Just for fun.
There was always an eerie way he did things. The way he walked gave away his stand point. The tone of his voice gave away his emotion. And the way he stared gave away that he liked me.
It was a charade I told myself, over and over, like a broken record. Though I wouldn’t listen, I couldn’t. My heart and eyes told me deceiving thoughts. But then again, I never was sure on much of anything, was I? He was so mysterious, I wanted to get to know him, first thing. I told myself that he was probably nice around that deep outer shell, though it turns out he wasn’t. He spoke only what was on his mind, and he put spite into it, to add to his melodramatic act.
His essence was nice though, when he was calm. Because instead of complaining about his life being terrible, he would actually just sit there, plainly looking through whatever window there was in the room. So I suggested to always sit by the window, faking that I had poor eyesight, so I started wearing fake glasses.
“Guy,” my adoptive mother told me, “Don’t fake something just because you want some girl to notice you.” I never told them that Sync was a boy, just so that they didn’t think I was creepy, they were homophobes after all.
His dream was to become a teacher, and to do something important, and I liked that about him. Sync was about the only person I knew that didn’t want to lead a life of glory. There was something wrong with me, I told myself as you talk to me for a project. It was always awkward talking to him because I kept trying to imply me liking him, though he never got it and naively kept on working on it while I went to the bathroom to wash my face off, since I would tell the teacher I was sick.
Nothing was great, because we were a few years apart, we didn’t have a lot of the same classes, only that one class. I thanked that our school had grades 6-10, just enough room for us for a couple years. I failed several times just so that I could finally be in the same classes as him, a grand total of 3 times, the first time was on accident in third grade, the second time I failed because the teacher I had was a terrible teacher, but then the last time, I never turned in anything the last couple of weeks. It was a good thing that my birthday was barely in the range to make it to where I couldn’t have started school until I was 6.
I stopped him once in the hall, asking quickly if we had homework in science, since I hated it. He blushed a little and said a hostile no. I don’t know why I was drawn to him so much, there was just something about him that seemed very nice. He was like a streak of sunshine on a cloudy day.
My adoptive brother, Luke, would hold parties for the block every once in a while, and I would see him there, ask how he was. I think he thought I was creepy, though I didn’t want to think that way.
It was after the last party of the year, that one day that I can never forget, June 3rd, 2012, 11:57 PM. There was an incident. It was terrible, Sync’s twin, ion, had seen the whole thing. There was a car crash. There was blood everywhere, I wanted to die.
Sync had died.
It was terrible, and Ion was the only witness, and the driver was drunk, I think his name was Jade or something, local sarcastic a**, along with his gay-mate follower Dist. They weren’t looking, Sync was texting someone on his phone, and in an instant, he was dead.
His face was disturbingly pretty, I was able to hold it, since the cops weren’t called until a few minutes after the incident. Though that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst of it was that, right before the incident, right before the heart retching end.
I got a text message from him, it read this:
‘I like you.’
The end.
rainbow write;; a writer's guild.
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