Swollen Heads & High School Boys

The One Who Frowns

I don't even know his name. Maybe he was a sophomore, but I couldn't be sure. I've never even seen him around the halls but it's not like I pay attention to sophomores. Especially if they're guys.

Lagoon blue eyes stared at me under dark wavy hair. He was a little taller than me, but kinda skinny. He was telling me something, but his expression totally didn't fit the current situation.

*****

I'm Derek McBride, a Senior at Shallow Valley High. I have a little under a month to graduate and not to sound egoistic, but I'm the most popular guy in school. I'm smart, sporty, and good-looking if I may say so myself, somewhat of a good cook but my only flaw: I've never really paid mind to those that aren't in my circle. The popular circle. I have never lacked attention from females, since they basically threw themselves at me. I'm like the whole package to them.

Okay, now I'm sounding a bit egoistic.

That morning as I opened my locker, a neatly folded green paper fell out in the shape of a crane. Opening the note, I read 'Please meet me after school behind the gym's storage room. It would help me if you'd keep an open mind too'. After reading that, I can't say I was not intrigued. Why would I need to bring open-mindedness? I asked myself with a scoff.

Now I know why.

"Please go out with me... just until you graduate. Then you can go ahead and forget about me after that. It's just that I've had a thing for you since freshman year, and now seems like a good time to... I don't know, come clean?" the sophomore faltered a bit but got his point across. He wasn't blushing like someone would when face to face with their crush. This unnerved me and made me quickly started wondering, am I being pranked? Was he put up to this?

"I don't even know you," I answered a bit coldly. "Plus, I'm a guy."

His eyes roamed over me, and he proceeded to blatantly checking me out. "I've noticed." He pointed this out in a calm manner with his hands shoved inside his pockets. I was way more nervous than he was, and he was the one confessing.

I shook my head. "Sorry dude, I just don't roll that way. I-I'm straight, " I stood awkwardly facing him, and finally saw a reaction out of him.

His shoulders sagged, and I felt a sense of dejection coming from him. "I understand. You may leave whenever," he said returning to a sketch book that was propped up on a stone nearby.

This was by far the most indifferent confession I had ever gotten. I'm used to being begged, cried over and yelled at when I rejected a girl, so this reaction wasn't what I'd expected. I'm sure that guys get fidgety when revealing their feelings, but this dude was the opposite. He was distant and unmoved.

"What's your name?"

"It shouldn't matter now," he said dismissively already back to drawing in his sketch pad. It was as if he hadn't just admitted that he carried a torch for me.

Well, that's a bit cold, isn't it? "Wow. Okay then," I answered a bit offended."Why don't you tell me who put you up to this?"

His head snapped up at this, the glare in his eyes pinning me in my spot. "This wasn't some joke. Don't take me for one of your gullible groupie," he glared in a composed manner. "I'll find most of them working at McDonald's or Wendy's in the next five years anyway."

"Holy s**t man. That's... so negative," I said to him.

"That's life," he answered, and shut his sketch book in one move. Getting up, he brushed dirt off of himself, quickly tucking his stuff in one of those artsy bags that painters usually walk around with. "Anyways, I'm done here. See you around Derek McBride."

He didn't look back as he walked away. What's more, I just stood there for some time after he left wondering why the f**k was I feeling like I was the one who got rejected.

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It was way harder to find him than I had expected. I didn't know his name, class or even what grade he was in. He was like a ghost. Only a few people seem to know about him, but they knew as much as I did; and that was next to absolutely nothing. I wasn't quiet sure if he had friends.

After lurking around in the halls for three days, asking a couple people if they knew him, I finally got his name. Patrick Smiley. How damn ironic? I'm not even joking. A guy like him, with an ultra positive last name like Smiley was the universe's way of mocking him. I got this information from Gossip Queen Gloria Reyes, who knew almost everyone in the school. At this point, I was already wondering if it was all in my mind. He was like a damn ghost.

