I have been in love with Yuugi Mouto since Sophomore year.

At first, it was nothing.

Just my male body and high testosterone levels reacting to his wide lilac eyes and cherubic face.

But, over time, I grew to cherish our brief moments of eye contact, and the fleeting smiles that would ensue.

I didn't comprehend what I was actually feeling until the end of Junior year – at prom.

I was sharing the last dance with my date when I caught a glimpse of Yuugi out of the corner of my eye.

He was sitting at one of the tables with his own date; just laughing and talking.

That was the first time I felt the true tendrils of jealousy.

A burning flare of envy.

It was that night that I knew I was in love with him.

And, looking back, I realized that I had been for a while.

And now, as we are both entering our last year of high school, I fear that I will never summon up the courage I need to speak to him.

"Hey, so I was thinkin'."

My best friend's words snap me back to the present.

Back to our spot under the large oak tree, where we are both sitting for lunch.

"This year we should get shirts, y'know?" Jou tells me, between bites of his sandwich. "For our fans to wear."

"Fans?" I repeat.

"Yeah," he says. "We could put our names on them, too. Pass them out." He elbows me in the ribs, childishly. "Maybe you can get Yuugi to wear yours."

I scowl at his wink. "Don't make me regret telling you about him."

"Ha," he scoffs. "Like I didn't already know. I was just waitin' for you to admit it." He swallows the last bite of his lunch and flashes me a grin. "You can't slip anythin' by me, Temy."

"Hm," is all I say, while picking at a piece of grass.

"Seriously, did you think I wouldn't know? I know everythin' bout you."

At that, I pull the stubble out, root and all.

"You sure do," I tell him.

~O~

It's nearing the end of the second day of classes.

For my last period of the day, I had dropped a History class, in exchange for an Art one.

And as luck, or the devil, would have it, Yuugi is in it as well.

There are only ten students in the class, including me and him.

And, even though there is a girl sitting in-between us, I can still see the purple paint strokes he's making on the sheet on his easel, as he slides his brush against it.

I stare at my own blank masterpiece.

I don't know what to paint.

Red, I think to myself.

I'll start with red.

~O~

"Isis."

My sister looks at me in the reflection of her mirror.

"Yes, Atem?" She says, finishing her make-up. "How can I help you?"

I shift my body so that I am leaning against her doorframe.

"I just…"

At the tone of my voice, she stops what she's doing.

She turns in her chair to stare at me, letting me know that I have her undivided attention.

"I just wanted to thank you," I tell her, "for coming back home…"

The smile she gives me is small but sincere.

"Atem," she says, quietly. "Of course I came home. I needed to make sure you and mom were okay. I know it hasn't been easy with Shian gone."

That's his name.

My dad's name.

Not hers.

We have different fathers.

And, for that, I'm grateful.

"You are okay, right?" she asks in response to my silence.

I offer her a tiny smile. "Peachy."

"Listen," she says, standing up. "I know things have been rough these past few months. But they will get easier."

She's next to me now, tucking a stray bang behind my ear.

"I promise," she tells me.

I close my eyes at the pending lie.

"Thanks, Isis," I sigh. "I'm gonna go check on mom."

"Okay."

I feel her hand on my arm, as I turn to leave.

"And Atem," she says, serious, "if you need to talk, I'm here for you."

I try not to flinch at the kiss she places on my forehead.

"I know," I reply.

When she lets me leave, I walk towards my mother's room.

But, for some reason, I'm shaking.

I don't even notice it, until I raise my hand to knock on the bedroom door.

One second.

Two seconds.

Three.

Then, four.

I lower my hand back down to my side.

I turn around and march down the stairs.

I walk into the kitchen.