Peter in Highschool - 1. The injury

“Beep beep beep.” the alarm annoyingly sounded... maybe as it was supposed to be.

I definitely am the kind of person who hates waking up in the morning. My head hurts even my “heart” hurts with the feeling that I have to let go of the bed’s warmth. I feel kind of dizzy and when my feet touch the floor it’s like they fight back. Usually it’s all in slow motion… actually it’s me in slow motion and when I see “BANG” I’m late, you know?

I had the weirdest dream. In that dream I was in the woods… then I was looking at the stars holding hands with a friend… a hot and hunk friend, by the way… he held my hand, he hugged me… wow… and then at the end, he died staring at me. Crazy stuff, huh?!

That agitated sleep should have added to my slow motion and, yeah, I was getting late.

This kind of stuff happens only in the dream, you know… I mean, I wish I had a close friend… maybe even a special someone.

Well, I’m your ordinary teenager: 5’10”, not short, not so tall, I’m thin but I’m going to the gym after classes, trying to build some muscle, maybe a six pack… for now, flat abs is fine. I have dirty blond hair and blue eyes. It’s supposed to make me beautiful, right? Maybe it doesn’t work all the time.

I say that because… Well… I don’t have a poor attitude, on the opposite, I mostly go along with everybody and I don’t get bullied… well, not much, and I’m not shy, I talk to the teachers… I talk to mostly everyone… maybe I even talk too much… I’m not shy at all… well, except for one thing: Girls!

I mean, I’m not too shy nor a jerk who gets cut off by stupid comments… no, actually, I’m friends with most of the girls and we talk about everything… they even talk boys in front of me!

But here’s the thing… I guess I don’t know much about anything. Until recently I used to think the definition of gay was to be willing to be a woman, having wished to dress up like one… I used to think I admired some guys and just wanted to be like then, athletic, all confident, with those flashy smiles and… yeah, I’m starting to get all heated up with those thoughts… and no, that’s not only admiration, inspiration, not even envy… that’s being gay… but hey, they don’t have a manual about it… and that “talking to your parents thing” NO WAY… it seems beautiful only in the Internet… ‘LIVE’ it should be tragedy!

Not the boyfriend – wow, strong word – not even a cool friend… you know, the one who’s not only colleagues like the others but that one you could tell anything… maybe being mocked but never refused help to… well, I’m friendly to everybody, but it seems everybody is already best friends with someone else… it seems my best friend is lost in another life time… just not meant to be…

Anyways, like I said, I was getting late, but it’s just that I wasn’t eager to go to school that day. The school scheduled that day a small trip to a water treatment station. I mean, c’mon, this is not boring, it’s dull!

I wore faded light blue jeans… they would look way cool with some scissor work but mom didn’t let me... nor would they allow me into school… anyway, along with an ordinary t-shirt, got my bag and off to school.

Yeah, your ordinary teenager with an ordinary t-shirt off to an ordinary school day? Well, we’ll see…

***

I arrived at school and stopped at the boys, talking in front of school… to greet all of them… actually I got there like for two minutes and got in, at school. It’s funny to think about it, if you’re along with the guys they have to greet you, if you’re alone passing through the halls, some of the guys don’t even greet you… anyway, I can’t not talk to the boys at all… you know, it’s hard to keep up with the highschool ‘code’. For example, I’m a senior as I’m already 17 – and a half (!) – so, I must not talk to the freshmen, ‘though I’d love to… I mean, some of them look so friendly… some of them look so hot.

So… I arrived to my first class… it was Lit. I think no one deserves Lit as first class, early in the morning… or that was only the gloomy early morning teenager inside me showing on my face.

So, I took my seat between the girls and got my notebook and pencil case out of my bag.

“Good morning, Peter.” they said.

“Good morning. You two look like you just got out of a fashion magazine this morning.” I complimented them. That was no fake compliment, I mean, they are really beautiful.

With that, Jen winked at me and Vicky blew me a kiss.

The classes went on uneventfully, otherwise, the teacher would go all “shhs” and “attention please”.

The bell rang and we should go to the buses, to the school trip about water treatment. So, yes, instead of letting us sleep a little more we had to have the first class and then the school trip.

Jen and Vicky wouldn’t go because they had “other plans”. I wouldn’t go along to watch them make out on the school’s back wall with some dumb jocks – who come to school in football uniform on days they don’t even have practice, I mean, who does that? C’mon! I didn’t want to be there, like the odd one out, watching them make out with those hunk, gorgeous guys in uniform… ahem… anyways… so that, I went to the bus.

I didn’t have any specific mate to talk to, so I just hoped I didn’t get a seat close to the troublemakers – that’s usually in the back – or the nerds who would start talking about some freaking new game I had no clue of. But, mostly, my faith for that trip would be not to understand the inner jokes and zone out.

As I entered the bus I was short on options. It was already full. “Great” I ironically thought to myself.

There was a seat, so I just got it – not even by the window as that one was already taken.

“Hey, Peter, hi.” the boy said to me.

“Hi.” I replied back, trying to be friendly and remember his name. “Nicholas, right?” I continued with an automatic smile out of politeness.

