colby sat in the back of his english class, his hand hanging down, letting it dangle. his other hand was on his chest, fiddling with his cross necklace draping down his shirt from his neck. he was staring off to the front of the class, to the back of the blonde boy's head. colby loved that blonde boy, despite knowing nothing about him, not even his name. colby wasn't new, and neither is the blond boy. they've been going to school together since elementary. why didn't colby just ask? he doesn't speak. no, he's not mute. he just doesn't speak. he does, and he can, just not often. there was something about that blonde boy that made his heart flutter and his stomach churn. in a good way, of course. he'd be lying if he said he didn't at least slightly like the boy. it'd also be a lie if colby said he had no friends. people don't think he doesn't, because he doesn't speak, but he has a handful of close friends. colby dreams of having a perfect life, imagining what it would be like. colby lost his mom at a young age, and never knew his dad. he was alone. at least, he felt that way. he was watching the blonde boy talk to his neighboring friend. she had long, dark hair with yellowish blonde highlights streaking down. nothing could compare to his laugh or his soft voice, or the pink tint to his face when he got flustered by something. he wished he had his life. he seemed so happy all the time. i guess he stared for too long, as the blonde boy turned around, his blue eyes piercing the brunette's gaze. colby everted his gaze down to his desk, his face heating up.
