(Mitchell's P.O.V.)

The one thing I hated about working in a bookstore was stacking books on the shelves. It was boring and irritating since the books had to be in put in a specific place or the cataloging of the whole store would be thrown off. Well, at least it didn't really require much thought process on my part, so that meant I was free to let my mind wander. One guess to where it went.

The purple notebook was still in my bag. I hadn't read another entry since lunch yesterday when Ellie had come to sit with me, but that didn't mean I didn't want to because I really did. There just hadn't been any time for me to today, and it was killing me. I wanted to read the next entry so bad that I had once again found it impossible to concentrate on much of anything else. I was still desperate to know more about the author, too, specifically if they were a boy or a girl.

The journal entries and writing style didn't really help much. There were places that it made it seem like a girl was writing, and then there were places where it seemed like a boy was. For example, it didn't seem like a girl could be writing it since whenever they talked about the boy they were in love with, it wasn't filled with a bunch of OMGs. A girl would have been more...um...girly. Yeah.

However, the author didn't seem like it was a boy since the handwriting was too pretty. Most boys wrote like chickens with ink on their talons. I knew I did. Then there was the fact that the writing style was just too poetic and beautiful. Most boys didn't think that way. Also, most boys didn't fall in love with other boys. And really, what were the chances of me finding a gay boy's journal?

But what if the author was a gay boy?

...No... That was more than unlikely. The author was probably a girl.

I finished stacking the books on the shelf and wandered back to the front of the shop. Maria was behind the counter, busy with a customer so I waited patiently near her until the customer walked away. She turned to me after she was done and smiled. I gave her a small one back.

"I'm done stacking the books," I told her. "Is there anything else you want me to do?"

Maria tapped her index finger to her chin in thought. "No," she finally said. "You can go home early today."

"Thanks Maria." I smiled at her again then grabbed my bag. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Mitchell," Maria said as I headed out the door, the bell ringing when I opened it.

As I walked down the sidewalk, I accidentally bumped into someone. I mumbled an apology but whoever it was kept walking, so I glanced over my shoulder and looked at them. He was looking back at me as well, as he walked, and his cat-like yellow eyes met mine. When he looked away, I realized that I vaguely recognized him. Before I could place where it was exactly that I had seen him before, however, my cell phone rang. I fished it out of my pocket and held it up to my ear.

"Hello?" I asked.

Cody's voice answered me, "Hey Mitch! How much longer until you get out of work?"

"I'm actually done, now. Why?" I said, and then I looked over my shoulder, in hopes of seeing the stranger again. He wasn't there.

"Oh...um... I'm over at Chris's house, playing video games, and I was just wondering-"

"If I could manage making my own dinner tonight? Yeah, sure," I told him, smiling a little. "You can stay over there and continue to kill brain cells."

"Aww! I love you little brother!" Cody said, chuckling a little. "Thank you! I'll see you later tonight. Bye!"

And the line went dead.

I put my cell back in my pocket with a sigh. When I looked back up, I was kind of surprised to see that I had wandered to the park while I had been talking to Cody. Since it was still early enough, though, and I wasn't that hungry yet, I decided to stay there for a little while. As I walked over to the merry-go-round, I took my bag off of my shoulder and reached my hand in it. I pulled out the purple notebook when I sat down, flipping to the next journal entry. Looking at it, my stomach pooled with that excited butterfly feeling and I smiled to myself as I started to read it.

October 6th

There he is-so perfect. And here I am-so pathetic.

Almost everyday I see him. I watch him while he works, sitting across the room so he doesn't notice me staring. I don't talk to him. Maybe if I could come up with some excuse I would, but I can't think of anything that doesn't seem completely ridiculous. And I'm scared. I'm scared of what he would think and what my father would do to me.

When I came home from school today, he was already home, sprawled out on the couch, drunk out of his mind. He was in one of his moods and, like always, decided to take it out on me.

H called me anything he could think of while he was that wasted while striking me across the face a few times. And while he was doing that to me, I found out the reason he was drinking his diner earlier than usual.

He had seen a couple walking down the street, holding hands and kissing...A gay couple.

