beautiful facades

Marco

Absentmindedly I twisted a leave of the green carefully mawned grass between my fingers.
We were sitting on the ground under an old oak tree. It had been our spot ever since we had been at the school. Or ever since we had become friends.
We weren't bullies or anything. But we were popular, definetely. And nobody else had ever made an attempt to take our place. Which I was glad about since I liked sitting leaned against the thick rough trunk of the tree. In summer, it's branches would protect us from the shining sun. But to be fair, in the north of England, the sun was hardly ever that aggressive.
Most of the time, the weather wasn't good nor bad. It was just grey and cloudy and boring as it was right now. Yet, instead of spending our lunch break in the library like the other, we would come here. I needed the fresh air between lessons. And even more, I needed my friends.
„Hi y'all", Mya said. She was the last of us to come having had lessons in the Sports hall.
She was also the only one of us wearing her sports kit. Immediately I envied her as I longed for the comfort of tracksuit bottoms and a jumper. Instead i was wearing a blazer, a shirt with a tie and dress pants. And Rosie had to wear a skirt and ballerinas; she complained at least once a day how cold she was.

Right now she was sitting above me on a branch of the tree. Which was probably dangerous. It had always been her branch even when we had only been in year 6. I thought back with a smile on how I used to admire her when she was bold enough to climb the oak. I had had a crush on her, but before I could have made a move my feelings had disappeared. And they hadn't come back.
„Do you want a crisp?", Mortimer asked her. I know, that's probably the stupidest name imaginable. Mortimer thought so too and he damned the descendent after which he had been named. Apparently he had won a medal in world war one (the descendent, not my best friend since preschool).
Rosie shook her head.
„I'm good, thank you", she said. But I wasn't.
„I'm hungry", I complained. Morti threw the bag of crisps and I managed to catch it before it's interior could fall out and cover the ground. I stuffed a handful in my mouth.
But when i wanted to reach for another crisp the bag had violently been riped out of my hand. By Philip.
His fingers touched mine for a second; they were soft for a boy.
He laughed, then emptied the bag ignoring Morti's complaining.
Philip never had to follow any rules. He always took what he wanted even when it belonged to his best friends.
He was a jerk, probably. Most of the time, he was self-centered and overconfident.
But not always which was probably why the others were friends with him.
I had my own reasons.
I loved how his eyes were light blue on certain days and more of a grey tone on others.
I loved how his blond hair fell into his forehead and how his lips curled into a smile.
I loved how he smelt, of eau de cologne and coffee.
I loved how he made me laugh and how kind he could be.
I loved him and I had spent the past couple years denying this feelings.
First to myself, but now I was doing everything I could to hide it from the others.
I was far away from coming out and even further from telling him how I felt. I was convinced it was one of these secrets I would take to the grave. And also, part of me still hoped I would wake up one day and everything, I, was normal again.
„You have been working out, haven't you?", Philip asked. He extented his hand to feel my bizeps.
I shrugged, trying not to blush.
I just tried my best to act normal. But how on earth do you act normal?