Just Another Lovesick Boy

One hour, thirty-four minutes, and twenty-seven seconds.

It took me one hour, thirty-four minutes, and twenty-seven seconds for me to feel completely satisfied that the blue paint was out of my hair, my pants, and Vans. My red shirt was totally corrupted due to the various stains on the front and how the back was totally drenched in blue paint. My blue stained hands clutched the ruined shirt as I sighed and shook my head, my wet brown hair falling into my face. Much to my displeasure, the paint had tinted my face, my neck, my hands, and some parts of my arms. I glared up into my bathroom mirror to see my blue-tinted skin and thought about my attack.

All I ever gave them was respect. All of us may have had been on bad terms with each other but I at least gave them respect. I never treated them badly in any way. I stayed polite, like my mom raised me, and what did they do? They attacked me. I could not understand what exactly I did wrong. Did I even do anything or was she just empty on the inside? I heard things about the Demon Couple doing bad things that humiliated people but I always thought of them as rumors. But I guess one never thinks much of something until it happens to them. I never really realized how cold all of those so-called popular people were. They did not feel thing when they were hurting others; they only cared about themselves. It was all an unnecessary war with them; they fought with others to get to the top, even though being there did not mean a thing. When they went off to college, nobody would care if they slept with the half the football team. When they get a cheap job somewhere, nobody would care if they beat up Spencer Glass in the boys' locker room. Their wives or husbands and children would not praise them; they would most likely be disappointed. So when I thought about, what did it all matter? I was raised to be a gentleman towards women and look how I got treated.

My pink tongue flicked out to lick my pink lips that had a small blue splatter on the side. I bit the inside of my cheek and furrowed my eyebrows as I pushed my hair back. What the hell was I going to do about my skin? In the shower, I scrubbed my skin raw with my mom's exfoliating wash cloth in hope that it would peel off the blue tinted skin. The result was just sore blue skin. I suppose that I could put on some of my mom's cover up but that would be a lot of her expensive make-up wasted on me. My face scrunched up in disappointment before I pulled on a white shirt and a pair of blue plaid boxers before I walked out of the bathroom and into the hallway. I could hear silence in the living room as I silently walked down the stairs. Out of habit, I leaned against a wall in the room after I entered it. My mom and Freedom were staring up at me in sadness, while Eddy's dad, Thomas, stared in sympathy, and Eddy in anger. I averted their stares as I looked down and slightly shrugged. The sound of rustling caught my attention before a pair of small, pale arms wrapped around my waist. I opened my eyes to see Freedom's small blonde head looking up at me with her blue eyes wide. My face crumbled down to a pained, stretched-out smile as I looked down at her. She squeezed my waist one last time before letting me go and taking a step back. My eyes turned up towards the older three people in the room.

"My poor baby," my mom finally spoke as she stood up, walked towards me, and held me in her arms.

I closed my eyes shut, determined to not let the tears that were building up show. I wrapped my arms around her and inhaled her scent in. My mom always had a somewhat unique smell. It was a mix of her shampoo, lavender body wash, powdery deodorant, and perfume. All were seemingly sweet scents and put together, they made a heavenly scent. My mother has taken care of me by herself for eleven years. She was the one held me when she cried and I was the one that clung to her when I cried. Her scent was the only one I ever really paid attention to and I was glad I did. I loved my mom's smell. It was comforting. It smelled like how a mother should smell. I could not imagine a mother smelling any different. I remember when I was a bit younger I would wonder what I smelled like to her. Did I smell like a teenage boy; slightly sweaty and men's body spray? Or did I smell like a son, with the smell of my shampoo, her lavender body wash, and a small spray of Axe?

My mom's arms around me always seemed to be like a sanctuary. Her skin was always soft and I wondered if she made it so or if it was just natural. Her arms were like angel wings as they wrapped around my form. Her hair seemed to cover my face as I buried my face into her shoulder in sadness. From as far back as I could remember my mom was always healthy. She was never too skinny or too chubby. She was constantly fit due to her daily exercising. Times like these, when we were comforting each other, made me wonder a lot. Does my skeletal form feel uncomfortable in her arms? If so, does she just deal with because I'm her son or she just pities me? The majority of the time, I answer my own questions with positive answers, like I smell exactly how she thinks a son should and my bony body seems perfect for hers to hug.