Gossip Gloria said that you could usually find him in the Art club. Mentally face palming myself, I wondered why I hadn't thought about that. After all, he was carrying art supplies. She seemed more interested in finding out why I was looking for him. I had to make up some shitty excuse about wanting him to draw my sister's portrait.

I skipped past the Art Club on the third day, driven by pure impulse but didn't see him inside. Why am I doing this? The thought had been crossing my mind over and over for the past couple days, but I had no answers to provide. So I just winged it. I didn't understand what was the feeling that made me want to undergo these methods to pursue him.

"You're making the other painters nervous. You've passed here looking in for the fourth time today," a long black haired guy came out saying. "What do you want McBride?"

I didn't know him. It was my first time seeing this guy, but it didn't surprise me that he knew me. Everyone did. It did catch me off guard how forward and cold he had spoken to me. " Well, if you were nice I'd tell you," I retorted feigning hurt.

He rolled his eyes, not buying my act. "You're not God's gift to world, you know. We don't have to answer to you just because you're popular. Don't pass here again or I'll let the Hall Monitor know you're skipping class," he said turning to leave. Jeez, what's with these mouthy teenagers?

Quickly I called out, "Wait, wait, hold up." He stopped and spun around with his foot tapping on the floor impatiently and his hands on his waist. Like a girl. Now looking closely at him, if he wasn't dressed like a guy, he could easily pass for a tomboy. "Um... Does... Is Patrick Smiley a part of the art club?

He stared at me for minute wondering if he should answer the question. Narrowing his eyes at me in curiosity, he asked, "Why?"

"I heard that he draws and I was wondering if he would do a portrait for me."

"Impossible. His area of expertise are animals, landscapes, and scenes," he replied flatly.

"Can I at least see him?" I asked in a hurry as he was about to leave again.

He clicked his tongue impatiently at me and gave me a moody glare. "You can, but he'll tell you the same thing. You can find him behind the gym's storage room when he's not here," he said walking away and this time locking the door to the art room in my face. Rude brat!

I felt stupid for the second time for not checking the same spot. It would be a perfect area for a seeming loner like Patrick to be. Criminals do go back to the scene of the crime; not that confessing to me was one. The way my mind couldn't stop wondering about him, felt like a crime had been done though.

I didn't go behind the gym's storage room. Although every fibre of me said I should just go sneak a peek. Then what? What was I going to say? Especially someone as unimpressed as him. Obviously the thing about the portrait was a lie.

I reached home with an exhausted brain. I kept mulling it over in my head. Had I become interested in him? How would I? That was our first conversation that day. Was I really considering his confession? I decided to Google him, and found a bunch of paintings that had made it to different amateur art magazines. He was an upcoming young artist in the Art World and I didn't even know about it or about him.

Exhaling, I scratched my head feeling a bit remorseful of my conceitedness. Again the question pressured on, why was I still going on about him? He had looks but I wasn't exactly attracted to him. I liked soft things; cute things. He was neither of those; he's a guy after all, I thought to myself. His personality was a little too inanimate for my tastes too.

He was a young talented guy, why would he be so imitative and fall for the popular guy? Wasn't that like emotional suicide?

Then again, I'm sure he had thought about this too. Patrick might be strange, but I doubt he'd do something like this just for the fun of it. How would he have known that I wouldn't go around selling him out? Or is it that he doesn't really care about the people around him? Being that the case, how bad could it be to go on a few dates with him?

"Just for a month huh?" I repeated out loud but deep in thought as I stared at my bedroom ceiling. " What would two guys do on a date anyway?"

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"What are you doing?"

Morning came before I knew it and so did lunch. I woke up feeling like a good Samaritan and about to make some gloomy guy's month interesting. Finding him right where they'd said he'd be, I had bought my lunch and his' just for good measure. What can I say? Somewhere during last night, I had made up my mind to take his offer.

The rock that he was sitting on served as a bench for at least four people. Reaching there, it was clear that he hadn't heard me arrived.