I was almost sure, but it’s always like that, when I think I remember the name I say it wrong, so I asked.

“Yeah, Nick is fine.” He replied with a smile himself.

Nick was a senior too, he was a bit taller than me for what I recall last time we were talking to the boys in front of school, chatting, standing 5’11”, somewhere between thin and muscular and probably with flat abs but I couldn’t tell for sure as he was in jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt.

“So, like my folks, it seems yours also didn’t let you drop this water treatment station tour stuff?” he asked, still smiling, friendly, as the sun hit him through the window and the reflected on his light blond hair, shoulders length, that he just took from his eyes – very hazel – and put behind his ear.

Well, it seems someone was “no groups” as well, like me and was making small talking… better than nothing.

“Yeah… they never have a school trip to the arcade…” I replied.

“Or Vegas!” he completed… and if I was not mistaken that was the flashy confident straight jock grin.

“Do we have any classes together?” he asked. With this, the bus started moving.

“I don’t think so.” I said after thinking about it for a second. “I guess we’ve seen each other when the guys use to chat during break.’

Well, this is the moment he’s only being cool to me because someone is arriving and he says ‘could you please switch places because…’ mmm, no it seems he’s keeping a conversation with me. You’d say I’m just freaked out or paranoid, but usually nothing goes beyond social pleasantries, for experience. This far, for a change, it didn’t seem to be the case… cool.

“It’s funny the way everybody is all greetings in front of school but when they cross paths with you in the halls, it seems they don’t even know your name” he continued. I had the slight impression of a trace of sadness on him about it... but only slight… or that was my imagination.

Nick looked down to his hands for a second and then looked to the front of the bus.

I mentally talked to myself “Peter, you’re not helping to make conversation here”, so that I had to say something.

“So, what do you like to do… like in your freetime… when you’re not at school?” I bluntly asked.

Wow, so straightforward, I thought to myself, mentally kicking myself. Why didn’t I just ask ‘do you always come here’…. Inside a bus, in movement… so cliché!

Don’t blame me! You know usually it’s only social talking with the guys… with the girls you don’t have to do anything, they do all the talking… lol… it’s funny: I’m very ‘social’ at school so I talk quite a lot, but it never develops into actual conversation.. so yup… here’s the ‘no subject topics’ ‘talkative guy’. Anyways, he replied and just got along.

“Mmm… let me see…” he said, he looked kind of upwards, combed his hair with his hand and even bit his lower lip to conceive a good answer… so cute!

“I love going to the mall but not only to ‘walk in circles’ with the guys like they do… I like wandering inside the stores, take a look at the clothes. I like going to the movies too… but the guys are very complicated about that… they always have something else to do… so sometimes, I go by myself…” he was saying, his hands resting on his lap “don’t stare at his crotch, Peter, his face, face” I kept mentally saying to myself.

“I like going to the park too, I like running, playing basketball, volleyball, swimming, whatever… but I’m not really good in any of it” he finished with a light shrug and a laugh.

It was so cute of him, with that lock of blond hair falling over his right cheek as he was putting it back behind his ear with his hand, those eyes looking at me… I swear, if he just asked me to kneel in front of him and give him some head I would! “Stop it, Peter, don’t go all queer. Keep yourself together, either that or the boy’s gonna think you’re some kind of sick kid!” I mentally said to myself.

“What?!” I dumbly replied as he kept looking at me with that quizzical look.

“And you, what do you do when you’re not at school?” he asked, the smile, his light mood, never leaving his face. “You know, as you asked, now it’s my turn…” he tentatively trailed off.

I was kind of zoning out collecting my thoughts as he took the words out of my mouth… his answer would be exactly what *I* would answer. No, it wasn’t just because I was staring at his crotch. I swear!

“Think of something, fast, and don’t be repetitive, it’s humiliating.” Yeah, I’m a too self-conscious teenager… I’ve realized that by now… but who is not, right?!

“Well, I like listening to music.” I replied. Clever enough, I quickly evaluated.

“What kind of music do you like?” he asked.

I gave a vague answer. He asked one more question. So, he really wants to talk.

“I like Madonna… a lot… I’ve been listening to Westlife lately.” I replied.

“I prefer light rock stuff, like Red Hot Chili Peppers, Foo Fighters…” he trailed off.

And we kept chatting and half an hour later we’re almost arriving.

“What about girls? Who do you think is hot?” he continued, a large smile, a very confident one appearing on his face.

“Oh my god, oh my god.” I was mentally repeating. I guess I started hyperventilating. Everything was fine up to now, I was talking on safe ground. I tried to play cool but I’m sure panic rushed through my expression.

“Ah… um… I…”

The bus came to a halt.

“Everybody, listen up!” the teacher started. “We’re here. Don’t get up yet. I want to go through a few instructions.”

“Be careful not to get injured, we’re not at school, ‘though we’re visiting, this is a place with technical issues, so be careful aaand stay together, do not stay behind the group, ok?!”

Nick was being so cool, so polite… and cute… but I guess now is the time he finds his group of friends who were on the other bus…

It turns out he just kept talking to me during the entire visitation to the station, even when the guide stopped to explain, we’d keep talking in the back of the group. We got one or two glares from the teacher but we didn’t care much.

