(Working title)

Was this what love felt like? What I felt when he hugged him, all the rage and jealousy I felt. Was it just because I hated him and were best friends with the other or was it something more?


Jay had been my best friend for ages, ever since we were five at primary school together. We had been paired for an activity the first day and had been friends ever since. Well, I guess we were supposed to be friends as the activity we did was a confidence in talking to new people and making friends. We hadn’t left each other’s sides since. We did almost everything together along with Jack and Eva.

We had collected Eva and Jack as our friends when we started secondary school. They were the two outsiders so we had talked to them, let them join in our games of Bulldog and eventually, they began to hang out with us at lunchtimes and break.

They had all known I was bisexual from almost the beginning. My knowledge in fashion and skip sort of jog gave me away in PE and at the weekends when we would meet up.

I cursed my amazing-ness.

But now we were all fourteen and in Year Nine at school. School had been okay for me. Not the greatest, I mean, its school, it’s impossible for it to be great; it was rather boring actually. Being near to the best in almost every subject (except PE, but come on, PE, when was I ever going to use that when I’m a rich doctor? Well, I might need to run to a patient sometime...) and so all the teachers loved me... naturally.

Anyway, back to my feelings.

Jay changed when he turned fourteen. He had his hair cut: shaved at the sides, and a sort of Mohawk down the middle with parts died different colours. This, of course, was against the school rules, as if hair could stop people from learning. He also changed his clothes. Every Saturday we, me, Jay, Eva and Jack would meet up at one of ours. There was no particular reason to this tradition. It just happened one sunny afternoon and kept happening. But that Saturday he wasn’t wearing his usual hoodie and jeans but black skinny jeans, something he swore he would never wear, ever, and a t-shirt which looked as if a normal black t-shirt had been splattered all over with different coloured paints. Even I had to admit, he looked good.  

He had actually looked better than I had ever seen him. The hair and clothes suited him better than I ever thought things like that could. He looked as some people would call slightly dark if not slightly emo in this new look. But his personality didn’t change one bit. He was still the stupid, funny, awesome guy I knew, he just accessorized better.

The End

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