Engrossed in his drawing, he had a pencil in his mouth, one in his hand drawing insistently and a couple in his lap. I didn't say a word as I sat myself next to him. "We're having lunch," I stated and passed him a subway that I got from the cafeteria. He watched it dubiously, almost as if I'd drugged it or something. He hadn't reached for the meal and I shook the brown bag lightly as I took a bite out of mine.

"You're really going to waste food?" I asked. "While millions are dying of starvation, you, Patrick Smiley, are going to waste food?" As I had expected, he took the bag reluctantly out of my hand and sat on the far edge of the make-shift bench.

He took a bite out of the six inch sandwich and stared straight ahead, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'd appreciate it if you don't go around asking people about me."

"Well, you wouldn't tell me your name. How was I suppose to find you?,"

"And why does that matter? You already gave me my answer. You don't need to know who I am," he said putting a half eaten subway on his lap. He stared at the subway in confusion. The wind picked up a little, as silence descended for a minute. It ruffled his hair nicely, and it bounced off his shoulder. His dark maroon colored lips were in what could be scowl, but could easily pass for a pout.

His eyes wavered but his demeanor was passive and indifferent. Clearing my throat, I spoke the same lines I had practiced in my head. " Well believe it or not, I haven't been called out by a guy before. So don't you think I'd be a little surprise?" I asked, now feeling a bit awkward. This sounded way better in my head.

"Don't tell me. You went home, thought about it, and had a change of heart," he guessed on point as his eyes flicked over to me in a sarcastic manner. His eyes a deeper shade of blue than I remembered, then again he was closer to me than the last time. I was able to see the contours of his face clearly under the bright afternoon sun.

Nodding my head in a matter-of-way, I confirmed, "Basically." That was when his face went from suspicion to a full on rosiness that I totally did not expect. It caught me in mid-bite. His blue eyes widen as they stared at me before turning away quickly. His ink-stained fingers reached up to cover up his blush, making him look all sorts appealing all too suddenly.

Unconsciously, I shifted closer to him tugging at his shoulders. "Hey, hey, what's with that reaction?" I asked curiously and a tad surprised. So he can pull that face too huh, I thought amused. He'd been pretty unconcerned with everything up until now, so the expression he was making now was nice to have witnessed.

Maybe this guy really does like me.

He shrugged off my tugging hand and his free hand pushed me away at the chest. "I-I just... I had already resigned myself to the fact that you said no."

I smiled triumphantly inside my head. "Look at you being all cute and s**t," I said leaning back comfortably and took a quick slug of my grape juice. He was still looking away, but I could still see reddened ears. "Big brother is going to take care of you for this month," I continued merrily and reached over to pat him on the back.

Suddenly, in a quick reflex my hand was locked with his. The previously blushing face had been eradicated from his features. He now stared at me with intent and premeditation, eyebrows twitching. "You're so wrong if you think I'm looking for brotherly guidance." He leaned in and popped me a quick one. His mouth making sure to suck in my bottom lip and top lip, massaging them both with his tongue. I, on the other hand, was frozen in my seat. I didn't want to respond to him, but he drew out a moan from somewhere unknown within me. I didn't notice that my pulse had started racing or that there was this increasing pounding inside my ears. Pulling back he stared at me with dark eyes that sent a shiver down my spine, "Tastes like grapes."

With that he stood up and readjusted his clothes, busily brushing himself off. He took his sketch pad, placing them in his bag. He was now indifferent again. I was still momentarily stunned. I was just kissed by a guy. What the hell just happened?!

"Listen Derek, I'm not some damn charity case. So if you think you're doing me a favor by doing this, you might as well just don't appear in front of me again," Patrick said calmly. "I don't play games and I won't tolerate any half-assessed reciprocation from you." He let out a sigh, and drove his hand into his hair smoothly sweeping them backward, just to have them fall back perfectly in their wavy place.

"You kissed me," I finally got out lamely.

"Well, yeah. Because you said something stupid, and I felt the need to prove a point," he said controlled and resigned. He looked into his hand to find that he still had the brown paper bag in his grip. Suddenly, he blushed out of the blue again. "T-thanks. Thanks for the lunch by the way. It was nice," and then he disappeared once again.

