My Other Thirds

Chapter Two (Keyan)

I look yearningly after Grayson as he leaves English class. If I had to call anyone my best friend, it would be him. We became friends in early elementary school, and he lives a few houses down from me. We're always hanging out and know literally everything about each other- well, except for one thing. First, I tried to ignore the feeling, thinking it was just a temporary thing, that it will pass. But recently, I just couldn't keep sweeping it under the rug- I'm pretty sure I have a crush on my best friend. I could never tell him though– he would think it's weird and our friendship would be ruined. Of course, he would never feel the same way about me.

I sigh as I gather up my things and get ready to head to my new math class– my whole timetable is different because of that one transfer I made. I'm sure it was worth it though, I never was really able to learn anything from Mr. Smith.
The bell rings as I'm walking down the hall. Not a good first impression to be late for a new class, but I can't really bring myself to care about it. As I near the door of my new math class, I can hear Mr. Frank's stern voice: "That's what you told me yesterday Bryson, yet here we are again." I haven't even seen this teacher yet and I already don't like him. I quietly enter the classroom. Standing by the teacher with his back to me, is the victim of the yelling– a tall guy with chestnut curls cascading over his shoulders. The whole class is staring at him until I walk in. Mr. Frank turns to me: "Students, this is Keyan, he's going to be in this class now. His whole timetable had to be changed due to him transferring out of Mr. Smith's science class." I think he could've kept that information to himself.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the kid he was yelling at quietly slip into his seat with his head down. I'm guessing by the way he's acting that this isn't the first time the teacher yelled at him. "Why don't you go sit down at that desk over by Bryson." Mr. Frank points at the desk next to the guy he was yelling at. As I make my way over to the empty desk, Mr. Frank adds:  "And speaking of Bryson, I want you to stay a little longer after class to talk to me today."
Bryson's shoulders tense, "But I–"  Mr. Frank cuts him off, "No buts young man. You're staying after class, end of discussion." I watch as Bryson opens his mouth to keep arguing. He really shouldn't say anything– it's just going to make the situation worse.  "Don't argue, man. He's just gonna get more mad at you." I whisper.

Bryson turns around to look at me, and I'm immediately captivated by his tawny eyes that stare directly into mine. I can't help but smile as I look over his beautiful face. With difficulty, I tear my eyes away from him and turn towards the teacher. I can distinctly feel his gaze burning a hole in the side of my head as I try my best to focus on Mr. Frank.