I'm writing this from the gym woah pls love me

-Dan-

One minute, I was celebrating our recent win against whatever team we had just played.

The next, I was making out with Tyde behind the bleachers.

Tyde was a trombone player in our band - not lead trombone, but somewhere near the top. He was about six feet tall, dark-skinned, and flamingly homosexual. I had never been attracted to Tyde in that way before, but being buzzed on cheap liquor sometimes does things to you.

We broke apart for a moment or two to share some comments.

"Aren't you dating that one...uh...Brandon guy?" I slurred sleepily.

"No, man, but I wish. Hot damn."

"Got that right. I would."

We then continued snogging.

A few passing people sniggered at the sight of us wrapped up in each other on school property like this, and a few gasped, but we didn't listen. They could think whatever they wanted, but we were having a great time, so it didn't matter.

The one thing that did matter, the thing that got through the thick layers of thrill and alcohol in my mind, happened all in a flash. I squinted my eyes open ever so slightly at a loud cough to see a head of coal black hair and wide, icy blue eyes staring at us, shocked. I pulled away from Tyde for a moment and locked eyes with him, but the liquor took over me again and I smirked at him evilly. His jaw dropped and he ran from us, covering his eyes and coughing once more.

Before I turned back to Tyde, I thought I recognized something in the boy's eyes.

Hurt?

-Emma-

The day after the game, I woke up in my dorm room with a slight, nagging hangover, consisting mostly of a dull, throbbing headache and a slight twinge of nausea. Worse than that, I looked pretty disgusting - dark circles, tangled hair, and pale, sickly skin.

Regardless, I had study hall that day, so I would have to suck it up.

A touch of makeup here and there and a hot shower seemed to fix most of my physical issues. However, I still felt ill and could not remember a lot of the night before.

Grabbing my books, I headed for the library.

***

Once I arrived, a familiar red mop of hair greeted me at the door.

"Emma! Glad you're here, I was stuck on this one bit of our project and I needed your help, but I don't have your number." He seemed excited, and this caused me to blush.

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'll see if I can help," I smiled.

Lucas took my hand and led me to his table, and I had to hold in a squeal. He was so sweet.


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