Luke Harrison is gay.
He's also in love with the very straight captain of the basketball team.
Will Luke be able to secure the man of his dreams? Or will he just remain Hopelessly Devoted?
Cover Credits go to the insanely talented and stupidly funn...
My palms are sweating heavily, I feel my heart going a mile a minute, and I fear I may pass out. We're in science class about to present our projects. Sean and I have worked hard on our projects, but that doesn't stop me from being scared due to two main reasons.
The smaller reason is that I have yet to see Sean's rocket. Despite my desperate attempts to get a sneak peak, Sean wouldn't so much as show me a photo. Every time I would ask he'd say "The best things in life require patience" and then start tickling me until I forgot about the subject.
The bigger reason for my fear, however, was the fact that I have a near-crippling fear of performing. Yes, I'm one of those. I suppose it's not much of a shock considering how small my friend group is, but I've never been good with other people. I've always been even worse when I am at the center of attention.
My leg bounces against the footrest on my stool, shaking the table. It's the only way I'm able to release my anxieties without running out of the room screaming.
"Rabbit, you good?" Sean leans over and whispers into my ear.
"Y-yeah. J-just a bit ...uh... nervous." I force out a chuckle at my own expense.
Under the table, I feel Sean's hand slip into my lap and grasp my own.
He looks at me with an intense expression. "It's ok, Luke. I'll be right next to you. Just breathe."
As if he spoke the words to an ancient spell, the elephant on my chest is lifted a bit. His calming voice just soothes me in a way that certainly isn't normal.
We sit through presentation after presentation just like that. Me silently trying to panic but Sean being there to chase away the demons.
Finally, it happens.
"Next up, Mr. Harrison and Mr. Jackson." My Dad says from his desk.
Sean gently squeezes my hand before rising. I grab the poster board we'd made during our many afternoon tutoring sessions, trying not to ruin it with my sweaty hands. Sean pulls the rocket from his bag. It's covered in bubble wrap, something that confuses me until he finally unwraps it and unveils his creation to the world.
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My brain nearly explodes. How in the name of Gosh did he manage to make that by himself? It looks so professional. You'd never be able to tell it wasn't made in a factory but was, in fact, made by hand.
We take our place at the front of the room, me setting up the poster while Sean very carefully sets his masterpiece down. It doesn't slip my mind that many of my classmates' mouths are gaping like fishes at our rocket.
I take a deep breath, steeling my resolve.
"H-hi. My-y na-ame is L-L-Luke Ha-Harrison." I can barely get the words to leave my mouth without having a heart attack. I'd honestly be impressed if anyone understood any of that.
