My outfit seemed good. My parents were gone for the day and had taken my sister Kelly to school. My 'rents wouldn't be back until possibly midnight, as always. They'd kill me if they say my outfit otherwise. It was a gray plaid skirt, brilliantly pink shoes that were some rip off brand of converse, and my favorite white shirt that sat baggy at the top part but grew tight around my waist and over the top of my skirt. The make up would probably want them to kill me more.
You see, the problem with me wearing an outfit like this and their terrible reaction was that I was a boy. A damn fine looking one at that, but being gay was so much easier when you didn't have to actually be a guy. Besides, I looked better in skirts than I would pants. Besides, I don't think I've cut my hair in three years, but when my parents were around I at least kept it down and unfabulous. When it started to curl I looked more like a boy.
People may think cross dressing as a cure for being gay would probably make it worse, but it saved me from ridicule and being shoved into lockers like I was last year. Back then I went to school at Boston Prep. Massachusetts was not friendly to my sexuality, especially when it was really only the people at my school. My own parents didn't know, as if I hadn't given them tips with pink pants and glitter nail polish. Maybe they just weren't around enough to notice.
A honk outside made me grab a rubber band and my school bag, a messenger pack that could be considered unisex, if it was noticed my my parents. My friend Harley was picking me up. And we were just friends, if anyone cared, because he was straight beyond belief but a bit of a relationship phobe. Also, we had no interest in each other in any way. I'll admit he was attractive, with a strong jaw, large build, but something about him just made me look away and ignore his image.
"How's it goin', Sammy?" He asked me and I grinned, shrugging my shoulders. My name, thank god, was on the roster at school under Sam, so people believed I was Samantha instead of Samuel. Since my parents were too absent as I filled out the registration I put my gender under female, too.
"The usual. An hour of homework I only finished half of and mismatched socks." I told him and he glanced towards my feet. Sure enough, I was wearing one yellow sock and one blue, but who cared? It happened often in my house, since nothing stayed paired up. He laughed, driving from my house as I was just finishing pulling my hair up. I left strands handing around and swept my bangs sideways.
Luckily, I was tiny for my age. At seventeen most guys were growing past six feet I was five seven at most, a little petite, and if my facial hair was going to grow in hell would start, but so far I was safe. People just believed the illusion of breasts I made with a bra that was padded. "Well, you did more homework than me, considering I forgot there was such a thing." Harley joked again.
Sighing woefully and shaking my head at him, though it wasn't actually woe and shame, I just adjusted the pile of bracelets on my left wrist. The radio was quiet ever since before I got in the car, and with that as our background noise we stayed comfortably quiet the rest of the way to school. Shutting the car door behind me when we got there I walked up to the school itself with Harley. Once we got through the doors though he put a hand on my shoulder and wished me a good day. Waving at him as he looked over his shoulder I couldn't be more grateful for him as a friend.
Heading off to class I hummed to myself, eyes downcast. Only problem with my habit of counting tiles was that I never payed attetion to anything else. Soon I had bumped into someone. A tall someone, I new, as my nose hit their chest. Oh boy, I thought, looking up at a devishly handsome guy.
But I didn't recognize him. He had black hair and it was cut to cover a majority of his face, but many guys were like that. This guy, though, was new to me, and in his one brown eye I saw the gleem of a smile, though there wasn't one on his face. "I'm sorry." He said first. I was too awed to notice the apology.
He had to be at least six foot, possibly more. Biting my lip I realized that he had a hand on my forearm, probably having tried to steady me when we collided. The touch made me wild as his warm, rough hand was on my skin. As he moved, grazing my fingers sligtly with his, I was falling back into reality. Damn, I was staring at him.
"Ah, sorry. Spacey." I tried to explain and almost stuttered. Tossing my face down in embarrassment I just nodded to myself. "I'll, uh, possibly see you around?"
With my silly questioning tone I turned and walked around him. Thankfully he didn't stop me, but as I was about to turn down into the hall my class was at I glanced back. He was smiling and shoveling books into a locker. Shoving the end of my thumb nail between my teeth I just went to my class, not biting or tearing my nail off like disgusting people. I only like to put things in my mouth occasionally.
It took a nerve racking ten minutes for the bell to ring. I wasn't sure why I was so frazzled. The whole wait I bounced my knee under my desk, my nail between my teeth still. As people started to file into the class I stopped my silly behaivior and sat tall and still, hands in my lap like there was no slouch in my posture five seconds ago. Maybe my nerves were necisary, I pondered, as that strager of a guy I ran into came in this class room.
Mr. Roberts stood and talked to the boy, and when the bell rang he cleared his throat loudly. "Pay attention, class. This is our new student, Giovanni." He announced and I looked at the black clad male.
"Uh, just Gio, if you don't mind." He said mostly to the teacher, but loud enough for everyone to hear. I was charmed by the sounds of his voice, so melodic as though he were speaking in the low tones of a beautiful cello. I didn't particularly like classical, but I could hear that voice all day if needed.
Mr. Roberts nodded. "All right. Gio, you can sit next to Samantha Baker. Sam, raise your hand?" The teacher requested and, though I was nervous, my hand shot up as Gio's eyes scanned the class. He grinned hypnotically and strutted over.
Okay, not exactly strutted, by he had a perfect stride that caused me to zone out fo a moment. I was back as he sat in the empty desk next to mine, so close on my left since the wall was to my right. Stupid disorganized rows of desks, making me almost bump arms with him if I just stretched a little bit. "Still spacey?" Gio asked me.
Of course, I thought stupidly instead of saying it alloud. I almost felt my cheeks turn hot when I realized I had been staring at his sweat shirt sleeve. "Extremely so. I'm probably the reason someone invented coffee." I joked, which was serious for me since I was usually so work oriented when it came to class. Never had I said anything un-school related.
But Gio laughed, which was even better than his regular voice. "Coffee was invented in 1901, so unless you are over a hundred years old I have to doubt that." He teased back and I caught myself grinning just a bit. Mr. Roberts cleared his throat, looking right at us, so I pressed my mouth into an unamused thin line as he started teaching the class.
Giovanni and I exchanged no more words for now.