Suicidal Love

Monday

    The first day of the school week.... Ugh. I usually have little motivation Monday mornings, but the idea of that cute guy I saw at school on Friday gave me a jolt of excitement when I woke up. I excessively combed through my hair, then used my still unopened bottle of hair gel to make it stand up in lots of little spikes. Once I was finally satisfied with my appearance, I closed the lid to the hair gel bottle and placed it back into the cupboard. I applied my deodorant and shaved cautiously as to not leave any embarrassing mess-up wounds behind. As always, I finished without any mistakes and moved on to wardrobe.

    I had woken up earlier than the rest of my family so that I'd have extra time to get ready. I wanted to impress that guy, hopefully he'd notice my drastic change in appearance. Izzy woke up just as I was examining and dismissing nearly every item of clothing I had. Dammit! Why do I have to be so fucking emo?!, I thought to myself, frustrated with all of my solid black garments. Izzy and I shared a room and she was now rubbing her eyes sleepily, "Alec, what are you doing?" I was about to tell her that it was nothing and to start getting ready for school, but she was the most stylish person I knew and I was in desperate need of assistance. "Trying to find something to wear," I replied gruffly, Dang! Do I really sound that grumpy?!, I wondered, considering recording my voice so I could make sure that it wasn't just my imagination.

    Confused, Izzy sat up on the side of her bed, "Just wear what you always wear," Practically yelling I replied, "I can't!" Shocked, her voice became soft and comforting, "Is everything okay, Alec... Did those bullies tease you about your favorite sweatshirt again because of that one damn hole, 'cause I swear!-" I cut her off, "No, it's not that," I looked down, wondering what to do next. No one knew my sexuality, not even Izzy, my favorite person in the world. Grinning, she asked, "Did you happen to pick up a girlfriend sometime last week?" Shaking my head furiously, I denied her suspicion, "No, ew! I don't like girls like that!" I couldn't believe I'd actually said that and I held my hands to my mouth. I didn't dare glance at Izzy, who I could barely make out in my peripheral vision, her mouth gaping open and her eyes wide.

    Well, I guess she knows now, so I guess I might as well tell her. I sighed and looked up at her, half expecting a disgusted expression smeared over her face, but instead, she just looked worried. "Izzy... I'm gay," Wow, great job, Alec. Way to be subtle. A wide grin brightened her face and, confused, I asked her why she was smiling, "Izzy, I just came out to you, our parents are die-hard Catholics who would disown me at first glance if they were to find out, and I'm having a major wardrobe crisis right now. Why are you grinning like a maniac?!" This question only made her smile grow wider, driving me insane. "Because, Alec. I already knew. How couldn't I? I'm just really proud of you and flattered that you trusted me enough with your secret," Now more confused than ever, I asked, "Why'd you ask about a girlfriend, then?"

    She smiled with pride and answered me, "I wanted to see if you were willing to tell me the truth and I needed to know for sure that my suspicions were correct," I rolled my eyes and she laughed. Eager to get to the problem that direly needed out attention, I changed the subject, "Now, about my wardrobe crisis..." "Of course," she said with a nod, "Remember that sweater I got you for your birthday?"

    By the time I was properly dressed and ready to go, we were almost late for the bus. My mother, pleasantly surprised by my attire, a stark contrast to my usual several shades of grey, complimented me with the title of "dashing young man". This assured me even further of Izzy's talent in fashion. On the way to school, I daydreamed of the cute guy I so hoped to meet, his perfectly styled hair, forming an impressive wave-like structure and glittering with actual glitter. I figured he couldn't be straight... all of the straight guys I ever met had a case of toxic masculinity so severe that they broke out into hives every time they got anywhere near a bottle of hair gel or a vial of glitter. This gave me hope that I had a chance with him, my first true crush.