"I thought she was perfect, Mom," I mumbled into her shoulder.

"Oh, honey. I can't tell you if she is or isn't. But I can tell you that things get worse before they get better," she repeated Freedom’s words to me as she stroked the back of my wet hair.

When I was fourteen years old, my mom had a dream that she took extremely seriously. It happened a few months after Eddy’s mom had died and two weeks after Jack called for the first time in five years to say that he wanted to see me again. In my mom’s dream, Eddy and I were hanging out on the edge of a cliff while everyone was at the bottom having a party. She was calling up to us to be careful when we both fell and onto some sharp rocks, killing us instantly. She said that she would never forget the sight of our bodies or how she and Thomas cried endlessly as they held our bodies. Suddenly, Jesus appeared. He placed his hands on our foreheads and turned to my mom to tell her that things will be worse before they get better. Ever since then, those words have been my mom’s advice for most of our problems.

The weirdest part of it all was that apparently Eddy’s dad had the same dream on the same night.

They both never really knew what it meant. But every time something bad ever happened to me or Eddy, they always told us that things get bad before they get good. And they were always right. The situation always turned out good in the end. But in this certain occasion, I doubted my mom's words.

I licked my lips and nodded after I pulled away from my mom. I bit the inside of my cheek as I stared down at Eddy and his father. Eddy was slightly glaring at the wall behind my head before realizing his facial expression, immediately changing it into a big grin and patting the seat cushion next to him. I walked over; my shoulders slumped down, and lowered myself onto the couch. I fiddled around with my own fingers as Eddy rubbed my back in a comforting way and my mom sat next to Thomas.

"You okay, Adrian?" Mr. Devereux asked softly.

"I don't know. I mean, I thought she was supposed to be perfect," I mumbled.

"Well, at least we know she's a total bitch now," Eddy spoke out.

"Edward!" my mom said.

"It's okay, Jocelyn, I can discipline my son," Mr. Devereux said in his soft voice before standing up and slapping the back of Eddy's head.

"Ow! What the hell?" Eddy exclaimed.

"Watch the mouth, kid. Adrian, sometimes things aren't what they seem. Perhaps she didn't mean for it to happen."

"She saw them. She looked right at them and she didn't say a word. She just stared at them in the face and covered herself. And she freaking smiled. Don't you think she would at least say something?"

"Dad, he's got a point there. And I'm not saying it just because I officially don't like this girl anymore," Eddy spoke up.

"That is slightly confusing," Eddy's dad said after a moment of thinking it over.

"Confusing? That's more than confusing. It's baffling. Why would that girl be so nice to my son and then permit her friends to attack him that way?" my mom asked.

All was silent for a moment. Free, Mr. Devereux, and my mom were staring at various objects in different directions. I looked down at my blue stained hands as I tried to pick out the blue paint from under my fingernails. A silent groan of frustration escaped me after I failed. My eyes looked up to the people surrounding me to find that Eddy was staring straight at me with his eyes wide and a huge smile adorning his face. My eyebrows rose at his expression as I stared into his wide eyes.

"Yes?" I mumbled.

"There is a bright side to this."

"Like?"

"Your skin glows my favorite color," he grinned, "You're like Violet from Willie Wonka!"

I rolled my eyes before pulling him over on top of me to give him a huge hug. His Cheshire Cat grin grew larger as he felt my arms around him before he, in turn, wrapped his around my waist. It was moments like these that were the reason people at school said we were gay for each other. Though we could change how we acted around each other, we felt comfortable showing our affection for each other. I never understood the other ways guys act around each other at school. Fist bumping, head nodding, and punching each other never was my preference, so I was glad my best friend shared my view on this. His grip around my waist grows tighter until I can barely breathe. He looks up at me and gives me a grin before letting me go.

"It's always fun when your best friend glows your favorite color," he told me as he sat on my legs.

"I don't know. I think it would be cool if he was glowing yellow," Free spoke up.

"Free, if you want to see things glow yellow, just go into your room," I grinned.

She smiled sheepishly as she thought about her entirely yellow room. I gave her a smile and a wink before looking away towards Eddy. His hand was at his mouth as he stared up at me up and down. He moved his hand away and opened his mouth to speak.