My head was still wrapped around the fact that I was just kissed by another guy. Yet I didn't hate it. Well, sure I was shocked, but it didn't repulse me like I thought it would. His lips were surprisingly softer than they seemed and tasted minty. Unlike others, he was unpredictable. He blushed, and looked really cute when he did.

I noticed my fingers were unconscious tracing over my lips. He was a good kisser, sue me. Just like last time, he had disappeared again. Leaving me to battle with my thoughts and wondering if maybe, I wasn't the one that was actually being toyed with.

Sure I didn't have to go through with it, but I didn't like feeling guilty. I wasn't really taking him in as a charity case, but I guess I wasn't being all that serious about it either. So it indeed was a pitiful half-assed attempt with no true game plan on my part.

It was a whole other deal trying to get his number but nothing is impossible for me. I was able to get his number the very next day after our lunch together, from one of his classmates. "That's unusual. He doesn't talk to people," she had said curiously. "You're not going to pull some senior prank on him right?"

While asking around for his contact number, I got that a lot. Never have I been a bully, so it made me uneasy that people thought of me that way. As if they weren't sure if I should be trusted with his information. They all thought I was some sort of senior bad guy, about to prank some defenseless sophomore art student. If only they knew that he wasn't as defenseless as they presumed, I thought recalling the kiss.

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What can I tell you? Whether it was wrong or right, I guess I wasn't thinking very clearly when I was around him. He was still being his unusual detached self during our outings and dates but it was somehow different. I just couldn't get enough when it came down to Patrick

Now, don't get me wrong. It was fun and everything poking good jokes at him but I still kept my distance. The fact of the matter is that, he probably had real emotions for me. The month had whined down and before I knew it, we had passed everyday of it in each other's company, in some way or another. There was this sense of freedom by being with him. Even if uncertainty had been swimming between us for some time, he never pressured me. He wouldn't even let me kiss him, which by the way, irked me for some unknown reason.

At school I'd look for him but he'd avoid me like a leper. Once we were outside, we'd have to be far from where we'd be noticed. He was so cold some times that I had to wonder if he actually did like me. That kind of thing bothered me and I didn't understand why.

"I'm Derek McBride, ain't nobody gonna talk s**t about me," I had said one time while we hanged out behind the Gym's storage room.

He had gotten really angry at that. "Derek after you graduate you'll just fade away and a new school Prince will be found. People are fickle creatures. You think that just because you're 'Derek McBride' that they won't slander your name with gay slurs?" He laughed dryly and grimaced. "It's the opposite. You're status actually makes you the perfect target for humiliation. So don't speak so ignorantly."

Obviously, he was talking as if he'd experienced it himself. That made me feel guilty once again. Of course I wouldn't know about the struggles of minorities. That made me realize, how little I knew about his world. As the month grew to it's close, he was still an enigma. It just felt so natural being with him.

"Look at you," Patrick sighed lightly. We had just been handed out our Graduation Robes and although he didn't insist, I knew he wanted me to try it on. "It's not all that bad. Even if the green reminds me of puke."

This was supposedly our last weekend together and I wasn't sure how I felt about that. My graduation was three days away and I was currently trying on my Robe in the back of the library. Students didn't come here often and it was a perfect spot for spending a little time together. "Really?" I narrowed my eyes at him with sarcasm layered in my tone. "Don't be giving me visual descriptions like that."

He snorted laughing at me. "Fine. Not exactly puke but it's definitely on the more pukish side of green."

"Oh you know I look dashing," I retorted hugging him around the waist. He placed his hand on my arms trying to have me let him go. "I won't let go until you admit it."

He was chuckling lightly as he nestled there. "Okay. Okay. You look..." instead of saying it, he leaned his head back and kissed me lightly. We hadn't kissed since the first time behind the gym's storage area, and I was caught off guard. His lips lingered over mine a little as he moved them along with mine hesitantly. It only took me a second to realize that it was really happening this time. My lips tingled; all too ready as I opened up to deepened the kiss.

