(unedited) 

The first opinion that I had formed about Brady was that he was fucken annoying.

Constantly going on and on about everything, like he enjoyed the sound of his own voice. Question after question he interrogated me. "Where you from, New York? How old are you, you must be my age? What's up with all the tattoos? Is Art your real name, it is a strange name."

And if he was not asking questions he was going on about movies I had never seen or books I had never heard of. He quoted Star Trek and spoke of comic books; always comic books. The topic of comic books made his hazel-green eyes light up in excitement as he went onto the subject of his favourite comic. Which was,

"Superman vs. Muhammad Ali, it's way better than the superboy comics," Brady spoke from the driver's seat; all his attention on the road ahead, knowing the route to school like the back of his hand. The curls of his hair standing on end as he pushed his large frame glasses up his petite nose.

He was very passionate I would give him that.

"Do you like comics?" Brady asked, sparing me a glance from the corner of his eye behind his spectacles.

My only reply that of a mere shrug.

But it was all he needed to go onto another tangent, "I thought so because you called them children's books and well they're not, they're action comics. It was kinda rude but like it's fine, I'm fine." His eyes doing that thing again where they flickered from place to place like he did not know what to do with himself.

He was nervous I could tell, but what I could not figure out, was why.

Did he like me, could he find me attractive?

The idea that I had somehow, unbeknownst to me, gotten under his skin had me smirking.

"Sorry." I had gotten too comfortable in my seat as I sat up straight again, looking at the boy before me.

"Wait, what?" He looking over at me as he took in my face, ran over it with an intense gaze as he took in every little detail of me and I of him. He was cute, in a lost puppy sort of way and something in me tingled at the idea of him. I had never been with someone who was out the closet and he seemed, well, very gay.

There was no way in hell he had a girlfriend, he wore oversized glasses, nerdy graphic t-shirts and spoke of comic books.

Who would fuck that?

Then again...

"I'm sorry that I called your children's books, children's books." I knew this would annoy him and watching his face light up with shock and then frustration made the act of actually talking worth it. Watching his cheeks turn red as he huffed and puffed.

"That was not nice." Brady simply stated as a matter of fact as he pulled up near a large building that suddenly gave way in-between the houses.

The moment the car was parked I was out of there at full pelt.

"Okay well, nice to meet you too, see you later I guess," Brady called out from behind me as I simply just continued walking away.

It was not that hard to find the registration desk, the woman behind it ready to assist me as she gave me my teachers' name and where exactly I can find said class. The school much smaller than my old one; so therefore much easier to navigate.

Seeing as I had come right in the middle of the year there were no more lockers available and therefore I would have to make do without one.

My first class for the day, gym, so that is where I walked among bustling teens and the odd glance. Following the smell of sweat, pheromones and desperation until I was staring at a bunch of barely clad girls and very impressed young men who acted as though they had never seen skin before. Assuming that the overweight middle-aged man was the person to talk to I walked my way over to him.

"Hey, you must be the new kid." He let out before I had the chance to, his receding hairline making his forehead look a lot bigger as he spoke in that Norwalk drawl, the same accented voice everybody else spoke in.

"Yes sir," I nodded.

"Jersey kid ai, I got some family up that side, probably a nice change from your old school ai." The coach gave him a tight-lipped smile. "So we have bad news and we have good news. The bad news is that there are no more gym uniforms left and the good news is that one of the guys had a spare for you to use until we can order more. So put your bag down and get changed." Not even bothering to reply before the coach was yelling at one of the boys to make his way over to them, "Brent, come give this boy your shorts will you?"

Wait, shorts?!

And indeed it was a boy named Brent that passed me his last years gym tank and shorts and it was an empty bathroom I then had to change in and then when I walked out in my now matching slanderously clad under fabricated gym wear that was a size too small it was everybody that stared at me and I could not say that I did not know why.

My usual layer of fabric now missing as it alerted everybody to now usually covered skin. It was the tattoos, they were on full display everywhere, like little mementos covering up my skin. Place everywhere and anywhere that could be covered up by a long shirt and pants.

My old school made me wear long joggers and a long shirt all year round, then again at my old school it was not extremely rare to be covered in tattoos. But my old school was also known to have a bad reputation that came with most of their student population being on the proverbial wrong side of the tracks. New Jersey was home to me but for outsiders, it was the shitty part of town they had to get through to go to work every morning. With drug use having nearly doubled in the last two years it was no doubt that Jersey was only getting worse as time went on.

