A spirit between us (bxb)

Chapter 1 - Finn.

What's the definition of perfect?

Finley O'conner.

He was the star quarterback of his high school football team, which came with a built-in entourage of "friends" who seemed to think their life's mission was to make everyone else's miserable. With his perfectly tousled brown hair, sun-kissed skin, and ridiculously gorgeous sapphire blue eyes which were framed by unfairly long lashes, he looked like he'd walked straight out of a teen movie.

The only thing obstructing his cliché existence was the absence of a glamorous, blonde girlfriend with a special talent for eye-rolling and an uncanny ability to turn any mundane situation into a soap opera worthy melodrama.

But that's not the life that he wanted.

Finn had always felt out of sync with the rest of world around him. He never quite fit in anywhere, as if he were a square in the vast universe of circles. While all of his friends had their first childhood 'relationships' and pretend marriages on the playground in elementary school, Finn was off on grand adventures, pretending to be a pirate captain and sword-fighting imaginary foes. He knew he wasn't interested in girls the same way that his friends were when he was younger, but it wasn't until years later when he had his first kiss at 14, where the full truth of his sexuality hit him like a rogue wave.

It was at a birthday party, in a circle of giggling teens playing truth or dare, Finn was dared to kiss Lyla, a charming girl from his algebra class who had a sprinkle of freckles, fiery red hair, and those big, doe-like brown eyes. She was sweet, and her kiss was fine—if you were into that sort of thing. But as Finn pulled away, he had come to a realisation: he would rather eat seaweed than kiss a girl ever again. Unfortunately for him, Lyla seemed to think that kiss was the start of something special, and for the next few years, Finn was haunted by the whispers of their 'relationship' that circulated through the school halls. To Finns dismay, the rumour of his and her relationship still made its way around the entire school every month or so.

Finn hadn't told anyone he was gay. Just thinking about it made his throat feel like sandpaper, dry and scratchy, like the words would choke him if he tried to let them out. So instead, he shoved his feelings down, buried them under dumb jokes and over the top antics, hoping no one would notice the cracks beneath the surface.

But deep down, he wanted to. More than anything. He dreamed of ripping off the mask he wore every day, finally stepping into the sunlight as himself, not the version of Finn he'd so carefully constructed. The thought was terrifying, but the idea of being trapped forever in his own web of lies was worse.

Currently, Finn sat near the back of his history class, tapping his pen quietly against the table to the rhythm of an irritably catchy song that had been stuck in his head since the car ride to school, which annoyed him even more considering this was his last class of the day. The lesson had only started around 10 minutes ago, but he'd already stopped listening to whatever his teacher was droning on about.

Her name was Mrs Rosery, she was an older woman in her mid 50's with greying brunette hair that she always wore in a messy, tangled bun and circular glasses with thick lenses that made her hazelnut eyes  seem unnaturally large, and she was possibly the most annoying and boring teacher Finn had ever encountered. She was the master at making even the most thrilling historical events feel like sitting still and watching paint dry, and he couldn't help but wonder if this mind-numbingly boring lecture was some sort of cruel punishment for surviving the day.

Suddenly, the classroom door flew open with a force that made everyone jump, and all eyes snapped to the figure standing in the doorway. It was Archie Hallow, the unapologetic blonde who seemed to waltz through life on his own terms, blissfully late as usual. Finn's heart raced and his stomach felt as though it tied in knots as he watched the short boy saunter into the classroom without batting an eye, completely unfazed by the glares of their classmates-or Mrs Rosery's simmering fury.