Suddenly, a book fell off a shelf and the both of us jumped six feet apart, like two little kids caught doing something wrong. I felt my stomach drop when I saw the curly red head of hair belonging to none other that Gossip Gloria dart away in the blink of an eye. Had she seen us? I knew she probably did, but I was hoping that she didn't.

I don't think Patrick noticed though. He had turned away from the noise and had a hand holding his chest. He looked little shaken up. "Sorry, I... I got carried away," he whispered weakly.

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That night I had stayed up looking at my phone till late. It had been set on New Message with his number in the recipients bar for at least 4 hours, before I finally decided to message him to meet me at the local fair at 10am. I really didn't want the month to be over. He didn't respond and I couldn't find him at school, but decided to come anyway, buying myself a bag of cotton candy to snack on while waiting.

Two hours had passed since then and I was feeling nervous. For the life of me, I did not know why. I wondered if he wasn't coming or maybe he didn't get my message. Standing there looking around, I didn't expect so much people to be out here. My palms felt clammy and I felt like a pole just standing there, looking at my watch every few minutes. I did that every 20 or so minutes. Maybe it was just to busy myself. Maybe just to let people know I wasn't some creep but was actually waiting for some one. A certain complicated person who may or may not show up.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught sight of him. He had on headphones and was looking around at the multitude of people like a lost sheep. His grey plain shirt clung to him slightly and jeans hugged his slim waist. His hair was styled but it kept being blown back by the breeze. I waved a bit in order to get him to spot me. It took a frantic mother chasing after her kid, almost running him over, to finally notice me flailing in the corner.

I felt myself let out a nervous breath as he rushed up to me. He had a light bead of sweat on his forehead as if he hurried over. You can say I was sort of... happy that he came. Grinning at him, I gave him the barely touched candy a shake, saying "Cotton candy?"

"Sorry, can we go somewhere..." Patrick looked over his shoulder as he got bumped into me "...a little less crowded?" As I steadied him, I noticed how uncomfortable he was. Of course he'd be, I thought mentally face palming myself, he was more of a secluded person. People like that prefer quiet places, I sigh internally for not realizing.

Without waiting for my response, he lead the way to a huge tree situated on a nearby hill. The spot had a nice view over the fair, and it was slightly quieter. Well, as quiet as it can with the loud noises and music from the fair below. I got the feeling that he probably came here often. The view was amazing. I imagined him drawing here under the tree that provided a rather perfect shade away from the hot rays of the sun.

He sat at the base of the tree, leaning against the trunk and I laid flatly on the grass, with my hands behind my head. He had taken the bag of candy giving me a mumbled thanks, and had started munching on it while I got myself comfortable.

Just when I thought he wasn't going to say anything, he placed his the snack in his lap staring at it intently. "I thought you wouldn't be here. With you being too so busy with graduation and all," Patrick continued. "My phone was getting some repairs and I went to look for it this morning, that's when I saw your text and the time. I thought... for sure you'd have got home."

Staring up at him, I grinned teasingly, "so you ran here?"

I had a good view of him from my laying position and saw his unemotionally face scrunch up and under his collar taint pink. He was pale enough that I could see the colour changes and that confirmed my question. Instead of answering me, he said, "I don't like crowds. I didn't know you'd invite me somewhere this crowded for our last date. I didn't have time to change."

"Well, I wanted to bring you out here because you're too much of an art hermit and my other dates seem to like it here," I said before hearing how bad it sounded and hurriedly sat up, my shoulders brushing against his. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean it to sound like that."

My reaction made him chuckled lightly and he resumed snacking on the cotton candy. The sound made me thoughtlessly gulp. The sound of him snickering at my expense was rich. "No. I get it. I mean, who doesn't want to come to a fair. It's like the perfect first date... for a girl."

I laughed along with him. "Well, give me an idea for next time."

"Next time, huh," he repeated in an almost forlorn way. This was supposedly our last meeting, and here I was talking about a next time. No wonder he made that sad face. Still, his finger tapped against his cheek giving a small "hmm", his lips pursing slightly before saying, "anywhere there's food, I guess."

