-aaron-

I remember the first day I laid eyes on him.

It was my first day at the school, in the middle of November. By then I knew everyone would know each other and have their own little cliques, so I didn't bother making friends. In fact, after what happened with my dad I hated most people. I learned that fear was my friend when the world was my enemy. I was fueled by anger. People would walk past me with uncertainty, and all I could hear were whispers of tumors surrounding me.

I remember walking into class that first day, towering above everyone. Right from the start people stared at me with judging looks, but some had curiosity. Eyes trying to get inside my head. Everyone stopped doing what they were doing and looked at me, whether it be jealous guys or gawking girls.

Everyone except one person.

This one person in the back, he didn't even flinch. In fact, I doubt he even cared. Pale skin, black hair swooping over one eye, sharp features, a thin, short build and eyes so icy you'd mistake them for winter. He took my breath away at that very moment, and he didn't give it back either.

I noticed the only empty desk in the room happened to be next to him and quickly strode towards it. As soon as I set my stuff down, I remember loosing all words, like a black hole sucked them away from me.

He reminded me of an emo Dan Howell.

I tried to talk to him all week, I really did. The thing is, my constant yapping started to get him so fed up he eventually spent half the period "in the bathroom." When he approached me after class, his mouth covered by his mask and eyes cast away, I lost my words again and stood awkwardly.

"Sorry, I guess." He mumbled. I was taken aback.

"Huh? Sorry for what?" I asked, trying to keep my cool.

"Sorry for being rude." He said with an annoyed tone.

"Well...okay then?" Awkward silence drifted between us, before I spoke again.

"So we cool then?" Instead of answering me, he sighed.

"You know...you've been trying to talk to me the entire time but you don't even know my name."

"Well, you don't know mine either."

"Aaron." He answered, maybe a bit too quickly. I frowned.

"And...my name is Zane. Zane Ro'Meave."

After that, it was hard to imagine the two of us apart from each other. Rarely did we never talk, and when we did converse it would be about anything possible. Most conversations would start and never stop, even if we had class. But we weren't best friends. I'd never talk to Zane outside of school, and he'd always pretend he wouldn't know me. I never did know why.

I also couldn't figure out why Zane was constantly on my mind. Then I began to question my own sexuality.

Did I have a crush on him? Was I gay or bi or straight? Was that what having a friend was like? I didn't know; I never experienced any of those questions to know their answers.

What if I kissed him? Would it feel right?

Every day that passed, I always caught myself staring at him even more and more. Sometimes Zane would give me a look, other times he wouldn't notice. I realized that he never liked to go anywhere without his mask on. He had a mole right under his chin that he would itch subconsciously when he was thinking. And he got frustrated really easily.

One day after class, I found that Zane was walking faster and with his head down, passing the math classroom without hesitation. I followed him, not questioning Zane's motives.

Instead, he strode briskly out to the soccer field, into the forest where no one could see him or I inside the foliage.

I'd had enough by then. "Zane, what are you doing?" I demanded, grabbing his thin shoulder. He didn't move. I spun Zane around, grabbing his other shoulder and staring at him in the eye. His single winter-colored eye.

And then something came that I never couldn't expected.

I felt his lips on mine, slowly and hesitant. His lips were surprisingly warm, warmer than I'd expect.

The kiss was quick. He pulled away abruptly, turning his head to hide a rosy blush. I blinked, shocked into a daze. What the heck was that?

"I was seeing if I liked guys..." He trailed off, crossing his arms as his face got even brighter. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't cute.

"Does that mean you like me?" I asked blandly. Zane flinched.

Then he slowly nodded.

And shook his head at the same time.

"I-I don't really know? I'm confused, but I think I do." He bit his lip.

"Well..." I scratched the back of my head, "I think I'm falling for you."

And now here we stood.

Across from each other.

Standing on different sides.

Thoughts racing, palms sweaty, fear in both of our hearts.

You don't show it, but I can feel my legs shaking.

You start to walk towards me with a twisted face. Anger, satisfaction, and a bit of resentment in your eyes. Except they aren't icy like a soft winter snowfall, they're like a blizzard now. A storm of mixed emotions.

And through these feelings you still want to kill me.

What did I do to make you hate me?

What did you do to make me hate you?

We shouldn't be here, right now, doing this.

So why has this happened?

Why do we both hold knives to each other's necks, knowing only one can live?

Zane, what happened to us?