"Line up." The coach yelled as everybody took their attention away from me, his voice echoed throughout the hall as he called out orders. "Run yourselves to the field because we are doing track today." Which caused everybody to dramatically groan, yet they listened as they walked their way out the side doors of the gym which lead to the school field.

"Hey, kid," the coach grabbing my attention as I walked past. "Tomorrow you're going to have to stay in your school clothes for gym, it is against school rules to show tattoos. But it will only be until your long gym clothes arrive." I nodded, knowing that it would play out like this. "Now get your ass on the field."

Which is what I did, jogging over to the rest of my classmates who were all stretching. Feeling slightly out of place by not doing so I stretched too. It less of a stretch and more shaking out my limbs and acting as though I did not notice people giving me corner eye glances.

Gym never a class I hated or liked, but running I was good at. Maybe it was my height and long legs or my ability to run away from every problem I have ever had, but I was good at it. So good, in fact, I was the captain of my last school's track team. But that changed when rumours about me fucking Lukas started circling around town. It, not so subtly, started with me not being allowed in the boy locker room, so I dressed in the bathroom. Then it turned into me not being allowed to sit with my teammates during lunch and slowly escalated into death threats and fistfights. Not long after that, the principal thought it'd be in my best interest to no longer run for the track team.

Because apparently being gay was contagious and taking one in the ass was how the disease spread.

Personally, I thought if a single dick in the ass was enough to make you gay you were probably gay to start out with.

"Hey, nice tattoos." A little blonde thing said as she made her way over to me.

"Thanks," Was all I said as I continued to act like I was stretching.

"Did they hurt?" She was clearly intent on starting a conversation with me.

"Yes." was the only thing I could muster up saying.

"I want to get a whole sleeve." The blonde girl did not seem the type and was probably just making conversation. "I'm Sarah by the way."

"Art." Bending down to touch my toes as I heard some of my joints pop and crack, it had been a while.

"Weird name." She laughed to herself, "But cool, weird cool name."

"Stop speaking and line up," The coach yelled when he finally joined us on the field.

~#~#~

"You ran so fast, you were like Flash. You should have seen the look on Brent's face. It was laughable. You know he is the captain of the track team and you beat him THREE TIMES!" Sarah giggled as she jumped up and down so I took it upon myself to grab my bag. Her excitement and comic book reference reminded me of a certain curly-haired boy.

"You want one?" I offered as I took my cigarette packet out my bag inserting one between my lips before offering the neon coloured packaging to her. A few kids looking our way as the hall slowly emptied.

"Oh, okay sure." Sarah took one between inexperienced fingers and placed it casual like between her lips. Lighting mine first before expending the metal zippo her way. It sparks before catching light in a controlled flame which turns bright red. "Thank you," She said before handing it back to me as I returned it safely to my pocket. The two of us slowly made our way out the hall to lean up against the outside school wall where we finished up our cigarettes.

"I'm on the track team." She informed without me having to ask. Her eyes squinting slightly as she breathed in the smoke before quickly letting it escape her lungs.

"Cool," I faked interest as I felt the hard brick wall against my back.

"What are you doing?" It was a familiar voice that sounded off in the near distance.

"Nothing." Sarah voiced as I looked over to see her quickly stomping out her cigarette as Brady approached us.

"You know you're not allowed to smoke on school grounds right?" He spoke mostly to me. I showing him just how many fucks I gave as I took a long drag of my cigarette once more.

"I thought we were going to meet up for lunch?" Brady had hurt in his tone.

Wait. When had we agreed to meet up for lunch?

"Sorry, I was sidetracked." He, not speaking to me but instead to the blonde. Quickly putting two and two together as I realised this was the same blonde he had been fighting with the night before. "Have you met Art? He is new."

I sarcastically putting my hand out for Brady to shake but he ignored me instead. "You know when you tell someone you're going to meet them for lunch you know you actually have to show up." Completely ignored Sarah's introduction.

"I apologise for my boyfriend," Sarah sighed at his blatant rudeness towards me, which I, in turn, found hilarious.

So he did have a girlfriend, who would have thought?

Not me!

Stomping out my cigarette I chose to leave the two to their drama as I merely walked away. Entering the hall to see coach packing out some stuff for the next students. He did not notice me until I was on the other end of the hall, my footsteps echoing off the wood as I walked.

"Hey kid, do you think you can show up at the track field tomorrow?" The coach said just as I reached the door.

"Ah, yes sir?" My tone not sure nor unsure. "But why sir?"

"You're going to try out for the track team." And that was all I needed to hear for the smugness to set in.