A Walk Through Hell

I'm nervous. The school is practically empty except for a few teachers walking by every few minutes, besides them, Poof and I are alone. I've noticed he flips his hair a lot, even though it’s not long enough to cover his eyes yet. His pale eyes twinkle every time he looks at me, his lips are a light hue of pink. I resist the urge to taste them.

"What sport do you play?" I break my eyesight away from his lips.

"S-s-soccer." He raises his eyebrow at me.

"Are you alright?" I take a deep breath.

"I'm ok." No I'm not.

"Want to walk around?"

"Sure." We make our way past a few classrooms and the statue of a gladiator in his fighting stance. I can't help but stare at Poof. We're the same height and muscular, I always thought Poof to be a flaming gay guy not manly one. I notice a dark scar on his right bicep.

"What's that?" He lifts his arm to make it more visible.

"This?" He flexes his arm on purpose. Sexy show off.

"Yeah, what happened?" He puts his are down.

"I burn."

"You burn?"

"I burn myself."

"Why?" I grabbed his hand from shock, he answers me calmly.

"I'm depressed."

"So am I." He points at my taped up wrists.

"I can see that?"

"I burn myself because I don't want to have a cutting accident." We're holding hands and our faces are inches apart, I think people usually kiss when this happens.

"Poof, burn scars don't usually fade."

"I know. I want to remember all the hardships I dealt with as a teenager so I don't repeat them." That makes sense.

"Just be careful." He grins.

"For you, I will." We spend the next hour making small talk and the whole time we're holding hands. I have to ask him this question before it eats away at my soul.

"Do you like me?" He doesn't answer. Some questions are better left unasked I guess. He looks me in the eye.

“No." Why do I feel heartbroken? "No I don't like you, I love you." He tightens his grip on my hand. "It's four-thirty." Really?

"I should go get Francis." We stand up, our hands are still together. I really want to kiss him. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"You will."

"Bye Poof."

"Bye Zalex." As we walk our separate ways we both don't want to let go of each other’s hand, eventually I let go and walk towards the track. I have the strange feeling he's watching me as I walk away. I reach the track in about three minutes. I scan the field for Francis. I see her sitting on the bleachers with her right leg propped up. I walk over.

"Are you okay?" She looks at me.

"Yeah, I twisted it. It’s just swollen." I look down at it. It’s definitely swollen.

"Can you walk?" She shakes her head.

"Okay. Well, if you can hold the icepack on your ankle I can carry you to the car.”

“Do you think you can?"

I grin. "Baby, I'm your Superman."