*currently editing*
Two boys. Two different schools. One game. One goal.
Life was easy when you were considered high school royalty but when you get rivalry on the field, things get a little interesting.
Connor Taylor went to Northshore. Dakota Ande...
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"god only knows where this could go, and even if our love starts to grow out of control, and you and me go up in flames, Heaven won't be the same"
heaven • niall horan
***
The next morning, I woke to find myself on the edge of the mattress with Connor sprawled in the centre.
"Typical," I muttered as I rolled over to silence my alarm.
The shrill noise hadn't woken Connor. He'd fallen asleep quickly last night and hadn't stirred once. I'd never actually slept in the same bed as Connor, but I had a feeling he didn't usually sleep so heavily. The weight of yesterday was still hanging over him.
My alarm was set to give me half an hour to get ready for school, but I happily let the next ten minutes pass as I lay on my side watching Connor sleep. For an eighteen-year old soccer player with a square jaw and the ghost of a stubble, he looked impossibly soft like this.
His hair was rumpled by sleep, the skin in the corner of his eyes smooth and relaxed. His lips were parted slightly to emit soft breaths that ruffled the strands of hair hanging over his forehead. Morning sun came rushing through the window, casting golden hues over his tan skin and at some point in the night, the sheets had tugged down to reveal where his hoodie had ridden up to expose a rigid cut of abdominal muscles.
It made my heart clench; he wore my team hoodie, the words ANDERSON and RIDGEMOUNT splayed across his back in scrappy but defined letters. It was a mark of ownership, but he wasn't mine. And I wanted him to be so badly.
Last night's events weren't lost on me. I stood by my decision to reject his advances, even if he thought that's what he wanted at the time. The problem with hating somebody for so long was that you really got to know them. I knew Connor well enough to know that he'd regret doing something charged with emotion if he wasn't doing it with a clear conscience.
A clear conscience he had no reason not to have. Because, seriously. Fuck his friend. Or ex-friend now, hopefully. What the hell kind of person outs someone just because they were lied to?
I wasn't stupid. I knew I didn't have all the information about what went down between Connor and his friends. But it didn't matter. Exposing someone's sexuality before they were ready was never justified. And Connor was very clearly not ready.
He'd laughed it off last night but I could see how much it hurt him. The choice to come out – if you come out – was something that was supposed to be on our terms. Straight people didn't go around announcing to the world they were straight. Why should queer people?
After all, the world had already taken so many of our rights away. Our right to love freely. Our identity. Our humanity. The right to tell our own story was the absolute bareminimum. And Connor's friend had stolen that from him too.
