The Ultimate Fantasy with your possibly GBF
Plot: This is my story about what I would like to happen with me and one of my best friends who could possibly be attracted to the opposite sex. I still love him; of course it's just a fanatical scenario and probably won't ever happen in real life. Don't judge, because most people do have fantasies. I liked him for a year and this is a fanfic about something fun I thought of to happen between us. I am changing his name and mine to protect our privacy. And yes, in real life, he actually is obsessed with Lady GaGa, and the other facts about him are true too (like what he wears, and likes, and he's a 4.0 student, etc.) except a few tweaks. Just please rate and review. This is my first story, so please be nice! Yes I know I make smiley faces a lot. Lol Enjoy and no mean comments! This is a one-shot, but if you like it and want more, I'll see what I can do.
My POV:
It was an ordinary Tuesday afternoon and as soon as the bell rang to get out of our dreary high school, I would be heading home on the bus with one of my best friends Bill Johnson. Our honors English teacher yelled out the homework assignment as soon as the clock struck 2:14. I turned behind in my seat as I stood up, smirking at Bill. He was wearing his flamboyant purple plaid jacket and a dark T-shirt with some graphic design on it and jeans. His blue-green eyes pierced my brown ones as he looked at me and grinned adorably. His short dark brown hair was swept neatly off his forehead, and he swung his backpack over his shoulder. I followed him close behind as we reached the bus. :p Yuck! I hate school buses, but I managed to find a seat by him and we listened to his iPod the whole ride to his house. His parents met me for the first time greeting me, and then we went down in his basement to start our homework. His basement is like his sanctuary. He loves spending time in there. We made small talk for a few minutes babbling about how stupid essays were and how much we despised homework. We finally got to work, and after a second Bill glanced up at me and smiled. "How about we make this a bit more fun?" he asked getting up and blasting his stereo. I giggled and rolled my eyes as Bad Romance by Lady GaGa busted through the basement. I knew of Bill's infatuation with her. Well, more of an obsession. He actually went through the trouble of making his own disco stick, although he never brought it to school, because apparently it was too big to fit in his backpack. I heard him start to hum as he finished his essay tapping his pencil against the binder he was writing his paper on. He was a 4.0 student and wore glasses in class sometimes, which I found sexy on him. He had them on right now and I bit my lower lip enjoying watching him in progress. I finished my rough draft, but Bill, being the silly little perfectionist he is, would most likely spend a couple of hours just drafting it. I shook my head, grinning. Then, I got up and started dancing terribly (I naturally am a horrible off-beat dancer ahaha.) Bill pressed his lips together to stop himself from laughing, but a giggle escaped him. He tried to re-focus on his essay. I danced over to him, and grabbed his wrists. "Come on, Bill! Dance with me!" I exclaimed. I didn't give him a chance to protest as I pulled him off the couch and his homework fell to the floor. "Show me your moves, Billy! Everyone says you can dance, but I haven't seen it," I pouted. I had to beg for a few minutes until he finally agreed. He shook and shimmied and swayed his hips, and even threw in a couple of Michael Jackson's choreography. I was impressed. "You're amazing!" I gasped. He chuckled. "I'm okay," he shrugged. "Take a compliment, silly boy," I teased as LoveGame started playing from the stereo. I started mouthing the words to him joking around. "Let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I want to take a ride on your disco stick." And then I sang for real: "Let's play a lovegame, play a lovegame, do you want love or you want fame, are in the game? Dans the lovegame." Bill smiled hugely and seemed to get into the beat too. He began to sing for the first time I've ever heard him: "Let's play a lovegame, play a lovegame, do you want love or you want fame, are you in the game? Dans the lovegame." "Hey, not bad!" I complimented. "Thanks," he chortled. "There you go, finally accepting someone telling you something good about yourself," I kidded. He laughed again. After a few hours of dancing and singing, and having loads of fun, I was nervous and wanted to get up the nerve to ask him something that could possibly affect our friendship…