When I started my sophomore year in a new high school, I was sure it would be epically bad. Besides being the new guy in town with no friends and no social status, I also had to hide the fact that I was gay. Now, I'm not saying I had it easy back in my old neighborhood because I didn't. Being sixteen and gay is very hard and at times very scary and lonely. Especially, when you haven't come out of the closet to anyone except your two best friends who you've known since kindergarten. Around them, I could relax and act normal and not worry about how I sounded or acted. Now, surrounded by new kids who didn't know me from squat, I had to go back into hiding and play it straight for a whole year.
So yeah, tenth grade wasn't looking too bright. Then I met Devon and everything changed. It happened during my fifth period history class. I was sitting in the back, bored out of my mind when the door opened and in walked tall, dark, and handsome Devon Ward. I couldn't help staring at him. He was beautiful. Sporting a funny lopsided haircut, he was thin yet toned, like a swimmer or dancer. The teacher had him sit in the third seat from the front in the row besides mine, and for the rest of the class I kept my eyes fixed on my textbook, afraid even to glance in his direction.
By the end of the week I was crushing on him bad and nearly driving myself crazy trying to figure out if he was gay or not. I couldn't just go up and ask him. That would be suicide. So I admired him in secret, stealing glances at him during class when I was sure he wasn't looking and almost becoming a stalker as I followed him to his other classes. This carried on for six months, and I still had no idea how to find out if I stood a chance with him. Then February came around and with it, the Valentine's Day dance. That's when it finally dawned on me that if I didn't hurry up and make a move, someone else would.
I wasn't the only one sneaking looks at him during class. Nearly all the girls had tried to catch his eye or gave him flirty smiles as they passed his desk. My only comfort was that Devon seemed oblivious to all the attention or was simply not interested in them. Still, with Valentine's Day and the dance only five days away, I knew it to be only a matter of time before someone snatched him up. So I gathered my courage, wrote him a note saying I liked him and that we could meet across the street in the park after school if he was interested.
I only put my first name; since there was more than one Kevin in our history class I was sure he wouldn't guess it was me. Twice I almost threw it away, afraid that Devon would show it to his friends, and I would be outed to the entire school. Praying I wasn't setting myself up for a beating, I went to his locker Wednesday morning and pushed the note into the slot between his locker door. The hall was empty, it would be at least another hour before kids began showing up. I had to force myself to walk normally down the hall and out into the courtyard where I stayed till the first bell rang. When history class came around I started having a mini panic attack. A million questions flashed through my head. How should I act? What if my face gave me away the minute I saw him. Would he question everyone named Kevin in class if they left him the note? By the time fifth period came around I was so freaked out I almost ditched the class. Almost, but didn't because I knew if I did it would have tipped Devon off that the letter was from me. So instead, I all but ran to fifth period as soon as the bell rang, hoping to beat him there because I didn't want to walk past him to my desk.
(to be cont...maybe)