I don't look up. I'm not dealing with this today.
Ok, let me get something straight.
I'm a boy. Eighth graders just have small imaginations. Also, just because my dad got into the newspaper for finding a huge fly, doesn't mean I care about bugs. Newspapers are seriously slacking on reporting interesting news.
"CJ, take your head of your desk." Mr. Dellow commands.
I roll my eyes, and sit up.
Class is almost over. Just five more minutes, and I can go see Will.
Who is Will? My boyfriend for over a year.
Well, first you should probaly know who I am.
My name is Collins Jack Solo, but I go by CJ. Deal with it. I'm in eighth grade. I have curly black hair, and light skin. The only pretty part of me are my eyes. They are blue with gold specks and beautiful. At least, that's what Will says. I don't really go and stare at myself in the mirror, so I go off what he says.
I'm an only child, but my parents are always out of the house. Lucky for them, I can't stand a messes, so it's always clean. I can play the drums, but Will is the only one who has heard.
Finally, the bell rings, and I go to my locker. The janitor couldn't scrub all of the spray paint off, so instead of saying BUG LOVER, it says, UG O ER. Splendid.
I open it, and drop my books inside. Two hands cover my eyes.
"Guess who?" A cherry voice says.
It's Will. Duh. Nobody else touches me. Also, he does this everyday.
"Dr. Phil." I guess, closing my locker.
"That boy with black hair I kissed this morning."
"Excuse me?" Will screeches, yanking me around to face him.
I laugh. "I'm kidding." Seriously, I would never cheat on Will.
"You better be." He warns, opening his locker, which is right by mine. (That's how we met.)
Will has light brown hair, and tan skin. He's well built, but hates sports. He's probaly one of the best looking boys in the school, and I still can't believe I'm dating him. He is super protective, but really chill otherwise. He's also the only person I like talking to.
"Ready to go?" He asks.
I nod. We're going to my house, like we do every day. It's close to the school. He has family issues, so he's over alot.
We get to the door, and I hear someone yell, "Hey, Bug Lover!"
I grab Will's hand and pull him out the door. If I didn't, he probaly would've gone and punched that person. I would appreciate it, but he doesn't need to get suspeneded because of me again.
"Come on, we're getting slushies." I tell him before he can start trying to go back. We get slushies a lot. It's weird, but he loves them.
We go to the gas station close to the school.
"This is the best slushie ever." He declares as we're walking to my house.
I shake my head. "Nope. Mine's better."
"I don't believe you." He tells me.
I shrug. "It is."
"Hmm." He says. Then, he leans over and kisses me.
"Your right." He decides "It is better."
"Why are you like this?" I ask.
He just grins. I roll my eyes at him, and sip more of my drink as we walk up to the front door.
I open the door, and we walk inside.
It's a one story house with four bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, a den, and a living room. I'm usaually in the kitchen, den, or my room. My dad own's his own bug buisness that I think is disgusting. He has his non-living things in his room. My mom is works several jobs far away and doesn't come home for weeks.
We go to the den, and sit on the couch. Will turns on the t.v, then closes his eyes, and puts his feet in my lap.
"Why'd you turn it on if you weren't gonna watch?" I ask, pressing the off button on the remote.
He thinks about it. "I don't know. It's too quiet here."
I'm very lucky Will knows I'm not trying to be rude to him. I'm just annoyed from all the bug jokes. But I don't want to talk abou that.
"Why are you upset?" He asks.
Dang it, Will.
"People suck and they should go live in a small box." I tell him. He finishes his drink, and reaches for mine.
He blinks. "Uh, okay? What does that mean?"
"That everybody thinks I'm my dad." I say.
"I don't get it."
I sigh. "Ever since everyone found out how much my dad loves bugs, they think I do too, and since eighth graders are so mature, I'm getting teased about it. Nobody care what I like. Bugs are disgusting. Why would I like them?"
He's quiet. "Do something to show people what you like."
"Like what? How would I do that?"
"Why don't you try out for the talent show? You could play the drums, and then people can talk about that instead."
He has a point. The talent show is on Friday, and it's not too late to sign up. But that would mean I have to play in front of a bunch of people. But it's to help me. Ughhhh. Choices are very annoying.
Will sighs loudly so that I can tell he wants me to say something. So, "Shut up a minute, I'm thinking."
"Technically, I didn't say anything!" He points out.
Technicalities. "Don't care. Shut up."
He waits for a moment, then says, "So?"
"Are you doing it or not?"
