells me this statement at least three times daily, and Lin will always give him a smack in the arm as if it’s offensive. I glance at Will’s face, smiling slightly. I expect to see the look of ill-masked amusement on his face, but instead there’s a hungry look as he watches Cindy Crothford dribble the ball then throws it at the net (and honestly, there is less dribbling of the ball than other things, if you know what I mean).

It hits hard on the backboard, and comes hurtling in our direction. More specifically at my head. Several things happen at once. I brace myself for impact; right as Will jumps towards me to catch the ball so it doesn’t flatten my face like it’s so bent on doing. As I cannot balance very well, I begin to fall forward, towards Will. I reach out, planning on grabbing his arm or shoulder or even his shirt to try and make sure I don’t fall flat on my face so the floor can do the job the ball failed to do. But as I reach out, my hands, to my horror, grab the hem of his gym shorts due to my lack of reaction time. As I fall down, I know I pulled his shorts down, and I hope to God that I didn’t also get his boxers.

But the howls of laughter and the mock catcalls are enough to tell me that it wasn’t just boxers exposed. I’m humiliated for Will, and for myself. I mean, a guy has just pulled down your pants and is now sitting beneath you as the entire class of thirty horny teenagers are watching. I don’t look up for the sake of his dignity, but like that matters. Cindy Crothford is staring right at him, with me flat on the ground, at his feet, the reason he’s never going to be able to face her again.

In record time Will pulls his pants up and runs. I don’t understand why. Will’s the kind of guy who could laugh anything off. Then again, me being right there underneath… well, I guess I do understand. Everyone around me is still roaring with laughter. When I finally pull myself up and stare up at Lin, she’s the color of the scarlet school colors. But for some reason I can’t bring myself to express my embarrassment and everything else. I sit there, and think in almost a numb calm, is Will’s junk really that laugh-worthy?

Whoa, what the hell?

See what I mean when I say I really screwed up this time?

A/N: So, review and tell me what you think!