The Closet-a Ralbert Story

Chapter 1

Albert DaSilva walked through the halls with his hood up, hands stuffed in his pockets and his eyes watching the floor. There was no point in looking at the kids he's known since second grade, and the dirty floors were far more interesting than their stories could ever be.

He carefully skipped over the lines as he walked, his stride quick but not confident. He found himself doing this more often rather than counting the amount of steps he took. At least he got to class faster.

Stopping before he missed his locker, he turned on his foot and stood in front of the blue chests filled with things belonging to the people around him. He opened his locker and looked around, seeing everyone with their friends.

Albert didn't have many friends. He wasn't sure when he stopped having them, but they all left when he was ready to grow up, or whatever. That's when he was placed in a new foster home and moved schools. But then he moved back to Manhattan, this time with new parents and a new attitude.

Albert sighed as he shook his head and grabbed his books, rolling his eyes as his hood was pulled off of his head.

"Hood off, Mr. DaSilva", his English teacher, Mrs. Harris, droned as she walked away. Albert watched her as he shut his locker, having what he needed.

The halls of The World High School were notorious for being friendly, everyone knew each other and was close, like a small town. I guess in this scenario, I'd be the big city loser that's too different.

Back to the tiles. They weren't interesting, but they were large enough for Albert to skip the lines comfortably. He looked around before placing his hood back on his head, trying not to catch the attention of a teacher.

Down the hall came the football team, who were louder than ever. Albert shoves away from them, finding his place near the lockers.

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Antonio "Racetrack" Higgins wasn't a jock, it's not that kind of story. But he was friends with them.

Yes, he did play baseball in the spring and run track in the winter, but he wasn't obsessed with the sports. His friends, however, loved them, and often played three or four sports a year.

I can't understand that, he thought, laughing along with his friends. How can someone play football, basketball, run track, then play baseball back to back? Bet their college application would be awesome, though.

"Shit, I forgot to turn in my application", Race cursed, smacking himself in the head. He looked up at his friend, Jack, who placed an arm around his shoulders.

"What are you worried about? The last day is three weeks from now", Jack glanced at their other friends, who were lost in their own conversations.

Race had known Jack since before he could figure out the answer to 4x5. Jack was a year older, and would be going to college soon, but they had a bond that no jock could replace with a touchdown.

"I just gotta turn my stuff in before You-Know-Who finds it", Race whispers, shrugging it off. Jack pretends to think.

"Voldemort?"

"My dad, idiot! You know he wants me to work for him."

"So he can control you for the rest of your life", Jack finishes, taking his arm away from the shorter's shoulders. "I've heard the speech before, kid."

Race sighs and places his hands in the pockets of his team jacket. "I just got big dreams, man."

Jack smiled. "Plus, my hair is too amazing for me to work as a mechanic."

"And there he is."

The two of them laugh as they get roped back into the conversation of football versus baseball, Race rooting for the latter. Of course baseball was better than football. It was easier to understand, less aggressive, and safer. I think.

As the group of boys walked through the halls, Race's eye were caught by a beautiful ginger boy, who he felt he must meet right away.