Am I? Should I? Would I?
"I think so?"
"When are you gonna practice?" He asks.
"Not when you're here."
He raises an eyebrow. "I'm always here." Very true.
"Not if I make you leave." I tell him.
He sticks out his bottom lip. "You wouldn't make me leave, right?"
"Hmmm. If you don't make me cookies I will." I decide.
"Fine. But you have to help."
"If you wear the apron."
The apron is my mom's. It's an ugly yellow, and Will hates it, even though he looks adorable in it.
"Fine." He says. "I'm hungry anyway."
"You just drank a large slushie." I remind him.
He hops up. "Yours too."
"Wait, what?" I shout, chasing him to the kitchen.
He just laughs.
I sign up the next day, ignoring people's "You have to have talent" jokes. Again, people suck.
Will helps me pick a song, then I practice it. I keep playing, not paying attention to anything else until Will gently takes the drum sticks from my hands.
I look up, and see he's holding a plate of lasgana. When did he have time to make that?
"You've been playing for two hours." He informs me. "Take a break and eat."
I slide onto the floor by him, and pick up the fork on the plate.
"Thanks, Will." I say before taking a bite. This is delicious.
He grins. "No problem."
"Was I really playing for two hours?" I can't believe that.
He nods. "Yeah. I said you name, like, twenty times. You didn't hear me."
"Huh. Sorry." I say. I take another bite. "How did you make this? This is amazing!"
He laughs. "It's actually really easy."
"You really love to cook, huh?" He cooks and bakes stuff all the time when he's here.
"Yeah," He says before taking a bite. "Dad doesn't love it though. He wants me to be a football player or something. I suck at sports. He just doesn't understand."
"He doesn't know you love to cook? Don't you ever cook at home?" I ask.
He shakes his head. "No, mom does. Apparently, only woman can cook."
"Thats dumb. Can you cook better then you mom?"
"Then you can definitly cook. Your dad just hasn't tasted your lasagana."
He laughs, and I grin.
When we finish, we watch a movie, and fall asleep on the couch.
The rest of the week goes by fast, and by Friday I think I'm ready.
"Come on, Will!" I yell. "We're gonna be late!"
We're not, I just want to be early.
"Jeeze, CJ, It's 6:30. It doesn't start till 7:00." He says.
I roll my eyes, and grab his hand, pulling him outside. "Yeah, well, I want to be early."
"Thirty minutes early?" He grumbles, pulling on a jacket.
We walk to the school, which takes about five minutes, and go to get the drums ready.
We're walking down the hallway, when I'm suddenly worried.
"Will, what if I mess up?" I ask. "And then everybody will see, and then -"
"Stop." Will interupts. ""Your going to do great. You've been practicing all week."
"Yeah, but what if-"
"Stop worrying. You'll be fine."
"Yeah, but if-"
"You've got this."
"Follow me." He says, turning to the front of the school. I do.
We get to the front office, and he points inside.
My parents are talking to the secretary.
I turn to Will, who is grinning.
"You got them here?" Do not cry.
"Yep. I told them I'm your best friend and wanted to suprise you, and it would mean alot to you if they we're here tonight." He says.
I'm still for a second, shocked. Then I give hug him, which something I never do.
"What's this for?" He asks, wrapping his arms around me.
Good question. "For you being you."
"Okay." He says, pulling me closer. "Are you crying?"
"No." I sniff. "It's allergies, shut up."
After a second we break apart, and go into the office. My parents turn, and grin.
I'm a mixture of my parents. My mom has long curly brown hair, and light skin. She's tall, and I have her blue eyes.
My dad has curly black hair and tanned skin. He's built, but, like Will, hates sports. He has glasses over his light brown eyes.
They come up and hug me, and I let them. I don't know the last time I saw them, and I thought I'd be mad when I saw them, but I'm not. Not at all.
When they move away, the smile at me.
"We are so proud of you, CJ." My mom says.
Dad nods. "I'm glad we're able to come. I can't wait! I didn't even know you played the drums."
"We know we haven't been around much, and we're going to work on that." Mom tells me. "I found a job close to here that pays well. I'll be home more."
"Really?" I ask. Really?
She nods. "Yes. I start Monday."
I'm about to say something else, when a voice on the intercom says, "All participating in the talent show, please go to the auditorium. We start in five minutes."
I wave to them, and turn to go to the auditorium, when "We love you, CJ" I hear my dad say.
I turn, grin, and say, "I love you guys, too."