𝙾𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟸𝚗𝚍, 𝙵𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚊𝚢
Miles POV

American high schools are nuts.

Every single school year, when homecoming week rolls around, it's like everyone in high school loses their shit and their common sense. Don't get me wrong, I'm all for a fun time and a wild party, but this is insanity.

I dodge around another group of giggling girls trying to take a selfie, their hair braided intricately, faces decorated with polka-dots, and outfits adorned in an overload of purple and neon school colors.

People are celebrating in the halls like we won the damn game already. Any guy on the football team trying to get to class is either slowed down or stopped entirely like a celebrity in the crowd.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice some more boys huddled near the lockers, making legit cash bets on what team will win tonight. I can't make this shit up.

Hearing the pep band making their round up ahead makes me backtrack my path and swing through a different hallway. Everyone in the main hall cheers as the first few notes of The Final Countdown are played. I walk faster so my eardrums won't be busted. I made the mistake of walking by the band earlier on my way to first period.

Either way, I'll admit that I'm in a rush to get to history class. I would make a bet that Greyson is going to be late to his own class since he seems to enjoy the fame and the limelight, except I'm not in a hurry to see the teacher.

I loop my thumbs through the straps on my backpack and wrap my fingers into fists, turning at the first intersection of the hallway.

Away from the main hallway, things are calmer, and I can think properly. It would probably be helpful to think over the speech notes for today's project. My thoughts keep gravitating away from the subject and toward the partner.

Oh, Parker. What a fascinating guy. I used to think he was fucking with my head with his daily personality changes, but ever since our talk at that restaurant a few nights ago, I feel like I see him in a whole new light.

He affirmed what I already knew about not acting 100% like himself around our classmates. Since he said that, it cleared a lot of confusion in the air.

I turn another corner as I think, lost in thought.

What I used to mistake as stand-offish was him holding back his personality. Sure, yesterday during class he was quieter than usual, but after class he apologized to me for being reserved, saying something about being nervous about football.

I totally get it, except it also makes me wonder if he's nervous about playing or nervous about performing in front of hundreds. Because if I gained anything from our little midnight chat, he's not entirely enthralled with the game. Not how people think he would be.

I swing a right at the next intersection in the hall, then come to a stop. This isn't the correct hallway. Instead of a line of classrooms, all I see are rows of lockers.

I should look up the architect who built this place and give them a piece of my mind. Not that I have any money to sue them with or any real leverage to make them scared.

"Fuck," I curse under my breath again and spin around, determined to backtrack my steps. This is what I get for taking a shortcut through a big ass school.

"Miles?"

My feet stutter to a stop, and I turn around, smiling at the pretty girl walking over. I know that red-brown hair from anywhere. Rose, one of Parker's cousins.

"Hey, lady, what's up?" I ask casually, keeping my hands hooked around my bag straps.

Rose grins and shrugs as she catches up to me, the smell of her perfume following right behind. It takes me a second to focus on not choking.

I've come to enjoy hanging around Rose ever since we met over a week and a half ago. Plus, we have talked after history here and there since then, and I've been joining them all at their lunch table. She's cool but must apply half a bottle of perfume each morning. Or I'm not used to how it smells anymore. I prefer cologne.

"Not a whole lot! I just got done with helping Mrs. Enger clean up the dissections." Rose grins when I scrunch my nose at the thought, then asks, "What are you doing over here?"

"Oh, you know, going for a midday stroll," I reply sarcastically.

"You got lost, didn't you?"

"Yeah. I don't know where I'm at."

She laughs and leads the way as we approach another hall. "Don't worry. It happens all the time. Are you coming to the game tonight?"

I smile at her reassurance, following her through the halls like a lost duck. "Of course. I bet that if I missed it, Greyson would give me F's for the rest of the semester."

""Greyson"? You must hang around Parker quite a bit. He's the only one who calls him that," Rose proclaims, looking over at me.

My steps falter, making my sneakers squeak against the tile floor. I wait for the accusatory look, a knowing glance, but she's not assuming anything--just observing.

"I wouldn't go as far as saying that. There's not much I can do when we're partnered up for this history project," I reply with a passive shrug.

"True. You better come to the game tonight, then. Otherwise he just might fail you on the project," she teases, holding down her smile.

"I dunno if he would. I'm partnered with the big star on his team. Do you think that would balance the grade out?" I retort and raise an eyebrow.

"Oh shoot, you're right! Count yourself lucky, Miles!" Rose admits with another smile.

I snort. Lucky. Yeah, right.

Sidestepping closer to her as we get near the main hall, I avoid bumping into our peers as Rose leads the way toward history class. The warning bell finally rings, dampening everyone's spirits as they scurry away from the activities, not wanting to risk being tardy.

