A VERY RANDOM BL (READ IT)

CHAPTER 1

Okay, real talk. My life isn't exactly the kind they'd make into a wholesome family sitcom. Not even close. I mean, take my parents: they're technically around, sure, but if you measured "being around" in hours actually spent at home, they'd probably score lower than some of my favorite babysitters from back in the day. And they were awesome by the way—Annette, especially. She'd let me eat ice cream before dinner sometimes. Way more parenting there than from my actual parents, who could disappear for weeks, and Eli and I wouldn't even blink. It's just... normal. Sad, but normal.

Speaking of Eli, he's my older brother. He's six-foot-nothing of dependable, no-nonsense, "I've-got-your-back" energy. If you need someone to talk to, or someone to punch a bully in the face for you, Eli's your guy. He's the only one who knows I'm gay, and he didn't make it weird. Just kinda nodded and said, "Alright." I love the guy. He's more of a family to me than our parents, honestly. Like, if they came home after being gone for three weeks with the usual "Sorry, work was demanding" spiel, we'd just shrug it off. This isn't some drama-fest; it's just life.

But today isn't about parents, thankfully. Today's about school. New year, new possibilities. I'm psyched. Mostly because soccer's starting up again, and I can't wait to show off my moves. Swimming's on the agenda, too, but that's more for the peace and quiet than anything else. Plus, y'know... the abs don't hurt either. Not that I'm showing them off or anything (often). Let's just say the gym sessions haven't gone unnoticed.

So, I'm walking into school with Eli beside me, both of us chatting about whatever nonsense he's got going on—he's dating this girl who's like, obsessed with spiritual energy or something. It's cute, but kind of hilarious. Then, as we step into the school hallway, I feel like I'm hit with a lightning bolt. There, at the lockers, is someone I've never seen before.

This kid—who, by the way, looks like he just walked out of some fairy-tale—is standing with a map, looking completely lost. He's got this wild, golden-blonde hair and these crazy-deep blue eyes. And he's just... standing there, like a deer in headlights. Eli sees me staring and raises an eyebrow.

"See something you like?" he smirks.

"Shut up," I mumble, feeling my face heat up. But, I mean... he's not wrong. I can't not look. Who the hell is this guy? He looks way too put together to be a freshman, but then again, he's got that first-day-of-school confusion written all over him.

Deciding I can't just stand here like an idiot, I walk over and tap him on the shoulder. "Hey, need help?" I ask, trying not to stare at his eyes too obviously. Up close, they're even more intense. Goddamn.

He glances up, and his face lights up a little, a bit shy but clearly relieved. "Uh, yeah, actually. I'm supposed to be in... uh, this room?" He holds out his schedule, and I see he's got homeroom with me.

"Perfect. We're in the same class. I'll walk you there," I offer, trying to sound cool and not like a giddy kid with a crush—which, let's be real, is what's happening here.

"Oh, thanks. I'm Louis, by the way. Louis Mercier."

"Jude Carter," I say, and damn if it doesn't sound good together. I try to shake the thought and focus on showing him around, which basically involves talking a mile a minute while he nods along. He's not much of a talker, but when he does speak, he's got this quiet, polite way about him. And he'll slip into French sometimes, almost like he doesn't realize he's doing it.

At one point, I crack a joke about how I've been here since kindergarten, so I could practically navigate the place blindfolded. He laughs, soft but genuine, and damn, that sound should be illegal. I don't think I've ever wanted to hear someone laugh as much as I do right now.

We get to homeroom, and he settles into the seat next to mine, which is not helping my self-control. I mean, he's so close I can see a few freckles on his nose. If he was anyone else, I'd be all over this chance to make friends, but with him, my brain's short-circuiting. It's like, part of me just wants to blurt out, "Hi, I'm gay, and I already have a raging crush on you," but the other part knows that would probably end in social suicide.

I can't tell if he's getting that vibe from me, though, because he just keeps listening and nodding, this calm, amused look on his face. I'd like to think he's interested, but I'm not dumb. He's new. He's polite. It's probably just friendliness.

After a while, he glances over and says, "So, you're into sports?"

"Yeah, mostly soccer. And swimming," I say, hoping that sounds kind of impressive and not just, y'know, jockish. "What about you?"

He shrugs a little. "I like reading, mostly. And I used to play tennis back in France, but not seriously." He says "France" in this beautiful accent that makes the word sound like a melody. Honestly, I'd listen to this guy recite the alphabet and probably find it charming.

We chat a little more, and I tell him about the school's clubs and stuff, hoping I don't sound like the world's most enthusiastic tour guide. He actually seems interested, though, especially when I mention the school library. By the time the bell rings, I'm pretty sure I've been talking more than him, but he's listened to every word.

As we're heading out, he suddenly turns to me and says, "Merci, Jude. You've made my first day a lot easier."

I blink, not quite prepared for the French—especially not with the accent. "Uh, you're welcome. Anytime."

As he walks down the hall to his next class, I realize I've got the stupidest grin on my face. Great. Just great. A new kid shows up with hair that looks like it's been spun from literal gold, and my brain decides, "Hey, let's fall for him!" Awesome. Totally foolproof.

I keep telling myself he's just being polite and that he's not interested like that. And even if he was, I mean, I'm barely ready to tell anyone I'm gay, let alone make some grand romantic gesture. Eli's one thing—he's chill, and he's family. But Louis? He's this gorgeous, nice kid who, let's face it, probably doesn't bat for my team.

So I'm stuck. Here I am, crushing like an idiot on the most beautiful person I've ever met, who also happens to be a sweet, quiet, book-loving mystery. And I'm probably going to be daydreaming about him for the next, oh, year or so. Fantastic.

But hey, a guy can dream, right?