The developing blush crawling into his cheeks, even if he wasn't technically smiling, was making him look like such a darling.

Before I could stop myself, my hand had already reached over neatly tucking his hair behind his ears. By doing so, he blushed more, but didn't move away. "I wanna say you should smile more, but you're frown ain't that bad. You remind me of a pouty kid when you frown," I laughed.

"Oh haha, very funny. If I wanted to have a permanent grin on my face, I'd audition for a Colgate commercial," Patrick jested. "At least I'd get paid. Take you for example, you've got like a really nice smile. You'd get paid the big bucks."

Lifting an eyebrow at him, I couldn't help but smirk. As if noticing what he had said, he stuffed a piece of cotton candy into mouth, blushing red. "So you think I have a really nice smile?" I asked nudging with my shoulders playfully. "Is it the perfect teeth or the dimples?"

"This cotton candy tastes amazing," Patrick answered randomly trying to ignore the question but I could see him fighting to keep his trademark aloofness. I was starting to think that maybe he wasn't all that indifferent. Never mind the fact that I was exceedingly starting to find him way more appealing than I first did.

"Aha, sure," I added sarcastically. "C'mon on now. Don't change the topic."

He narrowed his dancing blue eyes at me. This time they were lighter. Forget about trying to make him smile. It was way easier to read him, if I watched him in the eyes. They danced lightly but I knew he wasn't going to let on. Looking away, he bit into his lip as if wondering if he should answer. His character was like a mind-trip to me. Although he wasn't all smiles and had a very complicated personality, he overwhelmed me with fascination.

Breathing in as he leaned back even more. He spoke, more to the wind and himself, than to me personally. "I'll... miss your smile."

That pang that I had been feeling for the pas week killed me. Why did it hurt knowing that we'd probably never be with each other like this again? Unintentionally, I leaned into him. His eyes widen and I watched him about to close them, ready give in to this magnetic pull. I think I heard him whispered my name, but then I remembered how soft his lips had felt the last time, and I wanted to feel them against mine again. When suddenly, he stopped me, a hand planted in the middle of my chest.

"Um..." I was at a lost for a minute wanting nothing more than to kiss him. Was it not okay to do so?

"Sorry Derek, it's not that I don't want to," Patrick explained quickly, "but for your sake... have you forgotten we're in public?"

My mouth fell open a bit and I looked around noticing the few people that were able to see up the hill, were watching us with strange looks. It killed the mood and slapped reality in my face. Why was I excited that he nearly allowed me to kiss him? I don't know how I felt about that, but I'll admit that I actually wanted to; still do. He noticed the look of embarrassment on my face, and stood up awkwardly.

"Well, it's been nice," he said now sobered up and controlled once again. I felt myself miss his reddening cheek, and felt another pang inside. "Thanks for inviting me and... for the candy."

"W-wait... where're you going?" I asked quickly running after him. "Don't you wanna go on some rides or play some games. Surely you don't classify that as a date after all we've done."

"I don't expect us to go to public outings Derek, but I'm really glad you invited me," he said giving a shy half-smile. "We don't have to go down there. I'm okay with just this." The way he said it, I do believe that he wholeheartedly thought so too. The way his eyes were dancing was as if he couldn't possibly ask for anything more.

I gave up.

I just had to go with my gut and my gut wanted him to stay. "We're going," I replied bluntly and tugged him by force through his whispered protests. He wasn't going to make a scene, but he sure as hell wasn't making his abduction easy. "If this was our last date and I wouldn't want you to go yet. So shut up and let me feed you."

As if his body responded on his behalf, I heard his stomach rumbled comically. We both stood there before I just had to laugh. Not laughing would've been a crime. "Just bury me now," he stated embarrassed trying to hide his face in his other hand. "I'm glad I amuse you," he retorted sarcastically at my outburst of laughter. "Fine, I'll go. But..." he interjected as we got nearer to the crowd before us.

"But?" I prompted waiting for him to continue.

"You've got to let go of my hand," he replied. "People are staring."

