''Ian Romero, the person I hate the most in the whole wide world. He turned the entire school against me, and then just left me alone in the hell he created.''
There's no one Cody Walker hates more than Ian Romero, who is the reason he has been bull...
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*Ian Romero's POV
Five days ago I kissed Cody Walker. To be more precise, I kissed Cody Walker five times. Other than that, I think it's better I don't think about it too much.
Not because it would have been terrible, because it was anything but that. Just to make sure I sound as smitten and clichéd as I possibly can: it was the goddamn dream come true. One could say almost literally.
The reason I shouldn't think about it too much was because we were sitting in a classroom and I could already see how uncomfortable my dreamy staring was making Cody. Every now and then he glanced at me and frowned, looking as perplexed as ever.
So maybe you understand why I really couldn't think about the kiss. Or, well, the kisses. Those were great kisses, like really great. If I could have done so right there and then, I would have..
"Ian, seriously, stop that." Cody scolded me and tossed an eraser towards me. Fortunately I catched it before any harm could have been done.
"Sorry, I can't help it." I muttered apologetically and lowered my gaze to the notebook I was supposed to be writing notes in. Ade seemed to find my suffering amusing and he wiggled his eyebrows, a wide grin on his lips.
I thought I had been totally smitten before, but apparently I had no idea about what 'totally smitten' actually meant. After the kisses I had asked for Cody's number and we had been texting until he fell asleep.
On Friday I hadn't been in much better shape than I was today, which had been amusing for Ade and Oat, but not so much for me or Cody. During the weekend I had tortured myself by spending time with mom and going to kickboxing practice, when all I wanted to do was to keep texting with Cody. But as I didn't want to scare him off, I needed to at least pretend I still had an ounce left of my cool.
I had been thinking about my dad a lot as well, but I still didn't know how to feel about him. I mean, I did understand why he needed to be with someone he actually loved. I knew what it was like to have to hide your feelings when they didn't 'fit the norm'.
We lived in a fucked up world after all and not everyone seemed to realise it was the same love one felt for the same gender than the other felt for a different gender. Love was always a good feeling, one of the purest feelings one could feel, and that didn't change whether your love fit the norm or not.
Besides, just because there was more heterosexuality than there was homosexuality, it didn't make homosexuality abnormal. It simply made it less common.
I admit that at the beginning I was angry at dad because he was gay, and that made me despise all the gay people for a while. But over a time I realised my hurt and anger had little to do with dad being gay.
The real reason I was angry at him and still couldn't quite forgive him for what he had done, was the misleading and lying. Why make mom fall in love with him and start a family, when he knew he would end up miserable? And why cheat? Dad hurt mom so badly it was more like he broke her.
