Hurricane Jones [boyxboy]

hurricane jones [6]

[DKLA by Troye Sivan ft Tkay Maidza]

word count: 1274
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Dalton's roots were growing out.

Both figuratively and literally, his bleach blonde hair getting dark at the roots as he seemed reluctant to dye it again. Key word: seemed. I hadn't put much effort into associating myself with Dalton, the fact that my Chem teacher didn't care for partner work being a good thing.

I hadn't had any desire to talk to a boy who was so wishy-washy: feeling me up and calling me pretty one day and then acting as if it were the alcohol. Yeah, I had a physical attraction to Dalton and I'd tried to give his personality the benefit of the doubt but that was hard when it came to the glares he'd sent my way every time my pencil squeaked.

Maybe he was just pissy or maybe if had to do with the fact that his roots were getting harder to hide and the entire student body had learned about the passing of his mother within a month of him being there.

He wasn't the most secretive person, emotions held on his sleeve so I understood how they had known but for some reason, I felt as if he thought I was to blame.

Shaking my head after another one of his burning glares, I attempted to break off a piece of lead from my pencil before writing again. The squeak hadn't been too forgiving and I felt eyes on me yet again.

Five minutes had passed of me copying notes from our smartboard before Dalton's hand had shot out, gripping my wrist gently. He didn't seem to care about the way I instantly recoiled, hating physical contact.

"Could you stop that?" His voice came out harsh, lips set in a grimace and eyes staring straight into mine with an intensity that I couldn't help but shrink back from. With my actions slow, as if he were a dog about to attack at the quickest of movement, I reached down beside my stool to grip my bookbag and pulled it up to grab a new pencil and toss the other one in, carelessly.

Dalton nodded once I'd started writing and it hadn't squeaked as we resumed taking notes and I tried not to think about his eyes and the way my heart pounded.

-

Wyatt had opted to sit with me at lunch, Quinn no longer showing up around this time since Dalton had showed. My siblings either didn't have the same lunch as me or decided to sit with people less rep-ruining and Wyatt had let me know that this was his free period.

We'd sat in silence on the tennis court as I swallowed down a cup a' noodle and he sat across from me, just staring. At first glance, you'd think he was staring at me but if you looked closer, you'd see he was focusing more on the sky behind me and I found that comforting.

He'd smiled at me before opening his bookbag before pulling out a hard black case and inside it held a camera that wasn't as big as the one he'd used before. Still, I knew it costed him a fortune.

Smiling softly, he looked at the sky once more before shifting and pulling the camera to his face. Wyatt's hair was down in its careless waves that day and he'd been chewing on his bottom lip as if in thought as he snapped the picture before refocusing his camera lens and snapping a few more. Pulling the camera away, he'd surveyed them before smiling at one and nodding before packing his camera back up.

"You only took a few..."

"If something's beautiful as is, don't mess with it," he breathed out, smiling goofily at me before leaning over to take a noodle off the fork I'd been twirling absentmindedly. Turning to sit beside me, he shrugged before laying back, "I took a few nice ones and I don't intend to screw them up by looking at the too long. I'll end up scrutinizing them."

"I see."

"It's all about the feeling, Gabe. If it feels good, don't keep searching. Why would you if you've found what you're looking for?" And it felt as if his words had a double meaning as I sat there, attempting to dissect it. I enjoyed having Wyatt around, I did, but sometimes he was a bit too vague when talking about art or music or photography - as if it had no clear answer- and I both loves and hated that aspect of him so, deciding not to dwell too much on our newfound friendship, I pulled out my phone.

Plugging in one earphone, I'd given him the other and we'd each took a turn picking out which song to play until the bell had rang to dismiss us to our next class.

Wyatt had decided to walk me to mine, walking right beside me as we'd made it to a class that I'd shared with Quinn and he'd snapped another picture of me as I was blushing, looking down at my shoes; I'd been uttering a small 'thank you,' and for some reason, he'd been inspired.

"I'm sure I look horrible."

He smiled that soft and gentle smile, looking up from scanning his picture and shook his head, "you're quite photogenic, Gabe."

-

"So sine, cosine, and tangent are all very different although they do focus on the same principles which are opposite -relating to the theta- hypotenuse, the side directly leading from the right angle, and adjacent, the remaining side..." the teacher had trailed off as we took notes faster than humanly possible and I'd been halfway done when a phone had vibrated behind me.

It was Quinn's.

And as Ms. Holtzner started to pass out homework, we'd had a brief moment to start, the bell catching Quinn after she had tapped my shoulder.

"What?" I hadn't looked up from my work, intending to finish the first problem before packing up and I'd seen everyone leaving around me although she had stayed. Her eyes were on mine when I'd finally looked up from my binder, closing it and placing it in my navy-blue book bag and standing before swinging it over my back.

"I need your help." She'd instructed, lips in a tight line opposed to her normal bright grin and I furrowed my brows.

"With?"

She bit the inside of her mouth, turning on her heel and motioning me to follow her as we felt the teacher's eyes on us.

Once we were out in the hallway, I gestured for her to speak, my next period being the one I'd shared with Dalton and my teacher honestly didn't care if we showed up five minutes late. Following Quinn down the hallway and past my lit class, students rushing to get into class on time with only three minutes left. I was hot on her heels as I followed, straining to hear her unusually hushed words.

"Dalton came to school high as a kite and I can't go in the boy's bathroom without seeming a bit pervy." She laughed forcefully as we rounded the corner to the East Wing, a space where all the arts were located and went to the first bathroom on the right. Standing outside awkwardly, Quinn recited the task, "I need you to go in a bring him out so I can't get him home before he's suspended."

Yeah, his roots were surely affecting him and I was getting somehow involved.

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