My Middle School Crush (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 1

Dedicated to @1fangirlLifestyle

(Note: All speech in this chapter will be put in this font, showing you that it was said in the past, but it will go back to the regular font when we get back to the present.)

Chapter 1: Now Let Me Explain

Mason's POV

His name is Mark Tyler.

He has dark brown that's shaved at the sides and effortless in its messy curls at the top of his head. His tanned skin, from both his lifestyle and parents, naturally glows. And his green eyes startle you when you come too close.

He wears jeans and t-shirts like expensive brands, never spending too long on his appearance. He's kind and generous, easy to give to those he saw on the street and dedicated to finding the perfect present for his sister Jasmine every year.

He is confident, outgoing, and easily pulls people into conversations by barely trying.

He is absolutely perfect.

He is Mark Tyler.

He was my middle school crush.

—————

When I first met Mark Tyler it wasn't necessarily a meeting per se, but a single glance,

A single moment that changed everything.

I was in the playground at school like every other kid that day, playing tag with my group of friends.

"I'm gonna catch ya'!" I had yelled tauntingly to the other kids I was chasing after.

"No, you aren't!" One of the girls, Genevieve, had screamed back. "We're too fast!"

My eyes had lit up at the challenge, thoughts of how I would be proving them wrong with my amazing speed running through my mind.

"Oh yeah?" I teased again, suddenly surging forward to chase after the kids who giggled and laughed once I was almost in arm's length.

My hand was reaching out to try and touch a particular boy in the shoulder when I was suddenly bumping into someone.

In a matter of moments, I was taken from sprinting at top speed after another eight-year-old boy to falling flat on my ass. Flat on the concrete.

And it hurt like hell.

"Ow." I mumbled, my lower lip wobbling slightly.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to bump into you!" The young eight-year-old boy had said, but my eyes were already starting to tear up.

I was about to cry on the concrete ground when I noticed someone.

He was across the playground, too far for me to properly make out his face but close enough for me to see him,

Close enough for me to notice.

He wasn't doing anything amazing. He and his friends, which consisted primarily of girls, were just playing a simple game of ninja, taking turns "slicing" off each other's body parts. But something made me continue to stare.

I didn't pay much attention to my friends and the other boy picking me up, nor did I really care when they asked me if I was alright, instead nodding absentmindedly to their questions.

The only thing I had cared about at that moment was the boy,

And his cheesy little fauxhawk.

So I continued to stare.