I wasn't even conscious that I was still holding unto his hand and a little embarrassed myself, I did as told. People were indeed staring, but I didn't understand why that mattered to him. It shouldn't matter to him, if I was the one initiating it.

That's the strange thing. I wanted them to stare because even if it's just for tonight, I wanted them to know that he was mine.

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I was so pre-occupied in understanding the feelings that I was experiencing that I had completely forgotten about the incident in the library. Making that either a really huge mistake, or the best thing that could have happened to me.

The night before had been by the best time I've had. He was way more opened and smiled way more than I expected him to. Somehow through out the night, and with the help of the big crowd squishing us together as we tried to maneuver through them, I had taken his hand into mines. So technically, we were holding hands in public. The only difference was that, I hid our joined hands in my jacket pocket.

He blushed scarlet, but he didn't withdrew his hand like he had done many times before. I had stayed up the whole night. We had fun at the fair, then went to a shabby little restaurant with mind blowing food and ended up back at the hill where we watched the fair empty out the remaining crowd and the rides closing down for the night. The lights came off and soon we were basking in the lights of just the stars and moon.

You could say that it was movie like.

With reluctance on his part, I shared my much warmer coat with him. Then again, all I wanted was for him to sit between my legs and have him lean on me, while I wrap him up with my coat and arms. Thinking about us having that final moment, with nothing more to go from there, left me with an unsatisfied thirst in my mouth.

Now the question that plagued me was, did I want it to end here? But unlike the other times that I've questioned myself, I actually had the answer this time.

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On Monday, the senior class had the last graduation rehearsal. Due to my mind being filled with no other thoughts than Patrick, and my stomach being filled with food, I was extremely blind to my surroundings. I was about to leave my lunch table, when a heap of books were suddenly slammed down harshly unto the table. The sound echoing unnaturally loud in what I had just noticed was a rare and quiet cafeteria. Usually students were mostly on about making noise and being their usually loud boisterous selves. "You're a real piece of work McBride."

Looking up, I stared at the familiar long black haired guy, who I had met once before at the art club, where he had slam the door in my face. Sighing confused I answered, "ah, it's you again. Tired of slamming doors in your Senior's faces? Now you slamming books unto their desks?"

"Enjoying yourself there? After what you've done to Patrick?"

My eyebrows furrowed but my tone went serious. "Wait a minute there. I seriously don't know what you're talking about? What happened to Patrick?"

His face seemed to get even more red with anger. "Everyone knows, you s**t. Now you sit there and act dumb." Completely ignoring his language towards me, I took a look around. Everyone was watching over my table, and were talking lowly over their shoulders. It was obvious of whom they were speaking of and I knew exactly who did this.

I gripped the kid by the collar and pulled him into me, pissed at his attitude. "What happened to Patrick?"

"You should know. Didn't you tell every one that Patrick was hitting on you? That he was trying to turn you gay? You are some type of f****d up, aren't you?" he gritted out seething at me like I was the knife that stabbed him in the back. "What did he ever do to you?"

I didn't want to hear any more. Without meaning to, I tossed him to the side and he stumbled. I was so wrapped up in thinking of how I should keep Patrick with me that I let s**t hit the fan harder than expected. I cleared out of the cafeteria quickly and begun searching for Patrick. I even skipped class as I checked every where I knew he'd be. I raced to my locker to get my phone to call him, and on the screen there was a really long message waiting for me from Patrick.

"Sup? By now you've probably heard huh. Listen, you've already completed your end of the promise. You don't know this, but when I confessed, I told myself if you accepted me, I'd take the fall if we were ever found out. Seems like Gloria found out, and well,... I handled it.

So just roll with it. Thank You. For everything."

Frustrated, I slammed my locker shut cursing under my breath. By now students who got let out early, passed me by, giving me strange looks. Steeling myself, I strode out the doors to find Patrick getting into a car, and from the steps I could see the driver was that long hair kid that kept giving me an attitude.