It sets him off. He hates it. And the only reason for it is because his father left his mother for another man and his brother-my uncle Jack-turned out gay, too. He despises both of them for it. He thinks a man loving another man is disgusting. My father just doesn't understand that you can't choose who you fall in love with. But he's incapable of love so that's not that surprising.

I wonder what my father would do if he found out that his only son is what he hates so much. What would he do to me if he knew I was in love with another boy? Because I am. The one I'm watching right now as I write this.

He looks bored but still completely gorgeous as he sighs and holds his head up in his hand with his elbows on the counter. I wish I could talk to him, but I can't... This is the closest I can get to my flower-across the room from him, staring at him and wishing he was mine. Or that I at least had the courage to go up to talk to him. But I don't, and I doubt I ever will.

I stared down at the journal with an incredulous expression, my mouth opened slightly.

The author was a boy-a gay boy. I couldn't believe it.

The next morning, I was in my first period class daydreaming about the author of the journal. I hadn't been able to think much about anything else since last night. All my thoughts revolved around who he might be, what he might look like, and what would happen if I ever met him.

Or what if I already knew him? What if he was in this room with me, this exact moment? With that in mind, I pulled myself back to reality and looked around my science classroom, searching for anyone that struck me capable of writing the masterpiece that was the journal. I didn't see one person that even looked a little like they could have, though. What I did see, however was more interesting.

My teacher was standing in font of the room with a boy with long dark brown hair standing next to him. Mr. Simmons silenced the class and began to speak.

"This is Sunny Michaels," he said. "He transferred here from Sherman High School and I expect you to treat him with respect." Mr. Simmons glared at us until some of us nodded, but I was too busy staring at the new kid-Sunny-to really care.

I knew him. Well...I recognized him. I had seen him in Maria's bookstore a couple of times. Of course, it had always been from a distance, but I still knew it was him. The only thing was, was that I had never really gotten close enough to him at Maria's to actually notice how attractive he was.

Our eyes then met, and I saw the cat-like yellow eyes of the person I had accidentally walked into yesterday. Recognition passed across Sunny's face as well, telling me that he also knew me. There was something else in his expression too, but it was something I couldn't name. And once Mr. Simmons began talking again, Sunny looked away from me and back up at him.

"Take a seat next to Mitchell," Mr. Simmons told him.

"Who?" I barely heard him ask since his voice was like a supersonic whisper.

"Mitchell," Mr. Simmons repeated, pointing at me.

Sunny looked at me again, his eyes blinking in surprise and a small shy smile spread across his lips. He nodded his head slightly and walked over to the empty seat next to me.

He sat down, placing his bag at his feet and looking straight ahead as if he was avoiding looking at me. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, unable to believe that I have never really seen him until now. All those times at Maria's and I had never taken a good look at him. Thinking back on it now, he had been there a lot.

Sunny was simply breath taking. His hair was almost black, but not quite, and went down past the middle of his back. He had flawless porcelain skin that made his bright eyes stand out even more. Normally, I didn't bother with thinking about how cute other boys were because I knew it would have been a waste of time, but Sunny was just so stunning that I couldn't help it. I knew I was staring at him but I couldn't stop myself, even when he caught me.

Pink tinted his porcelain cheeks and he looked away. I blushed myself and tore my eyes away from him. A moment later, though, I realized he was looking at me again, and I had to turn to face him.

He gave me another shy smile and said in a very quiet and timid voice, "You work at Maria's bookstore."

"Yeah," I said in the same manner, giving him a smile as well. "I've seen you there."

Sunny's eyes widened considerably and he looked excited about something. He grinned at me and it wasn't like his shy smile. This was a real smile that showed me his unbelievably perfect and white teeth. I was rendered breathless, but that didn't keep me from wondering why me telling him that, had caused that reaction. I didn't ask him, though; I couldn't have even if I had wanted to. Sunny's smile not only made me unable to breath, but it also made me forget how to speak.

And it made me forget about the journal, as well as the mystery boy who wrote it, too.

I have the worst luck with Mp3 players, I really do. The screen went all white and bleh, and now I can't see anything on it. I don't know how to fix it and I don't have money to buy myself a new one. Fucker. I haven't even had this one for a year. The Mp3 player God hates me.

If you see any wrong spelling I apologize for it for not making it right. But maybe later I check it out if there is any.