Angels Can Fly (BoyxBoy)

Chapter 4

^^Penelope^^

Do you know the feeling of your heart beating out of your chest, butterflies in your stomach, your stomach doing back flips? Like, not in a good way. My eyes glanced to the grounded as a lump grew in my throat. I was feeling the most insecure I have ever felt.

If things could have been worse I felt my notebook slip out of my hand - it was as if it was going in slow motion. I attempted reaching for it but right as I did every thing went in fast-forward and it hit the ground. Hard. I had a moment of anticipation then the classroom blared a huge laugh.

It was as if they were just waiting for me to fuck up so they had some of my failure to respond to. I took a deep breath and snatched my notebook from the ground in an angry form. I felt my entire face go red with angry, but mostly embarrassment.

This was exactly like the movies - except I was the character in which everyone felt bad for. I shut my eyes harshly trying to hold back the tears, although it was tough I had managed to succeed as the laughter dialed down. One bad thing about having all eyes on me was, what do I do with my hands?

My hands were constantly moving positions: tapping the wall after someone said to shut up I stopped, on my phone then I realized what would happen if the teacher walked in, now I looking through my sketchbook - the notebook I dropped to be exact.

Art was probably the only good subject I was decent at, besides literature which I was fascinated by. My thumb raced over the sides of the paper as I flipped through the pages. There was sketches of not only famous stars but had plenty of my best friend Penelope. She was absolutely gorgeous, no matter what she thought. I loved sketching her, she didn't mind as long as I didn't show her.

She was one of the most self conscious people I've ever met. She constantly changes her hair color thinking if she doesn't change it then people will start calling it boring. Which I thought was crazy until I first hand heard it and was plain pissed at them. Colored hair? Boring? You bet I said something about her brown hair.

It's not like I hate brown hair, but it's common and she's calling Pen's red hair boring? I heard footsteps and my head snapped up to pleading in my head if it was the teacher. Shutting my notebook I heard a deep man's voice. "Hello students, I'm sorry we had a delay on things." Mr. Quinton boomed taking a glance to his left as a kid was snickering as he took a seat.

Mr. Quinton was going to continue but the pauses when he saw me. "Ah, yes, new student Mr..." He said trailing off. "Parker. Eli Parker." I stated fidgeting as all gazed transferred between Mr. Quinton and I. I held my breath as I knew the simple phrase he was going to ask. The dreaded statement any transfer student never wanted to hear.

"So tell us about yourself." He smiled. I was getting that feeling again. My heart was beating, my stomach had butterflies, it was going back flips. I felt like vomiting, I had to do a hard swallow to stop myself. In that exact moment I felt like that meme dude from vine where he's like I like turtles. I wanted to say that and run away to Canada.

"Uh, my name is Eli, like - like I said earlier." I mumbled as there were some laughs. I had to regain my breathing before speaking again. "I listen to bands like Green Day, Never Shout Never, and Slipknot." I breathed out as Slipknot Dude sat up intrigued.

"And, uh, I'm 17." I finished messing with my hands. "Great, don't pass out." Mr. Quinton joked which only made me get more anxious. Do I look like I'm going to pass out, because I kind of feel like I just might. Wow, that would be embarrassing. "Aren't you the younger brother of Dayle Parker? He tried out for the soccer team this morning." Mr. Quinton informed. Oh great now everyone is going to expect some athleticism from me.

In that moment I wanted nothing more than that memory eraser from Men In Black. I nodded frantically. "Can I sit down now?" I asked quickly feeling light headed. "Yes, you back pick one of the two seats." He pointed out, crap, this means I have to look at the class which there will be 99.9% possibility of them looking back.

I turned and saw two seats remaining, in the third and second row of four rows. I squeezed through and sat in the seat at the third row. I felt very uncomfortable trying to weave my way through because like my butt was brushing on people's desks. When I got to my destination I engulfed myself in my arms avoiding any eye contact with my head down.

"Today we are going to be doing a project report on famous authors, including the legendary Christopher Pike." Mr. Quinton stated which got me excited as I felt my body instantly pipe up looking at the teacher. Christopher Pike was absolutely extraordinary.

"Know him Mr. Parker?" Mr. Quinton asked noticing my sudden change in mood which a raised eyebrow. "Uh, yeah, a little." I nodded with a small smile. That was a lie, I know everything about Pike and probably read every book.

"Will you enlighten the class on Mr. Pike?" He asked smiling, clearly he knows found his new favorite student. Which I'm not obviously not complaining about getting good grades but if he asks me questions like this all the time I'm going to have to switch Literature classes, start fresh playing dumb next time.

"Christopher Pike. Widely know as one of the captains from Star Trek, although better known from the author of The Last Vampire Series. Which, in my personal opinion, has to be one of the greatest series in the world. Christopher even confirmed in 2013 that the company FilmNation is going to help bring the story to life in a motion picture production." I smiled, now this is a conversation I feel comfortable and confident in - a topic I know.

"Perfect." He grinned as most of the class rolled their eyes probably done with my sucking up. "Now, I was going to draw names from two bowls to match who is going to which author, but I think I might just give you Pike." He nodded writing something on a clipboard. "Thank you Mr. Quinton." I sighed in relief. I would have been pissed if someone else got my author.