"We can work with this," he grinned.



It took one hour, thirty-four minutes, and twenty-seven seconds for Eddy to get me ready for school the next day.

"Eddy, this feels weird," I stated.

"You don't know what you're talking about. Shut up," he mumbled as he straightened out my shirt.

I sighed exasperatedly as I looked at my reflection in the mirror. My sky blue Converse covered my feet with my blue socks poking out of the small hole on the side. Eddy had dressed me in his clothes, which were slightly baggy on my skinny figure. I was given a pair of dark blue skinny jeans with a baggy bright blue shirt.

I shook my head, not realizing I did so, as I tried to mess my hair up. It felt unnaturally frozen in place. Damn Eddy and his infinite bottles of hair products. What also felt unnatural was all the black eyeliner and blue eye shadow put around my eyelids. It felt caked onto my face and I knew that Eddy would severely hurt me if I even dared to take it off. I was not a make-up wearing guy. That was Eddy's position. I was the relatively normal guy and Eddy was my freaky friend. We completed each other; we were each other's opposites. It did not feel normal to look exactly like him. But that was how we were for the day. We looked exactly the same except he had a blue plaid button up shirt. The only way people would be able to tell us apart was our hair, as mine was short at the back and sides while his was long all around.

"This is so hysterically creepy, I think I might die of laughter," he grinned maniacally at our reflections.

I looked over at him through the corners of my eyes before grabbing his arm to tug him down the stairs so we could start walking towards school. Eddy turned around to look at me with a wide grin once we were outside. He began skipping ahead of me as I slowly strolled behind him with my hands stuffed in my pockets. I rolled my eyes as he began spinning in circles as he waited for me at a corner. The entire way to school, I kept on fidgeting and pulling on my shirt. Of course, I had worn Eddy's clothes before but I had never worn shirts this big to school before. I had worn baggy shirts before but anything that was more than a size bigger than mine just seemed uncomfortable to me. I had no idea how I would survive wearing the shirt for seven hours. I did not know how I would survive, period.

"Adrian! Stop. You look good. And if you even try to take off that eyeliner, so help me, I will beat the shit out of you. Don't think I won't. Now relax. Today will be okay," he smiled at me a split second after glaring into my eyes.

I hoped to God he was right.



It took one hour and twenty-seven seconds for me to see Nara Lee.

I had just walked into my Calculus class for second period. It was only 8:30 in the morning and I was already tempted to cause some serious physical harm to everyone who kept staring and whispering at me behind my back. I sat in my chair with my arms crossed and head down, avoiding everyone’s eyes and their voices as I put my headphones in my ears. My eyes closed in frustration as my head bobbed along with the music playing.

“Adrian? What happened, what’s wrong?” her voice asked.

I opened my eyes in disbelief before I glared at the hand she placed on my desk. I clenched my jaw before looking up at her. She was staring at me in concern and her hand grasped her necklace.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of dumbass question was that? You know what happened, you were there. You didn’t even do a damn thing to prevent either,” I hissed at her as I pulled one ear bud out of my ear.

“Adrian, that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Oh, really? You fucking smiled at them after. Tell me how exactly I’m supposed to see it.”

I stared into her eyes angrily as her own blue eyes gazed down sadly at mine. I scoffed before looking away and putting my other ear bud in my ear, completely blocking out all sound. Her hand slowly slid off my desk before she gently placed my notebook on my desk. I briefly glanced at it, barely remembering that I dropped it in front of her house, before looking away.

The entire period, I paid no attention to the teacher who was giving a lesson about something I already knew. Instead, I watched the golden locks completely cover the face of a certain girl. Her head was down and her hair acted as curtain that shielded her from this classroom. There was no sunshine coming into the class today. At one moment, I thought I saw her shoulder shake slightly, like she was crying. But after I blinked, she was only still and quiet. I licked my dry lips as I stared into her back. Before I could respond, she quickly lifted her head and turned to stare at me. My lips parted slightly as I stared into her blue eyes for a split second before I looked away and at the board. I saw her turn away in my peripheral vision. A small sigh escaped me as I slightly shook my head.

It took sixteen hours, forty-seven minutes, and fifteen seconds for me to feel absolutely defeated.