Family Friends (Kleinsen One-Shots)

2. Jared's POV

CHAPTER 2

Jared plopped down onto a chair with a soft thud, gazing down onto the fresh white paper. His thoughts trailed off, soon getting distracted from the task at hand. He grabbed a pen, unknowingly twirling it with his fingers. It was a habit, the click it made soothed him. 'Evan always looks at me all cute when I twirl my pen.' He chuckled, then it soon turned into a surprised cough.

"Cute?" He questioned, tightening the grip on his pen. "Where did cute come from?" His mind argued, stating everything he thought of the blond-haired boy.

'His smiles, which are incredibly different to those who pay attention. And then his freckles, but they're only noticeable in the sun. His skin always has a pinkish tint, so faint yet so obvious. He has this soft laugh that echoes through the room.' As he thought, a dreamy smile spread across his face.

He shook his head, sighing at himself. He tried to squish the tickling feeling in his stomach, but it was incredibly stubborn. He soon gave in, giggling softly at the very thought of him.

Jared then remembered what he agreed to. He could usually handle Evan in the few classes they spend together, but after school as well? His heart thumped wildly in his chest, and he assumed his cheeks were dusted with pink. He rubbed his knuckles, swallowing nervously.

One one hand, the thought of spending that long with the most perfect boy he had ever met would be simply amazing, but on the other, how could he possibly survive?! He gasped loudly, eyes widening.

"What will I wear?!" He jumped up to his feet, rushing to his closet. He flipped through his hangers, remembering the vague dress codes for the party. 'It was casual, right?' He settled on an orange button-up, black tee, and dark grey jeans with a pair of sneakers. He smiled, feeling proud of his outfit.

He picked up his phone, about to text Evan to show him, but as he opened the contact his fingers froze. 'I should wait.' The thought of talking to him was now nerve-wracking, squeezing the phone in his hands. With a sigh of defeat, he chucked the phone onto his messily-made bed and soon followed suit.

A little part of his mind whispered worries into his brain, planting seedlings of doubt. Things such as: 'What if he doesn't like you? What if he likes someone else? What if he's straight?' He cringed at the last thought, squeezing his eyes shut as he rolled onto his back. He grabbed the fluffy comforter, his fingers digging into the thick grey blanket.

His thoughts spiraled into his insecurities, such as his roundish stomach, then to his flabby arms, and his crooked teeth. Groaning loudly, he buried his face into a pillow to let out a weak scream.

Feeling slightly better, he took a deep breath and sat up. He looked back to the outfit that laid on his chair, remembering how happy he was only moments before. 'It'll be okay, won't it?'