As we walk, it dawns on me that she's not connected with her significant other at the hip. "Hey, where's Forrest?"

"He had to leave science immediately, saying something about helping Griffin with something? I dunno, I don't question it anymore."

"God, I wouldn't question or say no to Griffin either!" I laugh and hope she doesn't take that remark in a bad way. Since our conversation a few weeks ago after that football game, he's left me a little shaken.

"I'm fully related to the guy. That's how I learned not to question him." She giggles. Maybe I should be worried for her safety, but she brushes it off as a joke.

Smiling in response instead, I look over to a side hall as we pass, and commotion catches my eye. A person is jogging down the hall toward us. Actually, not just any person. Parker.

He grins as he gets closer, making me light up too.

Man, can every day be homecoming?

He looks really good every day, but today he's plain-old dashing. The purple and neon jersey he's wearing pops against his tan skin, matching the rest of the football team's jerseys I've seen all day. His pants fit him a little too well, quickly making me realize that I'm staring. His hair is effortlessly messy in that aggravating way that makes me want to run my hands through it to see how messy I can really make it.

It takes a lot of concentration to reground myself.

"Rose, Miles," Parker greets us and slows down, falling in stride beside me. I'm humbled to be seen with two of the school's hottest people.

"Hey," Rose replies, all smiles. I'm starting to believe that she never stops smiling; she could take over the sun with the warmth radiating from her.

"What's good, man? How are you feeling about tonight?" I ask casually, scratching my neck. I'm uneasy about saying the wrong thing with Rose here as an audience. Not that I care what anyone thinks about us. But if I were the cause for Parker's reputation to be wrecked, I would hate myself.

Suddenly, I find myself caring about what Rose is thinking.

I should have kept my mouth shut.

Parker hums. "Good. I think. Practice has been fine, and Greyson isn't nervous, so I guess I have no reason to be, either. It'll be a good game tonight."

"Just good? Really?" Rose questions and laughs, her tone indicating that she knows more than what she's letting on. "From what Griffin said, it sounds like you guys have been killing it at practice! So much so that you got some special guests last night?" Rose looks past me to see Parker's reaction, her eyes twinkling.

Parker scoffs, his cheeks turning pink. I draw my eyebrows together, looking at Parker, too. "Special guests? Like, celebrities?"

"Maybe celebrities of D1 schools. Some scouts came to watch us practice, but they left right away when it ended." He shrugs, passing this news off like it's old gossip.

"Scouts? Holy shit, dude! That's huge, especially if they're D1! Let me guess, Berkeley?"

"Nope. UCLA and Stanford." Parker grins as I laugh in shock.

Rose claps her hands together in joy, completely ecstatic. "My brother didn't tell me that much!! Wow! Congratulations, even just getting their attention is a huge accomplishment!"

"Yeah, it's pretty sweet. Nothing has come out of it yet, though." Parker's smile loses its crinkle, and he glances at me for a moment. I'm able to fill in his blanks. Nothing has come out of it yet, but I'm actually afraid that something will.

I tilt my chin in acknowledgment, hoping he knows I understand. Instead of dwelling on the topic, I move on. "So, Rose..." I start, letting my words hang in the air as we walk into the classroom.

She pauses as we enter, as does Parker. When I don't keep talking, she quirks an eyebrow at me. "Yes...?"

"Do you have room for one more at the game tonight?"

"Oh! Yes!" She beams, overcome with excitement. "We totally do! Should we pick you up? Would that be easier?"

My eyes widen, and I backpedal. "No, no, there's no need. You don't need to go all the way across town to go all the way back again. I'll meet you at the field. I need someone cool to sit with."

Parker watches our conversation like a tennis match until I say that last sentence and make him laugh. "Cool? Shit, you'd be better off sitting down on the bench with the rest of the team. We're cooler."

I'm flattered and also don't know how to respond. Is he being kind or trying to imply something? Thankfully I don't have to worry about responding because Rose jumps in for me.

"Buzz off, dude! I'm glad that Miles recognizes who's better! Yes, we will save a seat for you." She finishes talking right as the final bell rings.

"Since we got that figured out, I'll look forward to it!" Rose smiles and waves her fingers at us before heading off to her desk and greeting her posse of friends.

I mimic her wave lightheartedly right back at her before turning to Parker, who's still smiling like an idiot as he watches us. Before I can ask what his deal is, he shakes his head and turns around, walking down to his spot.

I follow him, sliding my bag off my shoulders as I sit down. Right as my ass hits the chair, Greyson bursts into the room. He's late like I expected. If we want to talk about all smiles, this is the guy. I've never seen him look so excited before.

"What a good, wonderful morning!" Greyson gloats, the classroom door slamming shut behind him. "Answer this for me, folks. What's going on tonight?"