∘〇♢〇∘

    Once I was finally at school, I scanned nearby faces, hoping to see him. No luck, but just as I was starting to consider the possibilities of him being sick and absent from school, I heard a body slam against some nearby lockers. I turned the corner to find just the extravagant, hopefully not-straight, cute-guy I was looking for. Unfortunately, he was the one being slammed against the nearby lockers by a jock, who I recognized as the captain of the football team. (Yikes!) He had his fist clenched, my crush's collar within its grasp. Mr. First-Crush was gasping for air, his feet hovering above the ground.

"Faggot! You're nothing but a freak! Enjoy Hell!", the jock yelled in his face, spit dotting his perfect complexion. I don't know what I was thinking, all I knew was that adrenaline had taken control, and it was my turn to sit back and watch. I couldn't stand to see him being treated this way. My heart was thumping and my hands clenched into tight fists, knuckles turning white. "Let. Him. Go.", I said under my breath, glaring the jock down. For a second, I thought that he might not have heard me, but my theory was immediately disproved as he slowly turned his head toward me. "What?" he asked threateningly. I steadied my voice to keep it from shaking and it left my lips sounding confident and loud, "Let. Him. Go!" I glared my most hate-filled glare  and ground my jaw. "And if I don't... What're you gonna do about it?" he questioned, testing me.

I swung as hard as I could, exerting all my strength into the single, unexpected punch. I hit him smack in the nose. A cracking sound could be heard and his nose immediately started to bleed. The tough, intimidating jock I'd just seen earlier transformed into a screaming toddler. He instantly released the insanely hot mass of glitter and ran towards the nurse's office, wailing exaggeratedly. I knelt down to aide my crush, helping him into a standing position.

We made eye contact and time seemed to freeze. His bright gold eyes like shiny coins shone up at me, tears forming a glossy film over their surface. I felt like kissing him right then and there, already standing so close to him, and already falling so deep into what I felt must be love.  I almost couldn't speak, "Um... uh, are-are you okay?", I managed to croak, butterflies filling my insides. He seemed to also be in a trance as he stammered back, "Um, y-yeah, I think," I glanced at a nearby clock; it was almost time for class. "I'd like to at least know your name before class starts," I said, as stammer-free as I could manage. He nodded, and didn't seem as recovered from the moment of intimacy as I was, or maybe he was only still shaken up from being thrown into the thin metal boxes with chipping blue paint we call lockers, "Y-yeah. Of course," He smiled weakly, "My name is Magnus," I smiled back, "Alec,". He was about to walk away when I grabbed his wrist, stopping him from moving any further from me. He looked back, surprise evident in his expression. I pulled a sharpie out from the side pocket on my backpack with my other hand and wrote my number on the back of his, then handed it to him, "Can I have your number?" I requested, stretching my hand out toward him. I sounded so calm and collected, but my breathing was difficult to control. He nodded quietly and got to work, scrawling his phone number on my forearm in the neatest handwriting I'd ever seen.

With a forced smile faded as he looked into my eyes and stared for a moment. I couldn't help but admire his too. "You're eyes...They're so.... Blue," I chuckled, "Is that a compliment?". A genuine smile formed on his lips as he replied, "Absolutely," before turning away and rushing up a nearby staircase. His stuff still laid, scattered, on the floor where the incident had taken place. Not wanting it to get stolen, I gathered it up and climbed the staircase as well. I could just barely make out his glittery hair as it bobbed up and down in the frenzy of students surrounding us. I followed him all the way to a locker that he stopped at and began to unlock. I weaseled through the crowd and got his attention with a tap on the shoulder. His head whipped around, startled. "You left your stuff". He smiled, "Thank you, Alexander," I was about to correct him when he took his things and escaped into the swarm of teenagers flooding the hall.

    I suddenly remembered my next class and hurried to its classroom. I didn't see Magnus again during the rest of that boring school day, but I definitely texted him afterwards:

A: Hi.

M: Hello, Alexander

A: My name's Alec.

M: I know, but I prefer Alexander if you don't mind.

A: That's okay.

M: :)

A: :)

    I know, it wasn't much, but it was a start and I was very excited for the days to come.