My Best Friend Is GAY?!? (boyxboy)

Part 4:

Part 4: 

Sixth period on a Thursday and we are all wild animals.

No body cares because the teacher is like, 20 minutes late to class and we're all being loud, but not loud enough for another teacher to check on us and find out we're alone in the classroom.

Paper air plains are being thrown and spitballs-what are we 3rd grade boys?-are being added to the ceiling.

I'm sitting on Cabe's desk and bugging him because that's what I'd be doing if I didn't suspect he was gay.

I've never really felt anything about gay people. They're just people. They breath, they eat, they poop, and they, “fall in love”. I decided Cabe is still Cabe and I won't treat him any differently, but I wanted him to tell me.

If he doesn't soon I'll end up outing him because I'm Tag Ellis and I'm too damn impatient.

I start swinging my feet as they hang off the right side of his desk. I'm not facing him, I'm facing my desk, in the row next to his.

“Tag. Get off my desk.” Cabe says.

“Nope.” I say and pop my gum because I can. I'm Tag Ellis and my might-be-gay best friend, Cabe Johnston, would let me get away with murder because he still feels bad about losing his cool in the first grade and kicking that soccer ball in my face. Leaving my perfect-HA!-face with a permanent small scar under my lip.

Don't ask me how a soccer ball did that, I don't even know.

“I'm so bored!”

“Only boring people are bored Ellis,” he laughs calling me by my last name. He's trying to read a book but I keep interrupting him. Part of him probably wants to kill me.

I feel bad, but then I forget about that and interrupt him again, then feel bad, then I forget about that and interrupt him again.

It's a viscous circle, really.

“Hey, Tag,” Trisha, a cheerslut, says as she sashays by in a very, very, small skirt and a low cut shirt. I unconsciously bite my bottom lip as I watch her walk down the isle.

I inched back so I was leaning on my hands and started kicking my legs again. “Don't you just hate that?” I sighed to no one in particular.

“Hate what?” Cabe asked.

“When they just put everything on display like that, but are just... teasing you. Even the ones that don't know it!” It was awful what girls at this school could do. They had the power to leave a guy breathless, then walk away. It's actually quite scary.

“Yeah, I do.” He laughed turning back into his book.

And then I thought of the guy at the party. Mr. Redhead, had he put out for Cabe...? Or was it a switch and ditch? He did look kinda pissed after coming down stairs, now that I think about it soberly. But the look Cabe was giving Mr. Redhead scares me. Mr. Redhead wasn't looking at him in the same way. Cabe's probably going to get hurt. Does he realize? I want to talk with him about it.

Love is a fickle emotion that disappears easily and leaves people drained and empty wishing for the better days back. It's like a drug. It gets you high, but the low comes and you crash and then you crave more. I didn't want that to happen to Cabe.

I couldn't let that happen to him.

The door of the classroom opens and in steps the teacher about a half and hour late to her own class. She looks around the class then lands her eyes on me.

Without a word I get off the table. The rest of the class takes a hint and shuts up getting back to their respective seats.

“Come in,” she motions someone in the room.

In walks a boy. About an inch or two taller than me, he's wearing a skin tight hot pink shirt, tight black pants, colorful bracelets, neon orange Converse, a neon green backpack hangs from one shoulder and his brown hair had streaks of purple in it. He screams GAY.

No. I'm not even joking, he screams “GAY” at the class.

We all go silent, slightly stunned, except I can feel laughter bubble in my throat. I try to frown but my face keeps curling into a smile and a snort escapes my me.

Cabe shoot me a 'do you want death by detention?!' look and it only makes me break into hysterical laughter.

By myself.

But I laugh way too easily, they're all use to it by now and ignore me.

I cough and the teacher shoots me a look. Sinking back into my seat my eyes float to Cabe who is eyeing the new guy, who is eyeing him back.

The teacher is babbling and everyone is paying attention to her. I vaguely hear her call the kid Reggie.

New kid winks, Cabe stifles a blush but a bit gets through. The new kid doesn't see it and is ordered to sit in the back row off the other side of the classroom.

I am 85 percent sure my best friend is gay.