I can't help but smirk a little. He's gotta be pulling our legs.

Of course, the class gets jittery, not even bothering to raise their hands as most of them yell out, "Homecoming!"

"Right! This is a big event, folks! I'm not talking about the parties or whatever you kids do now to celebrate the weekend. I'm talking about the game! That's what we will all be attending tonight, I hope!"

I crack a grin at how Greyson says that and decide to give him some crap. "Wait, we're not watching The Magic Schoolbus as a class tonight? Wow, I canceled my hot date for that!"

Greyson bites his cheek to keep from smiling, probably not wanting to egg the conversation on. The rest of the class laughs at the image, and the ice is broken.

"Hot date?" Parker pipes up and laughs in a way that makes my heart race. "Who in the world would you classify that under?"

I turn around in my seat and grin sheepishly. He couldn't have asked that question in a more harmless, casual way. Still, my brain instantly starts digging for any underlying tones.

"You know Ethan Dolan?" I retort jokingly.

Parker snorts at that, another blush spreading over his cheeks. Immediately the girls are chattering, one even going as far as saying, "He's not even gay!"

"Okay, okay, tone it down!" Greyson claps his hands to get everyone's attention. "I'm sorry we wasted your time, Miles. We're not doing that."

"Damn." I curse and snap my fingers, feigning disappointment.

Again, Greyson has to clap his hands to quiet everyone down. "This is the biggest, grandest night of the year, next to the State football game! Our team has worked their ass off so far this season, and it'll be one hell of a fight on that field tonight. I hope to see everyone there, although honestly, I probably won't be paying attention because I have a game to coach." He grins as my peers giggle knowingly.

"Okay, enough chit-chat. Football will come later. We have stuff to get done. I hope everyone came prepared to present their projects today because that's my only lesson plan. Hopefully, you'll get grades back on Monday, depending on how the game goes."

Greyson would probably go as far as checking himself into a mental hospital if they lose this game.

"Now, who wants to go first?" Greyson asks, observing his pupils.

Behind me, I hear Parker slowly inhale, probably wrestling his anxiety demons. Maybe I should do both of us a favor and get this over with.

I have no time to raise my hand because Rose and her partner, Brin, get up first.

"We'll go," Rose offers and walks up front to her dad, handing him her laptop.

"Wonderful! Let's get this over with, shall we?" Greyson says and pushes off his desk, taking the laptop as he walks around to his computer. It takes him a moment to connect the electronics. A very elaborate, detailed PowerPoint pops up on the smart board when he does.

I bite my cheek to keep from laughing as I turn my head, whispering back at Parker, "Um, we're fucked."

"Definitely. I didn't realize those two chicks were professional PowerPoint graphic designers."

Chuckling, I turn forward again, listening to Brin burst into her intro speech of the Whiskey Rebellion.

The girls breeze through their presentation like seasoned pros, making it so interesting that even I listen the whole time and learn a few new things.

Another pair goes after them, a boy and a girl that I don't remember the names of. It's obvious that the girl carried this project on her shoulders. She doesn't have to look at the PowerPoint behind them, nor her notes, while all the boy does is flip to the next slide every so often.

Greyson shakes his head as they finish up, mumbling something under his breath as he jots down a note on his paper. Slowly he exhales and looks up. "Okay, who wants to go next?"

"We will." I stand up, looking over at Parker. His eyes are wide, taken by surprise, but he doesn't seem peeved.

"Oh, okay, yep, fire us up, Greyson," Parker rambles as he gets to his feet, bringing the fancy laptop over to his uncle.

"Sure thing, boys, let's hear it." Greyson finishes setting up the laptop, our PowerPoint lighting up the smart board. I grin at our patchy work, a noticeable downgrade from Rose and Brins. We thought our work looked pretty damn good the other day, so it's the thought that counts.

Turning to face our classmates, I beam at the 22 bored faces watching us. At least most of the girls look slightly more entertained as they check Parker out. As I notice their lust-hungry looks, I feel a snowball of defensiveness rolling downhill in my gut.

He's probably straight, let the kid bask in all of that estrogen glory. Don't act like the weird gay kid, Miles, I scold myself when I notice I'm shooting glares at the front row of girls.

Parker clears his throat and gives me a reassuring look before jumping into our presentation. "For today's project, we're very happy to present the Haymarket Riot," he starts off the intro strong, transitioning into the extroverted, intelligent, nerdy side of himself.

"Well, I dunno about very happy, more like happy to get this over with," I toss in there, gaining some laughter and nods of agreement.

Even Greyson snorts, making me smile. He's not the type to ridicule high school students for being, well, students. Especially when it comes to Parker. I think he's starting to like me, too.

