Your name is Dave Strider, and today is your birthday. Not that is was anything special. The most you got at home was a pat on the back from Bro before you were shoved out the door, and no one at school actually cared to know of the special day.
In fact, school seemed worse than normal.
To your peers, you were lower than garbage on the social scale. You were a freak, a loser. All because of a glitch in your DNA and a poor family. Despite how hard you desperately tried , the shades wouldn't hide your red-irised eyes and you were still getting free lunch thanks to the school board.
On a normal day-to-day basis, you were pushed and shoved out of the way and into lockers, hardly noticed by anyone except the occasional bully when they couldn't find anyone else weak enough to pick on. But today you were the main target for some reason. Beneath your shades you were nursing a black eye and a split lip just below. Your heart still ached with the hurt of the taunts.
Freak, wannabe, faggot.
Your heart was already torn with loneliness; you didn't want to deal with this today, the day you turned sixteen. Maybe, you think, today could be the day for something else. After all, what did you have to live for? Abusive peers and a neglectful brother? No thanks.
You decide that tonight is a perfect night to just end it all. Besides, you always thought it was cool when people died on their birthdays.
Now you dodge through the halls with a new objective in mind, renewed vigor in your step. You make it to your next class without any incident of strife, you think that maybe you're happy. But then you set your books down and collapse into your desk, fighting hard to keep the tears that have been building from spilling down your cheeks. You're about to lay your head down when you hear the scraping of a desk and a bang. You look up and see a boy with goofy buck teeth and outrageously messy black hair straightening his glasses from his place on the floor.
He glances up and notices you staring, a blush tints his face pink. "I f-fell." He stutters.
You nod. "Okay, no big deal."
The boy stands, straightening his blue t-shirt and khaki shorts, then scuttles over to you with his hand stretched out. "Hi, I'm John."
You eye the hand with an eyebrow raised until he lowers it, face flushing again.
"You new here?" You ask. You two are alone in the classroom for the moment; you were the first ones there.
John nods, apparently too nervous to speak anymore. It was actually pretty precious. "W-What's your na-name?"
"Dave." You say simply. People begin to file in one by one, giving the two of you funny looks. "Look, John." He brightens visibly at the use of his name. "You don't want to be seen talking to me. People don't exactly think I'm... cool."
The other boy frowns and shakes his head sadly. "Well, neither am I."
Something in your heart gives a painful pinch at that. This kid was cute as can be, how can you resist? "You wanna be friends or something?"
John looks up at you, visibly surprised. "Really?"
"Yeah, sure."
John grins, his eyes sparkle. "Yes! Do you wanna come over this afternoon? We can hang out!"
You don't think he'll want to be your friend once he realizes how much of a loser you actually are, but you find yourself nodding anyway. "Okay."
Maybe you can try killing yourself tomorrow.
When the end of the day comes you find John waiting for you by the front steps.
"Hi, Dave!" He says to you cheerfully, falling into step beside you. "Just follow me."
You do as he says, remaining quiet while he rattles on about anything and everything. You find yourself loving his voice more and more with every word. You ignore the feeling, it being something you're unused to, and just listen and nod. John seems satisfied with this and continues talking about all sorts of things. You learn that he's from Washington, likes salamanders and Nic Cage movies, and lives with his dad, plus enough other information to fill a book. 'Random Facts About John Egbert' is what it would be titled.
After a ten minute or so walk you arrive at the typical suburban home where John apparently lives. "Well, this is it. Haha."
You admire the home, so unlike the apartment complex in which you yourself live. "Cool."
John drags you inside, making a big show of bringing you into his room. "My humble abode." He called it.
The room isn't all that spectacular. It's adorned with shitty movie posters, then an average bed, dresser, and desk. Still, you give John a small nod of approval and he breaks into a grin.
You take a seat down on the bed and John sits next to you. It's silent for a moment until you look down and over and see the other boy biting his lip nervously.
"Yo, what's wrong?" You ask, tentatively laying a hand on his shoulder. You didn't deal well with emotions.
John glances up at you, he seems surprised. "Oh, uh, I just didn't really expect this. You coming over, I mean. No one really likes me."
That's surprising. The boy was too social to be so nervous. You tell him so.
"Yeah, haha." He scratches the back of his head. "People find me annoying."
You throw caution to the wind. "Well, today's my birthday, and I think being friends with you is a pretty cool present." You swallow down your nervousness. "I don't know if that helps."
John smiles again, smile even brighter if that was possible. "Gee, thanks! I think you're pretty cool too, Dave."
Something blossoms in the hollow shell of your chest and you find yourself smiling a little too. "Thanks. You're the only one."
John shakes his head. "I don't get why other people don't like you. I mean, other than you kind of look like an ass wearing sunglasses all the time."
"I wear them for a reason."
John looks unconvinced. "Oh, really?"
With a sigh you nod. Fuck it, you were already waist-deep in this shit. You yank off the sunglasses, revealing your mutated eyes.
"I- Oh." John stares for a moment; you feel uncomfortable so you slip the shades back on. "See? That's why no one likes me."
"I still like you." John says softly, causing you to look up. His hands come up to gently take hold of your sunglasses and pull them off. "I like your eyes too."
Your jaw drops a little at the first statement, but you manage to snap your mouth shut. "C-Cool." No, not cool. Your heart was thudding a mile-a-minute and your cheeks still tingled where John's fingertips had touched.
"Yeah..." John murmurs. He looks up at you through his glasses and soft lashes, then suddenly his soft pink lips are on yours. The kiss lasts little more than a second, and once again you're staring down at a pink and embarrassed John.
He stares down at his hands. "That's why no body likes me."
Oh, so he was gay. He was gay and- OH.
"Well," You say, gently grabbing his chin and turning his face up to look at you. "I still like you."