"Patrick!!" I shouted and saw his head whip up, along with the attention of many others that were already leaving the campus. "Don't you dare go anywhere, or so help me!"

His face didn't betray any emotions. It's like he had locked himself up with an iron mask, his blue eyes steely and cold. He looked at his friend with concerned eyes, as the other sent daggers my way for a reason unknown to me. My shout had couple students looking through their windows from the upstairs classes. With my head held high, I walked briskly towards him.

"Derek," he acknowledge with a nod. "You've read my message. Let it go. I swear, I won't say anything."

"You! " I loudly said. One, I was mad because I felt like I'd been the only one thinking about him, and two is because I've just realized that I reaaaaly didn't want to let him go. "Why are you deciding things on your own?"

Looking at other directions, anywhere but at me, he said, "I already explained that to you."

By now, people were gathering around. Let's just say I was making a scene on purpose, I knew he didn't like this. I finally understood why he went all the way to keep us hidden from the public eye. I thought he was just being his usual anti-social self, not knowing he was trying to protect me from the discrimination that he knew would happen. This only made me see my feelings clearer.

"What do you mean by 'just roll with it'?" I said to him. "Let me say something, you don't get to decide for me. I'm not just gonna roll with it like that. Do I seem that heartless to you?"

He shook his head, obviously confused. "Derek," he sighed irritated, obviously not wanting to have this talk in front of so many spectators. "Michael, let's go," Patrick said to the long hair kid in the driver seat as he got in and closed the door. I stood there like a statue, mentally panicking as Michael gunned the engine and I thought he'd drive off with Patrick in the front seat. He was telling Patrick something frustratedly, and then suddenly he shut off the car engine, slamming his hands on the wheel. He stormed out of the car, Patrick following behind him, and before I knew it, his fist connected with the left side of my jaw.

"I f*****g hate people like you," he seethed when he saw that I didn't go down. I didn't retaliate, even though it hurt like a son-of-a-b***h, because I saw it; which would have been so clear if I had only paid more attention. He liked Patrick; probably had liked him for way longer than I did.

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it okay. I like him, heck, I might be in love with him for all I know. Even if he decides to walk away, he deserves to know," I said and walked up into his face pushing him backwards. "Where's your courage man?"

"Not like I had a chance anyway, since it's always been you to start with."

"If you had confessed, maybe he'd be yours," I said massaging my jaw with my hand. "Then again, I'm glad you didn't," I smirked.

I was sent daggers again through his glare, and he looked away from me towards Patrick. "You heard him. Loud and clear. You're welcome." Michael said to him exasperated, but took a gentler tone when he saw the shocked look on Patrick's face. "Don't worry about me... it happens. I'll be okay."

Patrick patted him on shoulders, giving him an understanding but sympathetic nod. "Derek, take me home. I don't want an audience witnessing us making up," he said with a blush creeping up his cheeks.

That one sentence made something bubbled up in me and I chuckled heartily as I embraced him in a bear hug. I exhaled a breath I didn't know I was holding at the fact that he wanted us to continue. This was him finally accepting me and I felt so many levels of happiness that I felt like I'd float away.

"Okay everyone, you heard the Bae. There's nothing to see here. Go home, watch some Netflix or porn and go sleep," I said facing every one who had gathered there, eating up the drama like the fiends they were. Patrick punched me hard on the arm, and begun strutting away towards my car. "That's considered domestic abuse by the way, since you're technically my boyfriend now," I said as I ran to catch up to him, far too happy to admit it.

He sneered at my grinning face, with his blushing one. "Don't ever call me Bae. That means 's**t' in Danish. Just say the whole word better."

Pulling him into a kiss right in the middle of the parking lot, I said, "You got it babe."

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Hey my little ghouls and ghoulies!!!

Personally, I believe Patrick reflects my personality since I'm very much introverted and straight-forward. Except that I can't draw for s**t. I feel kind of bad for Michael, but I'm going to give him his own one shot because he deserves it.

In the Photo ^^ Patrick on the left and Derek on the Right.

See ya on the next chapter which might take longer than usual since I'm starting day shift back again.