chapter two

                                    

                                          

He wants to hate him. He wants to see him the way everyone else saw him — rude, smart ass, hopeless, and everything else that made him pay more attention to him. At first he thought it was just so he can beware of him, beware of his rising grades that threatened his spot as top of the class and his attitude that was said to match his, but now he knows it's because of something else. It's something a lot less like rivalry and hate, and something a lot more like infatuation.
                          
How could a boy be as pretty as Michael? It didn't make any sense to him and he worked out the numbers and expressions. How could he be so rough on the edges but also so soft? How could someone so bad look so good? How can someone be so feared when no one even knew who he was besides for a name and a reputation? 
                          
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair.
                          
He didn't even know him, so why was he so invested in him? Why couldn't he just let it all go? He doesn't want to like him, and doesn't want to spend so much time with him on his head, but he's so enticing. He's all sharp glares and silent grimaces, but when he does smile it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever seen, and his laughs were like music to his ears, his favorite song that almost felt like a guilty pleasure. It's not his song to play when he wants, when he hears it it's faint, faraway, played by someone else unknowing he's the only one that can control the volume, and he wants to yell in his face if he knows. 
                          
Does he know the way Michael puts him on a pedestal fit for a God? Does he see the way Michael opens up for him like a book just waiting to be read? Is he aware of just how much time and attention he gives him because he's clearly dying to be more than just his best friend?
                          
It almost hurts him to think someone was just letting someone as attractive as Michael pine over them without actually doing anything in the situation. He just pretends his blatant feelings weren't there, and it males his own chest hurt to think he was in that same situation — he was Michael, pining after a guy who's clearly not interested, and Michael was Luke, clearly ignoring his feelings for someone else. 
                          
He rolled his eyes and then looked down at his paper, the words in his head were jumbled and falling apart the second they formed, making him frustrated. He couldn't focus. His feelings were one big twist of syllables and missing letters that held kinks in ever millimeter of it' length and every space. He didn't know what he was trying to picture as his pencil touched the blank sheet of paper and lingered there in a dot, unwavering and unsure. Ideas broke apart before they could form complete sentences or coherent thoughts and any photo in his head crumbled and burned into nothing but dust and exasperation. 
                          
He groaned loudly before throwing his pencil on to the desk and standing up in irritation, too preoccupied to so much as draw a smiley face. He can't even remember how it looks, and his hand can't even think about which way to glide his pencil. Left? Right? Were smileys sideways? 
                          
Calum threw himself out of his front door, slamming it shut before walking down the street to find his friends. He really can't do that project right now. He's lacking proper inspiration and of he doesn't find himself in the presence of someone he doesn't hate then he's going to explode. 
                          
His knuckles hurt as he knocked on the door only a couple streets down from his house, and he smiled when his friend's sister opened the door. "Roni," he breathed out and she rose an eyebrow. "- is Kaitlin home?"
                          
"Password?" She giggled up at him and he ruffled the middle schooler's hair as he bent down to her height. "Hey!"
                          
"Dingle-hopper." He whispered and she opened the door wider for him. "Thanks, beautiful."
                          
Her cheeks went red and he laughed as she shut the door behind him and then ran upstairs. "Katie! Calum's here for you!" She called and the boy shoved his hands into his pockets before walking to her room.