oh wow, I didn't think there would be a chapter two but all I can think about are my gay children. If you haven't read chapter one, here's the link: https://scratch.mit.edu/projects/313288871 But if you are too lazy to click on the link, here's the story: Eliot had only walked to the park for comfort. He didn't feel like taking his grey, rusty bike because it always creaked, and the sharp parts dug into his knees. After coming home, he'd have bruises on his legs because the seat was too low, and--well, you get the point. Central park was always comforting to him. Hearing the high pitched squeals of re-united people, the coziness of the trees surrounding him, it was all wonderful. It was almost sort of an escape for him, eavesdropping on the latest gossip, and strolling casually on the side walk. Occasionally he'd bring his sketchbook here, but it was usually very late when he came, so he only had a little while to draw. It was 9:45AM now, so he would come home in 30 minuets or less. When he turned the corner, he saw that the sky was grey. Fluffy clouds were lined up and prevented the blue to show. A little bit of rain wont hurt. When I looked back down, I was face to face with my 'bestie'. Or that's what people called us. Some people in our homeroom called us boyfriends, but I told them to frick off, and they did. His name was Max. Max Diaz. We met at a club somewhere a few miles down. We talked and I realized that we were going to be in the same high school next year. He was also the first proud Gay person I ever met. It would always make me a little uncomfortable every time he--I dunno, flirted with me ? Or the time when I had to change out of my swimsuit in front of him, or sleep in the same bed as him at sleepovers, but it wasn't that bad unless he made a weird comment. I flashed back into reality and realized I was staring directly at his abs. Frick. Frrrriiick. I look back up at his face, flustered. He grins, and surprisingly his comment isn't too bad. "You like em' ?" He says in a stupid voice. I've heard way worse. Any less, he's still taking to loud and NO I don't. I cover my red face with my hand. "No, Max. Their ugly." I say, trying hard not to smile. He looks directly at me and removes my hand from my face. "What's wrong ?" He pouts, and it looks like he's trying to hold in laughter. I can instantly feel my face getting hotter. "N-nothing." I say. I stuttered. Like an idiot. Friiiiiickkkk. Though I do have a 113 IQ so actually, I'm pretty smart. I realize something. My heart is beating. Really fast. I..do I like him ?
Chapter two: Stop it. Stop It. Ever since the 'incident' at the park, I've been thinking about him. Him. The last time I had a guy crush was 4 years ago. In fifth grade. I honestly just liked him cause' he was cute. He had tan skin and dark hair. He would wear blocky, black glasses. His name was Ethan. I confessed to him the week before school finished. He used to be my best friend. Then when he found out I was into him, He was disgusted. He told everyone I was 'gay.' I was not. I'm bi, and it really sucked being called gay. He stopped contacting me. I cried, hours and hours. Tears flooded my room and I could barely breathe. My face grew puffy and my eyes were red. Just thinking about this memory makes me choke. Sometimes I pass by Ethan in the hallways. When he looks at me, I do sometimes start to cry. But I suck it up, cause' no one wants to see that. He walks down in a stupid, narcissistic stance. He laughs with his friends. Maybe they are laughing at me. I don't care. Besides, that's not what we are talking about right now. We're talking about Max. I met Max at a club, like I told you. We weren't going to the same middle school at the time. Sometimes I wonder why I went to that club. For two reasons. One, if I didn't go, I wouldn't have met Max. Two, I was 13. Why the heck would a 13-year old go to a club?! I'm pretty sure I wasn't even allowed to go in. But, I mean, neither was Max, so we are even. Actually, its fine I'm thinking about Max. I mean, he is my best friend. On the other hand, probably no one thinks about their best friend like this. I scrape my long fingernails on my legs. It's too much to think about. My memory-foam bed is slowly pulling me in further, so I get sweaty. I sit up in bed, slowly. My phone buzzes in my pocket. When I pull my goldish phone out of my pocket, my eyes immediately brighten. I see a snapchat from Max. I don't know why. When I click on it, I see a picture. Max is lying in his bed, it looks like he just got out of the shower. His dark brown hair is wet and he's practically un-clothed. The caption reads; "Hey, wanna come over ? :)" I'm surprised he didn't send a winky face. Yeah, I'll come over. But why ? Why so sudden ? I send him a snap back. "Yeah, be there in 30." Why did I do that ? Why now ? I'm so distraught that I don't realize I'm packing. Max doesn't have a spare room in his house. So I know I'll end up in the same bed.
