WARNING: This book does contain some sensitive/triggering topics/mature themes, although there will only be a few chapters like this. At the beginning of those types of chapters I will post warnings at the beginning that look like this:

"WARNING: This chapter contains mature themes/ triggering and/or sensitive topics, please proceed with caution."

Other than that, I hope you enjoy! Also, this book will be starting soon! There's a couple books I want to finish before I continue this one. Please be patient if you can, but feel free to leave your thoughts so far in the comments. :)

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"Kiss me like it doesn't matter, look at me like you're looking at a wall. Don't worry, I can take it,  I promise I'll be fine.

Treat me like I mean nothing to you because then maybe it would make this easier. Maybe, it would my break my heart a little less, maybe it would leave a smaller scar.

Maybe, it would make it easier to let you go."

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I  N  T  R  O  D  U  C  T  I  O  N

In high school, confidence is key, it's something you just have to have in order to fit in. And the people with the most confidence were the assholes, the douchebags, the ones who slept with anyone they could.

Which is exactly who Evan Fong was, the biggest player in his high school. Sleeping with almost every boy and girl in the entire school, he made quite a name for himself, yet he was still popular, and obviously single.

His friends? They couldn't be more different from him, obsessed with video games and pizza rather than parties and beer. Looking for a relationship rather than having a shit ton of one night stands. But they were still great friends, despite their many, many differences.

Evan loved his friends, they knew everything about him and he knew everything about them. They had a great friendship, as all friends should.

But there was one thing Evan had never told anybody, absolutely no one, not even his best friend.

And that was that he has had a huge crush on Jonathan Dennis since third grade.

Jonathan Dennis, not the most popular kid, hardly anyone knew his name, and his best friend is Luke Patterson. Evan had been Jonathan's science partner in third grade, and from that moment on he had been obsessed with him.

He was the whole reason Evan was who he was, because he knew that Jonathan would never like him back, so he forced himself to move on, to leave the illusion of getting together with his crush. But he didn't want a relationship, he couldn't possibly imagine having a relationship with anyone except Jonathan, so he slept with anyone he could, drinking countless beers at parties to stop regret from seeping in.

But one sleepover was all it would take to change everything......one sleepover was all it would take to finally get to him. Then what would happen to that confident, arrogant, and utterly stupid douchebag?

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With a quick glance at the double doors, noticing that they had just entered, he pulled him forward, pressing his lips to his, closing his eyes to make it more believable, his hood covering his face save for his eyelids, which the natural light hit perfectly.

He heard a gasp come from the person who entered, then after a few moments he heard rushed footsteps and the door close behind him. He forcefully pushed down the guilt that was rising in his chest.

He pulled away, and smirked at the person in front of him, whose eyes were wide in shock, tears brimming at the corners.

"W-why would you do that?" He said, hatred and pain filled his voice, his fists clenched at his sides.

"Because he's mine."

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"Evan! Please, let me explain......it wasn't my fault, you've got to believe me!" He was on his knees in front of his boyfriend, begging for forgiveness.

He shook his head, a tear falling down his cheek. "You're unbelievable, really. You just used your second chance! Why should I give you a third? You don't deserve it." He said angrily, turning away.

"Please Ev.....I-I love you." That was it, those were the only words he needed to hear. The words he didn't want to hear, the words that brought so many tears to his eyes, and caused so much emotion to flow through him because of how much they hurt.

Take it back, he thought to himself, pleading that he would take it back. He couldn't bear the burden of hearing those words one last time, because every time he heard them it was like dying, his heart felt like exploding and he was drowning in guilt. He quickly wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket as he felt a tear stroll down his cheek.

"I can't do this." He spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, his back still turned so he was faced away from his boyfriend.

"W-what? No, please stay with me....please I'm begging you!"

"I can't, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry....." He walked forward, away from the broken boy behind him, the boy who had not only stolen his heart, but tore it in half. Tears rushed to his eyes the further away he got, he couldn't do this, but he had to.

He pulled out his phone, an unsatisfactory feeling of victory in the pit of his stomach. He pressed Tyler's contact and sent him the message he had not been looking forward to.

Tyler, it's done. I won the bet.

But the bet seemed like the only thing he had won, because the rest of the world seemed lost to him now.

Because he had lost what he loved most.

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"I don't want this." He pushed against his chest, trying to squirm away.

The other boy gripped onto his shoulder tightly, keeping him in place. "Don't worry, I'll be quick."

He shut his eyes as their lips connected once again, trying not to focus on what was going to happen as he felt hands travel down his sides. They rested on the waistband of his jeans, he squirmed once again.

"Stop moving."

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Days have passed, his eyes have dulled, their spark lost. His feet dragged behind him, his friends couldn't make him speak. Not as much as he used to, that is.

He was fine, he had insisted, saying it so many times that he even believed it himself. But he lied, he always lied, he wasn't fine, but his friends just shrugged and believed him.

Because he was always fine, there had never been a time in his entire life when he was not fine, and as long as he wore that stupid smile, people would believe him. People like him were always fine.

He just wanted someone, anyone, to care, to stop and think that maybe, just for a single second, that he wasn't okay, that he needed help. But no one did, no one helped him. Because he was fine.

He couldn't take it anymore, it was too much for him. The guilt, the pain, everything, it consumed him like a tornado, spinning around him at the speed of light.

He stepped forward, cold rushed through his body for a few heartbeats, then it all went black. This is what peace felt like.

And the silence was like a dream.

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Don't believe that frown on his face, or the bags in the shadows of his bloodshot eyes, he's not tired, he's never tired. He gets the perfect amount of sleep every night. He won't pass out at a moment's notice.

Don't believe the absence of food in front of him during lunch, because he's not starving himself, he can eat whenever and whatever he wants. Push away those doubts about him.

Don't believe the pain in his voice, the strain that's clearly audible when he speaks, don't pay attention to the words he tiptoes around. The names that he can barely say, the ones that leave his breath stuck in his throat.

Ignore the flinches at small touches, at elbows brushing, at friendly hugs, at most human contact, really. Because he's fine.

Ignore the slouches, the suicidal comments, the disinterest, ignore it all, it's not even real. He's fine, he's not in pain, he's not suffering in anyway. Breakups don't affect him, nothing affects him.

Focus on his bright smile, get lost in his bright eyes.

Watch his eyes light up as he eats his favorite candy, shoving pieces into his mouth like it's popcorn.

Hear the excitement in his voice as he speaks about topics that interest him, as he slings his arm around his friend's shoulders, the smile that travels to his eyes.

That's what you should focus on, that's what he wants you to focus on. No bad things, only good things.

Fuckboys are fine.