Arthur gritted his teeth at the sound of his father's laugh and sighed when his mother told him to pass the salad. He didn't mind sitting at the diner table with his parents most nights, in fact he quite enjoyed being with them when they were available. So, what caused Arthur's bitter mood that evening? The answer sat right across from him at the dining room table. Alfred F. Jones, brilliant smile and all.
How did I end up getting in this mess? Oh, that's right my mother invited him.
Arthur frowned at his partly eaten hamburger. When his father's voice caught his attention.
"Alfred, you seem like the type of boy who plays sports, am I correct?" Arthur could almost feel his father's eyes on him. Alfred chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, completely oblivious to the silent messages being sent toward Arthur from his father.
"Yeah, I usually play football, but since the seasons over I'm playing the good ol' all American pastime, baseball,"
Arthur snorted.
"I wouldn't have guessed," Arthur's curt remark caused the room to fall silent. Arthur looked up from his plate confused, searching his parents annoyed faces. Then turning to Alfred.
Alfred's face had turned red and he was fidgeting a bit, trying to avoid eye contact with Arthur. Arthur's father cleared his throat.
"Well Arthur, I think you could learn from Alfred's example. Actually, you should try out for baseball, all your brothers played sports in school," Arthur's father casually said. Something in Arthur snapped. However, he knew better. That tone of voice meant that he had absolutely no say in the matter.
"How am I even going to play? I don't even know the rules of the damn sport," Arthur whined to his father
"The sport is similar to cricket, so it won't be that different, right Alfred?"
"Dude, you should totally try out! I don't know what crickets have to do with it but whatever floats your boat! I guess," Alfred blurted out, causing Arthur to smack his own forehead.
This boy must be an idiot.
"Mum, may I please be excused? I can feel a headache coming on." Arthur asked, standing up before she even had a chance to reply. He could hear her tell Alfred if he wanted he was also excused, but Arthur really didn't care what Alfred did at that moment. All Arthur cared about right then, was getting as far away from his father as could.
Before Arthur even realized it he was on his bed curled into his pillow.
Why does he expect me to be just like them? Baseball? For God's sake, he knows I was never any good at sports. I'm not my brothers, I never will be.
Arthur was pulled out of his thoughts by Alfred's footsteps coming up the stairs.
"Look I have a massive headache at the moment so if you wouldn't mind being a little more quiet," Arthur felt a ping of guilt, for lying to Alfred.
"Sure, but I think I'm going to head home now. I just wanted to say; sorry for letting that ball hit you in the head, again. So, I guess I'll see ya around…"Arthur could hear the disappointment in Alfred's voice However, Arthur couldn't bring himself to look at The American. Instead, he just buried his face in his pillow and listened to Alfred's footsteps as they faded away.
That night Arthur couldn't shake the felling that he had said something wrong to Alfred. He kept replaying that evening's events over and over in his head, but soon after thinking of the obnoxious American boy, he started to think of Alfred's smile that complemented his Safire blue eyes so well and how his body wasn't overly muscular, but well toned. Actually, he found Alfred quite attractive. Arthur had realized his own thoughts, causing himself to blush and roll over on to his back.
"What am I thinking? I must be going mad!" Arthur sighed to himself and sat up, wincing at the slight echo of pain from his head.
A light from outside suddenly caught Arthur's attention; he tried to ignore it but then remembered who's house was across the street. Curiosity overtook the Brit, and he sucked in a large breath before crossing the room.
Arthur smiled at the scene outside his window. Alfred sat at a desk placed in front of the large window of his bed room; he seemed to be concentrated on something important. Then, there was a small glimmer in front of the American's right eye. Squinting to see what the source of the light was Arthur realized Alfred was wearing a pair of wire framed glasses. Arthur chuckled and continued to observe Alfred.
Those glasses somehow suit him.
Alfred smiled sitting back in his seat and then brought up a book in front of his face. Arthur frowned; slightly disappointed he wasn't able to study Alfred's face any longer. The Brit had the urge to walk across the street and swat the book away from Alfred's face, but instead Arthur tried to make out the colorful cover of Alfred's book. Arthur smacked his forehead for the second time due to Alfred related situations. However, instead of walking away in frustration or frowning in disappointment, Arthur burst out in a fit of laughter.
Leave it to that boy, to make a comic book seem like an important matter.
Unfortunately, when Arthur finally calmed down and looked back at Alfred's window, Arthur's eyes met Alfred's blue ones. Arthur froze in place and could feel the color in his face drain. The two continued to stare at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Luckily, Alfred's door swung open causing him to jump and break eye contact. Arthur took this chance to hide behind his dark green curtains.
The Brit clutched his shirt over his chest to help calm his fluttering heart. Then peaked behind the curtain and watched Alfred close his curtains.
"Arthur, I believe you have gone completely mad," Arthur sighed with a smile playing on his lips and closed his own curtains for the night.