I sigh as everyone chatters around me, clad in new clothes and shiny shoes and exchanging stories about who did what over the recently finished summer break. I can feel the odd glance burn through my skull. I'm the kid that's had the same bag since year eight, who doesn't look people in the eye and say "Hello". I'm the kid who stares at the ground, hoping that people don't recognise me because I'm the kid that's different. It doesn't help that I ended up being late to form today, but I'd rather be a little late than have Frosch try and find student support by himself; he has no sense of direction. I place a hand to the back of my head, checking if my ponytail is still in place. My movement attracts some attention from across the room. I look to find a blonde boy with indigo eyes staring right at me. His average-height-leanly-muscular build is covered by a tight t-shirt, skinny jeans and a hoodie rimmed with faux fur. His face is slim and pointed and his features fit him perfectly. He has a diamond earring hanging from his ear that catches the light just so. He's cute. Very, very cute. My heart is beating like crazy; he's beautiful. I realise that I'm staring and I'm almost certain that he can tell. I look back down and tell my brain to shut up. My homosexuality is the reason why I left my last school. If word gets out... I can't move again. I can't put my mother and Frosch through all of that again. I have to stay quiet. I bury my head in my hands. I have to make this work out. I have to just blend in and act like a shadow. Suddenly, I feel pressure on my shoulder.
"Hey, are you okay?" I look up and see the blonde boy by my side. He looks even better up close. I can feel my heart going even faster than before. My eye catches his and he smiles at me and he looks like an angel.
"Y-Yeah." I stutter before I can faint, "S-Sorry."
"Don't apologise." The boy replies before sitting next to me. "What's your name?"
I actually couldn't believe myself. I think that my heart's going to explode here and now.
"R-Rogue." I choke out, "Rogue Cheney."
"Sting Eucliffe," The boy, Sting, holds out his hand; "Pleasure to meet you."
"Y-You too." I stutter, feeling myself blush. I grab his hand, and the contact sends me to cloud nine. Our hands fit perfectly together, and we both seem to hold on a little too long. I pull away, definitely blushing. I hope he doesn't notice. We sit in awkward silence for a bit, not daring to look the other in the eye. I know that this is bad. I want to get to know this boy.
"U-Um..." I feel frantic. All I can think to say is "I want you inside me" and that would not be the greatest conversation starter. "What do you have first lesson?"
Sting looks at his timetable and sighs.
"I've got English. You won't be in my class, though, I'm pretty dumb."
"I doubt that." I reply, before looking at my timetable and finding I have the same thing. I show him and he looks surprised.
"How are you in all the same sets as me? I must be the dumbest kid in school!"
"School has never really been a priority for me." I reply. It's not a lie, ever since my mother got diagnosed six years ago, she and Fro have been top of my list.
Sting shows he understands, but doesn't press me for more. Yet another attractive quality. He looks again at his timetable.
"Looks like we got a new teacher for English." He says, mostly to himself. He looks up at me, "If there's no seating plan, do you, ya know, want to sit with me?" He blushes as he speaks and scratches the back of his neck. He's so adorable. If I didn't know better, I'd say I'm in love.
"Y-Yeah," I reply in kind, "I'd love that." Sting smiles again, and I can't help but return it.
Suddenly, the bell rings and Sting escorts me to English class. As we walk down a corridor, the crowd gets really heavy; Sting offers his arm and I grab it. We stay hand in hand until we reach the class, not even letting go when the crowds thin out.

I am so in love.