It's a Secret

Collin's POV

(Prologuing it.)

I've watched him for 2 years. It was never a waste of time. He was beautiful.

Popular, kind of a dick, probably homophobic, but beautiful. He had brown hair like mine, abs like mine too. He had bigger biceps than me though, and dark eyes. He was the handsomest guy I had ever laid eyes on.

But he had a girlfriend. I'm guessing he had a different one every week, considering the amount of hook-ups he had. It made me mad, jealous... But I tried not to take it too personally. He was straight, and I was gay.

I wasn't exactly openly gay, though. All my friends knew I was, but not the whole twelfth grade.

I hung out with the druggies. A few of them were lesbian, then there were straight boys and girls, and me, the only gay, masculine guy. Most of the time we would get high together; it's a good way to have fun when life isn't.

That's the reason I know Vince. Well, I knew of him before--practically everyone knows of him. I had admired him from a far for so long. But one day, he showed up at one of our parties. He walked towards me, told me he was angry, and grabbed a cigarette out of my hand. I remember my heart was beating fast, and I didn't know where to look.

He told me about his life. He was a mixture of drunk and high, and rambled on about 'stupid girls' and the pressure of sports. He told me and my friend Nick that his dad sometimes would beat him up, and that that's the reason he was always out of the house. That part of him made me like him so much more.

We went on, smoking weed and confessing things, most of which I don't remember. Vince said he liked hanging with us, and that we were cool. Most people at school did think we were cool, chill. We were outsiders, and we liked it that way. We also could hook anyone up with the drug of their choice.

Sometimes, I lay in bed and think about what Vince would do or say if I told him I was gay. He would probably beat me up, since that's how he was raised. Part of me likes to think that he's different, but Vince still cares about his image and what people think of him. I don't think he could ever realize the impact he's had on my life.

(Now.)

"Fuck you," I said laughing, punching John in the stomach as he rolled over. There was about 20 people in the basement. Most of which were drunk.

"Alright, alright. What are we gonna play? Spin the bottle?" Layla asked, moving towards me and sitting down next to me on her knees.

Nick shook his head. "Naw, we did that last time--"

"How about seven minutes in heaven?" Amanda asked, handing me a beer bottle and a cigarette lighter. I laughed at her idea.

"Yes! Guys come get in a circle," Layla said, pulling on Mark's arm and bringing him to the floor. People were still coming through the door, drinking, laughing, and blasting music. A typical party.

Mark took the bottle from my hand and put it in the center of the circle. He spun it, and laughter again filled my ears. I watched as it landed on Olivia, and Mark smirked. He got up, grabbed her by the hand, and brought her into the closet. We all laughed hysterically.

"Time starts now!" Amanda said, setting her iPhone to a seven minute countdown and taking a swig of beer.

"Wonder what's going on in there," Alec said. Layla laughed and playfully punched him.

"You would," she said. Suddenly, I heard a voice come from behind me.

"Glad you could make it, stoner." It was Ethan's voice, and my head jerked around to see who he was talking to.