High by the Beach • France

Chapter Five

After Vance got into that fight at the party the teenager stopped feeling so compelled to push Finney away, which was also the first step in him beginning to let his guard down more and more around Bruce. He had allowed his fondness of the boy to become apparent—even after his kiss got rejected—it undoubtedly hurt so he tried pulling away but Bruce held on tightly and even now he refused to let go.

On Bruce's bed Finney laid down, his legs were thrown over Vance's lap while he put pen on paper, struggling to find a proper sentence. Vance would've complained about this but he was too busy using his friend's legs as a table to draw on so he was fine with the predicament. Bruce on the other hand paced around the room as he remained the only person actually interested in the english project they were assigned. A collection of Edgar Allen Poes stories and poems were in his hands as he read out excerpts.

“But our love it was stronger by far than the love
   Of those who were older than we—
   Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in Heaven above
   Nor the demons down under the sea
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
   Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;"

Bruce smiled as his starry eyes read the words and his tongue repeated them. He had always been a huge fan of poetry though he had never met someone who truly shared the same interest—until Finney.

Finney enjoyed poetry just as much as Bruce, if not more, though he didn't like writing it in school since unnecessary structure was always added. His eyes were fixated on the blank notebook in front of him instead of listening to what his friend was spouting.

Bruce tore his eyes from the page, watching Finney whose eyes remained focused on his own. "What do you think of that?" He asked only receiving a small hum in response which irritated him beyond belief.

"Are you even listening to me?" Bruce was annoyed as he eyed Finney. "Hm?" The boy hummed once again, this time actually looking up. "I said our project should be about Edgar Allen Poe," The boy repeated.

In english the students were supposed to make a presentation for an influential poet of their choosing, so naturally Bruce wanted to pick his favorite which happened to be the one and only Edgar Allen Poe though Finney was not convinced.

The boy scoffed as he sat up reciving a groan from Vance as it caused him to fuck up his bored sketches. "I don't want to pick that wannabe–" The teen spat, eyebrows furrowed as he did so. "What do you have against Edgar Allen Poe?" Bruce asked, putting the book down as he sat down on his twin sized bed with the two boys.

"Screw him, screw all of the poets that came before me," Finney preached receiving a snicker from Vance. "Yeah fuck Jane Austen," He added while Bruce face palmed. "Jane Austen wasn't a poet," He corrected, Vance decided to ignore that fact. "Well her shit still sucked—not even zombies could save Pride and Prejudice," He glared. "This is coming from the guy who loves The Notebook," The other teen retaliated. Finney simply rolled his eyes at the ever-so-spiraling argument his friends found themselves in.

"Guys!" He yelled causing the soon to be yelling to stop. "Yeah you heard me screw The Raven and whatever dumb stuff he did before and after that—you know that poem inspired the book Lolita, that's more than enough to hate the guy," He explained though Bruce wasn't following. "Light of my life, fire of my loins–" Bruce quoted. "–I love that book, its one of my favorites."

Finney scoffed at what his friend had taken away from the conversation. "Okay listen, that stuff we call poems when it comes to Edgar Allen Poe isn't art—its words on a page—which is why I think we should do the presentation about ourselves."

Vance looked away from what he was doing as he found himself mildly interested in what finney had to say. Bruce watched in confusion so he began to elaborate. "We should make the presentation about ourselves—I mean we'll show everyone that we are the future," The other boys just laughed, Finney might've been really high but he was being dead serious. "Okay if you're such a poet why don't you share some of your work with us?" Bruce raised his eyebrow not excpecting his friend to accept the challenge but he did just that.

The youngest teenager stood up as he flipped his notebook to a random page and stared at it intently—pretending to read off of it though his mind was blank as he thought of starting sentences. Finney cleared his throat before beginning, stuttering through his words that got easier to come up with as he went on.

"Sorry to bother you, you speak into my ear,
there's nothing in there yet you say those words again—I hated those words
   you say it once more, my heart beats
   for the first time
Fourth times the charm
you are the charm—
   I am nothing but a heart that beats and a head forever empty, you were never one to bother me,"

His eyes met Bruce's as the words leaked out of his mouth like liquid in a broken cup. "Sorry to bother you" was the first thing Bruce ever said to Finney—Bruce needed a pencil and Finney awkwardly handed him one. There was nothing special about that perticular interaction but in a way that was what made it so importent.

As the younger boy watched Bruce's face he was scared he'd realize it was about him—them. A love confession was not his intention when he first stood up, but it was what he got.

He didn't know how the room became so serious but the tone had changed drastically.

Bruce clapped with a grin as Finney bowed. "Thank you," He smiled back only for the moment to be ruined. "That was gay as fuck," Vance butted in, leaving Finney embarrassed as he sat back down. "You are such an asshole!" He hit the boy in the arm while Bruce ignored them with a yawn, checking his clock, it was getting pretty late. "We've been working on this all day and still haven't picked a poet," He frowned. "Yeah that's why we should pick us," Finney suggested once again. "Well, I'd still like to get a good grade," Bruce answered though Finney wouldn't leave him alone.

"Please!" He begged once again until receiving a groan of defeat. "Let's sleep on it," Bruce decided, meeting the boy halfway. With a smile he couldn't hide Bruce sent Finney and Vance off to their own room, he was tired and needed to sleep.

He said his goodbye to Vance who began walking back to his room though as he was saying goodbye to Finney the boy stopped him. "Hey, um, thank's for the pencil," Bruce smiled, Finney turned a bright shade of red as he realized that Bruce had realized that the poem was about him. "Um, you're welcome," He smiled awkwardly at the belated thank you before turning to leave.

"One more thing," Bruce stopped Finney once again. "Would you like to hang out next week? Maybe after we get back from the meuseum," On saturday they had a field trip to some museum for art history though after they got back they'd have nothing to do so it was perfect. Finney nodded with a smile.

"Of course, I'll ask Vance if–"

"I mean, just us," Finney couldn't hide the panic in his eyes as Bruce revealed the fact that he wanted to hang out together—completely alone. With a smile the shorter boy nodded, trying to hide the way his eyes lit up at the question alone.

"Cool." Bruce had stars in his eyes as he looked at the other boy. "Cool." Finney matched the expression.

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Notes: I decided to make Finney happy since someone (Luka 👀) refuses to give him peace. Also I'm sick so uploads may slow down a bit, sorry!!! Ps. Im aware my poetry sucks lmao

Word count: 1,371