"Alright guys, we have a few minutes before the bell and if I let you leave a bit early just remember your promise to keep quiet down the halls!" Miss. Davies said as she packed up her things. I was not paying much attention to what she had said, but instead took a cue from the rest of the class as they left the room. Being the last student to leave, Miss. Davies couldn't help but notice that I was not as astute as usual. "Got something on your mind, Con?". Miss. Davies was by far one of my favorite teachers, and being in my junior year of high school there was a long list. Her hair was blond and shoulder-length and she was in good shape for someone a few years away from retiring. She played national softball when she was younger and served as a scout for some of the Ivy League schools when she wasn't in the classroom. She was a picture of strength and independence and one could not help but admire the life she had. "We have our first volleyball tryout today, and nerves are starting to get the best of me". "Connor, I know you love the sport more than life itself, so just give it your best and I know you'll blow them all away!" My name is Connor Peck, and as I mentioned before, I'm in my junior year at Mayfield High. I'm 6ft, 185lbs and playing volleyball over the last few years has helped me define my physique. Playing at a camp before school started helped give me a bit of a tan on top of it all. My best friend, Sam once said that my blue eyes and rosy cheeks made her take notice of me when we were in junior high. My look was a cross between a Californian surfer and now that I had just gotten my hair cut short and messed it up, a preppy from the Hamptons. I smiled and gave Miss. Davies a squeeze on the arm before I left and made my way towards the locker room to get changed. After walking down the hall I entered the room and dropped my bag on a bench before having a seat. I took a few nervous breaths as I took off my shirt and began to change. I soon began pulling up my knee pads and fastened the last strap on my ankle brace when I heard: "Good luck with the tryout Con!" I immediately looked to the right of me to find Eric. Eric Webb was a senior, captain of the cross-country and track teams and in my kinesiology class with Miss. Davies. Despite the fact that we were both considered popular, we hadn't really known each other because we were apart of crowds of different age groups. I hung out with the juniors and he with the seniors, and our paths surprisingly had not crossed until now. "How'd you." I asked while smiling as coyly as possibly. "I watched a few of your games last year and took notice of how comfortable you seemed on the court. Well, that and the fact that your name was on the signup list outside the phys. Ed office" He replied without letting me finish, as though he knew what I was thinking. His dark brown hair was short and allowed his chiseled yet smooth face open for all to revel. His rosy cheeks matched his full lips and his eyes were as brown and dark as oak. Standing at 6"1, this boy was beautiful beyond belief and his smooth lithe body was well defined from running. He smiled. And I back at him. "Thanks!" was all I could muster out as my heart began to quicken pace, and I packed my things as quickly yet coyly as possible. I raced into the gym before I could say something absurdly stupid and get even more flustered. Let me explain, I have known that I was gay for as long as I could remember, and have admired Eric since ninth grade when I saw him leading a group of runners past my house. At the time, I was stretching on the front lawn for a run of my own, and we made eye contact for just a moment. I hadn't ever considered pursuing my feelings, bearing in mind that gay teenagers hardly fit the mold of a fairytale romance. I couldn't help but think about what Eric had said. Had he actually watched a game of mine? I had a hard enough time getting Sam to watch a match with any degree of interest. And why would Mayfield's top runner be taking notice of the volleyball signup sheet? I ignored my thoughts long enough to focus on the task at hand. I have been on the volleyball team for a few years now, but tryouts still seem like there's a reunion for all the butterflies in my stomach. Packing up the nets at the end of practice, I couldn't help but ask Coach Armstrong about my performance. "Some tough competition this year, but I doubt you have anything to worry about!" He said, punching me on the shoulder. What a sigh of relief! "Yeah, no need to worry!" Said a voice from behind that seems eerily familiar to the one I had been analyzing a few hours before. I turned around to find Eric glowing after his run. Behind him stood Coach Jennings, the cross-country coach. "Hey sport, back sooner than I expected! With you leading the team we have a good shot at winning the state title!" He said, tousling Eric's hair before leaving the gym. "Hey Con, you left the locker room in a rush and left this behind." He pulled out my school planner from his gym bag and handed it to me. I grabbed it, being sure to make contact with his hand. "Thanks again!" I said. "No problem, I guess I'll see you in class then." He replied as he began jogging in the same direction Coach Jennings went a few moments before. Standing there for a moment, I said to myself: "I don't remember