Parker pursues his lips and eyeballs me. "Shut up, stop reading my mind," he stage whispers in response, gaining more giggles from people.

I grin and peek over at Greyson. "Hey, do we get extra points for crowd approval?"

"Good question. I've never thought about that." He shrugs.

"Holt, I'm going to beat your ass. Let me talk!" Parker laughs and whops my arm with his notes.

Letting out a laugh, I bite my tongue as I jump away. That was kinda hot, in a really weird, round-a-bout sorta way. I'd let him hit me again any day while saying my last name. It sounds extra hot coming out of his mouth.

"Sorry, my bad. Go on." I wave my hand and step back, leaning around him to click the button on the laptop for the next slide. The scent of his cologne bathes me in a smokey, sage wave. This is going to be a very long five minutes.

"Anyway, the riot happened on the fourth day of May in 1886. A labor protest rally near Chicago's Haymarket Square, hence the name, turned into a deadly riot after someone threw a bomb at the police. Personally, I think nothing has really changed in the 21st century," Parker mumbles that last sentence, shuffling his notecards to the next one.

I scoff and hope no one else heard that. Parker glances over at me, and he gives me a lop-sided smile.

My skin feels warmer, making me blink when I realize he made me fucking blush. Blush. Over the simplest smile at the most random time. Like a goddamn school girl. I'm grateful for my dark skin for the first time in a while.

There's no time to waste on my emotions. Parker hands the notes to me, and our fingers brush as he passes them off. He keeps that dumb smile on his face, making me feel more flustered.

I clear my throat, tearing my eyes away from him so I can pick up where he left off. "There's a count of eight people that died that day, but it's possible that more could have been taken out," I read aloud. "Even though there was little evidence against these folks, eight radical labor activists were convicted in false connection with the bombing." The sentence throws me off, making my brain connect some facts. I assume that my peers will catch my drift as I say, "Hmm, maybe those activists were black."

"Shoot." Parker whistles and shakes his head. "Or Muslim."

"Mexican, maybe?" A blond boy in the front row adds.

"Enough about racial injustice. We'll go over that next semester. Continue, boys," Greyson redirects our conversation.

I salute him with the notecards. "Yes, sir. Anywho..." I hum, scanning the notecard. Man, Parker has nice handwriting. I open my mouth and almost tell him that, but right now probably isn't the time. That would go against Griffin's whole don't act gay command.

"Um," I slowly continue, "This riot was viewed as a major setback for the labor unit back then in America, which was trying to fight for some humane rights, like not working their employees to fuckin' death." I pause and grin as Parker laughs again, visibly biting his cheek to try and stop. His muffled giggles make me laugh a little as I keep talking. "At that same time, many people in the labor movement viewed the convicted men as martyrs."

I pass the notes back over to Parker again, shuffling my feet. All of the trained eyes on us make me uneasy. I'm not usually one to be shaken by getting attention, but this is a lot for me. Or maybe I'm nervous about acting the wrong way around Parker and immediately throwing his reputation in the trash with one wrong look.

Except he's making that feat extremely hard right now. I don't see anything wrong with our banter, yet someone in the crowd may view our actions as 'flirting.' Then again, what if this is his way of flirting?

I'm so caught up in worry that I don't listen to Parker's following paragraphs. He's holding the cards back out to me again, patiently waiting.

God damn. I pray that this spot is where he left off. I quickly finish this speech, talking about the aftermath and the important things to take away from this historical event.

As I finish talking, I shuffle the notes back together. "And this is a great example of why we don't fuck around with the police. Thank you for your time. I appreciate you people and hope you learned something." I tip my head at everyone as Parker steals my usual style of saluting.

Our classmates applaud politely while a few of our good friends whistle and cheer, making me laugh as I grab the laptop off of the desk for Parker.

"Nice job, boys. I appreciate the hard work and entertainment. Please take a seat. Let's keep this show on the road! Next group!" Greyson snaps his fingers.

Parker is beaming as we walk back towards our desks, taking the laptop from me. Again, his hands brush against mine and make my skin crawl with pleasure. He's got to be doing that shit on purpose because there's no other logical reason why he would reach that far to take this small laptop.

"Good job, partner in crime," he praises as we sink back into our seats. "We nailed that!"

"You mean partner in project?" I tease, looking back at him to wink. My action does exactly as I intend it to do; he blushes. Sweet, sweet payback. Plus, he looks cuter when he's flustered. "If we went around saying that we were partners in crime, I would probably get shot."

"Shut up. I won't let you get shot." Parker snorts, kicking my leg with his foot.

I snicker, smacking my foot right back into his. We stop hitting each other around when Greyson gives us a knock-it-off look.

Even though I feel good about being done, my heart won't stop pounding in my chest.