Falling Hard

Derek

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This story WILL be about gay males. If you have a problem with that, please do not read further.

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Brandon shut his locker door and leaned against it, watching me mumble to myself. His brown hair was trimmed neatly, something he prided himself on, as if he'd cut it himself. He had brown eyes and a tan complexion. He was handsome and the girls loved him.

He knocked on my locker door, a smile on his face. "Earth to Angelo. Is there anyone in there?"

I glared at my best friend before grabbing my math book. "Why aren't we allowed to slam our locker doors? Are they afraid the metal will bend and break or something?"

"Why are you asking me that?"

I huffed and ran a hand through my dark hair. Unlike Brandon, I wasn't that great looking. I struggled with acne and I had glasses and my hair never stayed the way I wanted it to. It was almost black and made me look emo or grunge or whatever and I wasn't. My eyes were blue and childish and I'd only just gotten my braces taken off the summer before our junior year. I looked like a freshman and if it weren't for Brandon, I'd get beat up.

"I had a rough morning." I responded, hoping he wouldn't make me talk about it.

"Can you elaborate?"

I groaned and pressed my forehead to the cold metal. "Do I have to?"

"So you don't get in trouble for slamming your locker door? Yes."

"My dad found out I didn't try out for football or soccer over the summer so he's making me try out for basketball."

Brandon laughed beside me. "Doesn't he realized you haven't made it thus far? What are the chances you will this year?"

"Way to be supportive." I headed toward my first period. I hated math and Mr. Bowling and the stupid equations he made us do each morning.

He easily caught up to me and threw his arm over my shoulders. At six foot four, he towered over me. "All I'm saying is that the chances are very unlikely. Just try out and tell him it didn't work out."

"I hate basketball more than I hate football."

"Now I find that hard to believe."

"I'm five eight, Brandon. I'm like a toddler compared to you guys. I look like an idiot even trying out."

He shrugged. "Just suffer through the week long try outs, tell your dad you didn't make it, and move on."

I followed as he shoved through the crowd of people. New kids still didn't know where they were going or were too busy talking to one another. Only the older kids knew where to go, how to get there, and to get there early so they could find a good seat in the back of the class.

Brandon reached behind him without turning his head and grabbed my hand. He pulled me closer, so I wouldn't get trapped in the sea of bodies, and continued walking. We made our way up the stairs and down a less crowded hallway to where the classroom was. There were two girls, quiet girls I barely knew, sitting in the front when we walked inside. They didn't glance at us. Neither did the Mr. Bowling.

Brandon and I found our seats in the back and he twirled a pen between his fingers. Mr. Bowling had a strict no pen policy yet Brandon still used one anyway. Mr. Bowling would give a five point deduction for anyone who did use pen yet Brandon did so well on his assignments and tests that he didn't get the five point deduction or a lecture.

The door opened and a boy I didn't recognize walked in. He walked to the teacher's desk and said something to Mr. Bowling.

The boy had large frame glasses that looked like they belonged on an old man rather than a teen. He had curly black hair and freckles along the bridge of his nose and his cheeks. He had a jean jacket on and Nike sweatpants on.

Mr. Bowling handed the boy a book then pointed at the rows of desk.

The boy walked throw the desks and sat on the opposite side of the room as Brandon and I. He pulled a phone from his pocket and set all his attention on the screen.

Brandon elbowed me. "Cute, huh?"

I glared at him. "Don't you dare."

"Come on. You haven't had a date in... well, ever. You owe it to yourself."

"No, you owe it to me to not embarrass me."

"What are best friends for?" He grinned.

I groaned and put my head down on the desk as Brandon got to his feet and walked over to the boy. The two spoke for a minute before Brandon pointed at me with his thumb. The boy laughed before standing up and following Brandon over to our desks.

"Hey. I'm Derek."

"Angelo."

He smiled. "Nice to meet you."