Eric watching the tryout!" "Yeah, he was doing his cool-down for the last little while. Funny thing it was, I noticed him watching any time you were up doing a skill, but go back to stretching once you finished. I didn't know you two were friends." Coach Armstrong packed up the net, locked the storage room and asked if I needed a lift home. "No thanks Coach, I have the car here." We walked to the parking lot and into our cars and honked to one another as if to say "goodbye". The ride was short, even though I seemed to replay my interactions with Eric innumerable times over in my head. When I got home, I had some dinner and went up to my room to rest. I stared at my planner for it gained immense value since being in the possession of the boy of my dreams (and not all of them being dry ones at that!). I needed the phone number of a girl in my geography class, so I could find out about the homework due the next day. I suppose nerves from the volleyball tryout made me inattentive in all of my classes. I flipped through the book and when I turned to the contacts page, I noticed something interesting. In bright red pen it said: "Eric, 555-2396. Maybe you can tell me more about tryouts!" With that, I was in a state of utter disbelief. How could this be happening? Is this even what I think it is? I had no inkling about Eric being anything other than a complete hetero, and these things just don't happen. I tried not to make the situation anything more than it was, and convince myself that he was only interested in getting tutored in Miss. Davies' class. It could be the fact that I couldn't contain my excitement or maybe the realization that Eric was an honour student, but the convincing seemed unsuccessful. Being semi-hard for hours afterward, I went to bed with pleasant dreams of volleyball, and Eric.
The next day I curbed my excitement and drove to school a bit early to finish off the geography work I ignored from the night before. I wore some dark denim jeans, cuffed at the bottom and totally ass-hugging with a black hooded sweater that showed off my chest a little. My sneakers were cute and worked well with the black cuff around my wrist. I had to admit that I looked hot, and it wasn't by coincidence either. Finishing off labeling a map of Europe for geography, I had just enough time to throw my volleyball attire in my locker before class. "Did someone forget to tell me it was prom?" "Hardly, this old thing?!" I said, oozing with sarcasm. There was Sam. Her dark brown hair shone and was twisted atop of her head. In a pair of blue jeans and a cute sweater that matched her trainers, she was the epitome of style. Ever since I could remember, the kids around wanted to be just like her. Beautiful from head to toe, tall and thin and top of the class without ever trying. She gave me a hug from behind and smacked my rear ever so hard, like she always did, and walked down the hall to her first class. The bell rang. I had also seemed to misplace my copy of Romeo and Juliet in the chaos of my locker. The halls emptied and I was still muddling around in the mess when I found it with a "Phew!" of relief. "It's sad that so much misunderstanding would cause such heartache and cause them to kill themselves" Said a voice from behind. Not paying too much attention to who it was, I just assumed it was Sam who had come back to collect me so we could go to English, and had taken this opportunity to spoil the ending of the play. "You little know-it-all! Thanks for ruining the play!" I said pretending to be upset. I turned around to see Eric standing there with a cute little smirk on his face. "My mistake!" he said. "Oh! Sorry I thought you were..." "...someone else?" "Yeah." "So do you have practice today?" he asked. "Well, I have to check the list to see if I made the team, if so, then `yes!'" "Don't bother, you already did! I checked it on my way here." "Really? That's such good news" I said, with the largest smile plastered on my face. "Yeah, but don't be so surprised, I knew you would." He then smacked me on the rear the way Sam had done so a few minutes before and hustled down the hall in the same manner as she. I quickly closed up my locker, swung my bag over my shoulder and headed after him. "Eric! Wait!" I caught up to him and got his attention. I hadn't thought of what to say to show my appreciation and when it came time for me to say it, all I could muscle out was: "Thanks.again." "Hey, what are you doing tonight?" He asked. "Frankly, nothing!" "Did you maybe want to hang out? I promised my older brother I would go to a foreign film with him and his friends from college. I'd like you to come with, I mean I don't want to sit there with people I don't know and be totally uncomfortable." "Sounds like fun, sort of." "My thoughts exactly. Well, you now have my number, so call me." I nodded with a smile on my face, being so utterly transparent about my feelings for this boy. He then looked around to see that the halls were clear, reached his arm out and pulled me closer to him by the waist. He leaned in and pecked me with his soft lips on mine, loosened his grip and hustled down the hall toward his class. I could not believe it, the most beautiful boy in school just invited me out, and put his lips to mine. It took the rest of the school day to take in the reality of the situation.