Hey guys, I am completely revamping the story, 2 years later and with a semi-similar experience under my belt. Just letting you know I'm mostly just making corrections, and putting in words I missed and a couple inconsistencies etc. Thank you for your patience with Coy Chaddieboi. (Also: has anybody noticed the Lolita undertones? That's what I was trying for when I started writing it)
The day I turned sixteen I knew my life was about to change. There was an inner dread I carried around that I couldn't explain. It was a feeling like something was coming to end, maybe everything was, I couldn't be sure. But I knew there would be a new beginning when it all went down. Which is a small piece of absolution, I guess. I knew this feeling had very little to do with my transition from fifteen to sixteen, because the day came and went, the feeling still deep in my chest.
That cold day in February passed and I returned to school on Monday no different than when I had left on Friday.
At lunch, Carol held tight to my arm and rubbed her head on my shoulder, trying to act like a "girlfriend." Carol was the kind of girl that could cling to you and you would never know she's there. Unless she made herself known loudly, pushing other girls away from me and laughing too aggressively in my ear.
Because she forced herself on me so, all the boys would see us and coo: "Is that your girlfriend?" and the like. Carol would bat her eyes at me and sigh, trying to get a reaction. I didn't like her. And I didn't want her. But I put up with it, for appearances.
What I needed at this point was an escape. An escape from the boys who rough-housed and called each other "faggot." An escape from Carol.
On the way home from school, still newly sixteen, I tried to think of what I could do to take my mind off things. I knew some people who could sell me some pot, but I didn't have any money or a place to do it safely for the first time.
I figured I could just steal a few quick chugs off my father's tequila bottle when I got home- and I was on this train of thought when I was distracted.
I had been walking down the sidewalk next to a liquor store, and there he was. He leaned on the wall, a cigarette between his gentle, curved lips, and blue eyes peered out at me from under his thick curly locks.
The leather of his rough jacket faintly squeaked when he brought his hand up to pinch the cigarette between two fingers, the button on his sleeve clinked against the pins on his jacket lapels.
Our eyes briefly met and I had to look away. I knew this breathtaking boy could see in my face what I thought of him. I was ashamed of the thoughts that hit me, and the thoughts I thought he was thinking of me. Even hoped he was thinking of me. I lowered my eyes and kept walking.
There was another soft squeak and I glanced back to see him watching me go, hand in his pocket, cigarette butt on the ground, smoke still clinging about his mouth. I rounded the corner to the front of the liquor store, to bide time mostly, and bought a soda from the vending machine. Silently, I tried to justify myself. I was minding my own business. He was staring. I hesitantly headed back toward the corner of the store and glanced around the parking lot to make sure he wasn't watching me. He was nowhere in sight so I snuck a peek at where he had been. All I found was an empty sidewalk and blank wall.
Feeling inexplicably rejected, I continued toward home. Home was just a little way down the street from that liquor store. So I didn't have much time to ponder over what those icy blue orbs meant with the way they pried. I can't explain the way he occupied my mind so thoroughly through homework, the evening, and long into that night.
Finally, after recounting all his details to myself, because I couldn't talk to anyone else about it, I decided his eyes had made the impression in my head. There was something about them. They made me feel different about myself. I felt like he understood me better than anyone my own age, but that was okay. He made me want to open myself up, and stop hiding. But, of course, it was probably all in my head. With that, I rolled over and let myself fall asleep. Now, reader, is when the story truly begins.
This story is one of the ones I am most proud of and plan to publish it some day, maybe on I, unfortunately, only have half of it saved on my computer. The whole thing is on a neon green floppy that I have misplaced. Meaning I'm going to have to find the spirals I originally wrote it in and re-do the last 44 pages. But, the things you do for love. I was not going to post this story, I'm doing it on a whim. So, I hope those of you reading feel extraordinarily special, because you are. ;) Those of you reoccurring characters from my other stories, love you and your support! All please read and review!!!