The morning went by fast as we talked chatted about music, school, general stuff, TV programs… Nick was easy to talk to, I’d say he’s charming, you know?!

Lunch time arrived and we got a bench to ourselves, to have lunch.

“Did you bring lunch or are you gonna buy it?” Nick inquired.

“I brought it.” I replied.

“Me too.” he said, so we got our lunch bags, inside our backpacks and started opening it. I brought a sandwich and he had some pieces of pie.

“Do you want a piece?” he asked. It looked really good. It seems his mom is a skilled cook.

“No, thanks.” I automatically replied and instantly regretted it, because it looked really good, besides, it was very kind of him offering it.

“Do you want a piece of sandwich?” I asked, and, of course, he declined because I did it first.

Anyways, we kept talking from where we were – as we never really stopped the conversation – and ate lunch.

Not much was said in the next five minutes as we were eating, but being so polite and easygoing, Nick was easy to be close to and not much needed to be said.

As we finished lunch he offered “Mint drops?” I gladly accepted. He got one himself as well.

After that, we headed with the school group to the last part of the visitation, before we got back to the school bus.

Everything was fine so far… Nick was a cool kid… I hoped we could chat more often at school.

“Everybody, pay attention!” the guide said.

“We’re going to a sector where there are platforms. The path isn’t perfectly levelled and there are some gaps between them. We’re signalizing it better in the near future, but for now, attention, please!” he continued.

Of course, I didn’t pay attention to any of it, as I was animatedly chatting with Nick… and I’m a clumsy person.

As we were walking, I stepped and it hurt really bad.

“Aaaah.” I shouted and as I realized I was screaming, I tried to resume it to a whimper. I sat on the ground. Nick was very kind to kneel beside me with one hand on my knee and the other on my back.

“Are you okay?” he asked. I had one hand on my shin and the other on the floor, for support.

“Back off, everybody!” the teacher shouted, coming from behind the commotion that had formed.

It was Mr. Thompson, the gym teacher. Gosh, even in pain I couldn’t help noticing he was so hot. He was tall, had very broad shoulders, very short black hair, a strong angled jaw and those arms, made his white t-shirt so tight in the short sleeves, his bulging chest was so visible even in a t-shirt that wasn’t supposed to be tight – except for those arms, impossible to fit any ordinary t-shirt… I’m sure he had a very hairy, manly chest, you know, as his lower arms were very hairy… and as he was always in shorts, it wasn’t showing his thighs that day but I’ve glanced’em in other opportunities and those hairy legs… those so defined calves… and his bulge in his shorts… it wasn’t meant to be so obvious, but he was standing so close… and I was a pervert teenager!

“Gosh, it hurts” I said, back to reality.

“Can you stand up?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess.” I said.

As I stepped on the ground it hurt like hell and I had to support myself on Mr. Thompson. I had one arm across his shoulders, so my head was practically resting on his shoulder and gosh, his cologne smelled so good!

“We’re getting back to the bus… slowly, k?” he said, as he mentioned to the other teacher and the guide to finish the visitation, which was about to finish… that to me, finished even earlier.

We went back to the bus, in small steps. Nick went along with us.

Despite the pain, I admit it was very nice to be so close to Mr. Thompson large shoulder. I had one arm behind his neck for support and I wanted to put my other hand on his well-developed chest… but nooo, I didn’t do that… I kept that idea to myself!

We arrived on the bus along with everybody.

I got the seat by the window and had my leg on Mr. Thompson’s lap and he had his hand on my leg. I mean, who was complaining?!

Nick took the seat right behind mine and was kneeling on his seat, supporting himself with his arms on my seat, right above my head, looking at me.

Every time I looked up, I could see his angelical face and he would give me a weak smile.

His hair was falling close to my face as he was looking down at me.

With that, I could smell his t-shirt… smelling of clean clothes, and his blond locks, close to me, I swear they smelled like strawberries!

***

The rest of the day was uneventful. As I arrived home, dad took a look at my foot and said it was just a luxation – dad’s a doc – and said that I should stay in bed for two or three days and I would be recovered but mom freaked out saying that I needed to go to the hospital, go through an x-ray scan… and she got it her way.

Sure thing, the doctor at the hospital repeated my father’s words, gave me a prescription and ordered me to stay home for the rest of the week.

As I arrived home, I stayed on my bed thinking of the day.

I felt horny recalling the day events – aside the injury part – Nick’s beautiful face, features… Mr. Thompson….

“Tomorrow I wish I could go to school to see Nick again, to talk to him.” I was lying and thinking to myself.

The second thought was that I was too silly because, firstly, he was straight – didn’t I recall him asking about hot girls?! – and secondly, not even as cool friend… ‘cause all the cool kids already have friends… maybe he would even greet me the next day, but after that, get back to normal… and I’d get back to social standards, so that, covered up in oblivion… but not even that I was to know but go straight to the not talking to me part as I wouldn’t be going to school the next day thanks to that stupid foot… stupid me… damn it!

Soon after that, I felt asleep from the pain killer medicines.