COMPLICATED
It was one of the few days he had off, and somehow he had gotten roped into helping with his class� Homecoming float. His older sister was his ride, and decided to be a complete bitch about it, leaving 15 minutes too early. He sighed, rolling his eyes as he patiently tried to explain to his sister how getting there before everyone else would make him look stupid. And he knew it would too. It�s not like the people who would show up were his best friends. He got along with them just fine, he supposed, but it�s not like they would hold back his long hair while he threw up after a shot too many of vodka.
After a pointless ride around the block, he gave up and just climbed out of the car, swearing up and down vividly as he realized he was alone. Moments later, two of his classmates arrived, but they hardly seemed to notice him as he tapped out a message on his cell phone. Hitting �send,� he followed absently into the barn, mind wandering as his breath formed small clouds in the cold air. Time dragged by, and slowly more of his classmates began to show up. An idea was decided upon, a plan discussed, and while three people were sent off to the city to buy paint and burgers, he was sent with a girl he knew fairly well to buy some munchies for those who stayed behind. Nearly $14 was spent on said food, and he winced as he remembered what that money was supposed to go towards, �Christmas. Damn it, why did you have to volunteer your cash? Why not borrow someone else�s?� He sighed inwardly as he climbed back into the Volvo, arms laden with plastic bags crammed with food.
The girl dropped him back off at the barn, leaving for her own house and another friend as he unceremoniously dumped the food onto the cart that was supposed to become a Homecoming float of grand proportions in a matter of weeks. The three that had stayed behind pounced, ripping opening bags and tearing lids off of containers, acting almost like wild animals. He shook his head, cracked open his Dr. Pepper and sipped it slowly, listening with half an ear to their conversation, laughing occasionally, and pretending he actually fit in. �Why do I even bother? It�s not like I want to be a part of their world��
Thirty minutes before the night�s big football game, the ones in charge of paint and burgers finally returned, bringing too much food but enough paint to satisfy the self-appointed leaders. Idle chatter ensued, broken by the announcement that the game was starting soon and everyone had to get ready. The rain that had been pouring from the steel grey clouds since daybreak had yet to give up on drowning the island kids as they climbed into their respectable cars. He called his father, asking if he could go to the game, though he didn�t even know why he asked � he had no interest in the sport whatsoever.
Reassuring his father that he had eaten, and didn�t need to come home for dinner, he climbed into a white Jetta, watching the rain continue to batter against everything in sight. Light conversation filled the void as the driver, a boy his own age, pulled onto the highway. The light ahead turned yellow, and in a heartbeat, they were hydroplaning to a stop beside an ambulance. One look at the driver confirmed the hilarity of the incident, and the two boys laughed, though their hearts were racing. Soon, they were at the high school, climbing out of the car into the endless rainfall, walking nonchalantly towards the elementary school that held their football field captive.
His arrival was greeted by some of his younger friends, and he immediately clung to them, leaving his �driver� to return to the popular students like a faithful puppy. The teen didn�t really understand, but he shrugged, toying with the end of his braid, his voice mingling with those of his friends with ease. A glance at the scoreboard informed him that they were losing: 22-0. �Surprise, surprise,� he thought as he walked arm-in-arm with his friends. They wandered across the grounds, stopping every now and then to talk, and eventually found the quad seeking shelter under an awning, the four of them curled up on a frigid picnic table. Laughter filled the moist air, making him feel wanted and loved as his friends pulled him close, wrapping their arms around him and smiling almost proudly.
Eventually, he made his way back to the metal stands, his eyes trained on the ambulance that was unloading a stretcher. Those dark eyes flickered with a hint of amusement, and then returned to a state of cold indifference. His name caught his attention, the owner of that soft tenor voice obviously happy to see him. He turned, his soaked plait heavy against his back as he caught sight of his friend. In a cajoling voice, he convinced the other boy to take a walk with him, to forget about Jazz Band and to have some fun. The shorter teen agreed eagerly, his eyes dancing as the pair ran out of the stands while the band director�s back was turned.
Giggling helplessly, they continued to run, arm-in-arm until reaching the gate that divided the field from the playground belonging to the younger children. Leading his companion to the sheltered picnic table, they sat, talking quietly about this and that. Another friend of theirs� was mentioned in passing, but quickly forgotten as the braided boy leaned in, kissing his friend tenderly. Cupping that freckle-dusted face in his slightly trembling hands, he deepened the kiss, his dark eyes fluttering closed. The sound of voices reached his ears, and he jerked up, flushed cheeks going unnoticed as a few of his friends rounded the corner. He put on a fa�ade of composure though his heart was beating erratically and his skin tingled. Like lovers caught mid-tryst, they fled hand-in-hand, ducking into the cover of the few trees that decorated the grounds. Desperate lips clashed, equally desperate hands gripping damp skin eagerly.
Warmth coursed through his veins as he held his friend close, ignoring the water that pelted them and the echoes of the game that wasn�t as far away as he would have liked. They parted reluctantly, his friend cursing as he realized the time. Holding hands, they dashed back to the field, a promise to walk his companion to the bus stop to catch his ride escaping his lips in an instance. He didn�t want to leave his side; he didn�t want to let those fragile hands go. But he knew he didn�t have a choice, the parents of his secret love disliked him greatly for the things he had supposedly taught their son. �If only they knew�� he smirked to himself as they walked slowly through the rain to the road.
Goodbyes were exchanged quickly as a blue Geo pulled up to the curb, taking his friend with it as he turned back towards the high school. Hands shoved deep in his pockets, jacket buttoned up fully against the biting wind, he sighed, casting a glance at the dark clouds overhead. He paused for a moment, waving as the Geo went by again as he reached back, untying his hair, releasing the damp waves to the wind�s enjoyment. Pulling out his cell, he called home, asking his older sister to come get him, cursing silently for his lack of personal transportation. Those dark eyes searched the dim sidewalk, hoping to see one person in particular, though luck didn�t seem to be on his side as he completed his journey without encountering a single soul. Leaning against a telephone pole, he waited for his ride, the wind teasing the crimped locks that hung in his face. His head down, face half-turned from the road, eyes haunted, he wondered how the people who passed by in heated cars perceived him. Scanning the street, he sighed to the heavens as the rain began again. Jeans soaked halfway up his calves clung to his legs, rivulets of icy cold water trailing down pale cheeks to collect in the hollow of his throat.
A torrent of thoughts ran through his already cluttered mind as his sister�s CRV stopped beside him. Climbing in, he rode in silence, trying to decipher everything that was happening in his life. It all seemed so complicated� His energetic terrier was there to greet him as he stepped through the front door. Happy licks were planted on his face when he knelt down, slipping out of his coat. Tossing his wallet and cell onto a nearby shelf, he wandered to his bathroom, ready to get out of the cold-tainted clothing that had molded itself to his frail frame. His hands ghosted over his skin once covered in denim, and he was shocked to find his thighs to be frigid. Even through all the layers his body had been adorned with, his skin was freezing, discolored by the cold. Indifferent eyes lifted to meet their reflection, and an emotionless face stared back.
'When did life become so complicated?� he wondered as he stared himself down. A shrug and a sigh followed before he began to search for some warm clothes. It didn�t really matter at this point, did it? Nah, not to him; he was the portrait of simplicity, the reincarnation of innocence, after all. But those depthless eyes were wise beyond his young years, and held more pain and resentment than the world could ever know.
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