Him and Me.

Him and Me- Fifteen.

“Hey Ty, what’s up?” I asked as I walked up to him, concerned. He was slouched on one of the benches found across the open field on the back of the school, just after the parking lot. As soon as Kyle and I said our goodbyes after laughing for a good fifteen minutes, I got a call from Tyler. He said to meet him, and he had sounded depressed. It wasn’t like him at all, and I felt an odd rush of worry sweep over me. Hurriedly I made my way to him, and here he was, looking nothing like Tyler at all. He just looked sad and it was starting to freak me out.

Sitting down beside him on the bench, I assessed his face, my eyebrows scrunched in concern. He didn’t answer for a time and we sat in silence, the freaked out feeling inside me growing by the minute. When a soft sigh escaped Tyler’s lips, that was it. I had to know what was going on.

“Is there something wrong?” My voice was the softest tone I’ve heard in a while, but it still contained a hint of frenzy, for Tyler acting like this must mean that something was very, very wrong.

Tyler just continued looking down at his hands, playing with what seemed like a powder compact. I was about to place a hand on his shoulder when I did a double take. A powder compact? What the heck is Tyler doing with a powder compact? Last time I checked, Tyler (or any guy I had ever met) did not use a powder compact. Heck, I did not use one.

My heart pounded in my chest, the sound vibrating through my ears as my overactive imagination reared its head and I slapped my hand on Tyler’s shoulder. My eyes widened and the hand I had on his shoulder tightened its hold. He looked at me with a frown on his face, obviously now annoyed by my death grip. Shaking his shoulder in an attempt to loosen my hold, he let out another sigh and slumped back further on his seat. I looked at him, my eyes still wide and I gulped.

“T-Tyler…” I said, my voice cracking. “Are you…” Paused. Licked lips. “A-are you…?” Tyler was now looking at me with a confused expression, powder compact still resting on his hand. I groaned in frustration and gestured at the compact. My face contorted as if as I was in pain, and I croaked out, “S-so, are you?!”

He just looked at me with a what the hell expression on his face, and I was very tempted then to run my hands through his hair and yank it out the roots. Of all the times he had to be at his dumbest, he had to pick now? Tyler was still looking at me, his expression turning more impatient. Oh God, he was going to make me say it. Must he subject this kind of hardship on me?

The next thing I knew, Tyler’s hands were on my shoulders and he was looking at me very intently. “Kayla,” he said in a quiet, low voice. “Are you doing drugs?”

I blinked at him, before slapping his arm and shouting, “No!”, quite indignantly. Tyler shrunk back a little, shooting me a glare while he rubbed his arm. I glared right back. Here I was, worried about this idiot and he thought I was on drugs. I huffed, and because of my slight annoyance, I blurted out my question.

“Are you gay?”

Tyler’s glare turned into surprise, then disbelief. His mouth dropped open. “Kayla, what the hell are you talking about?!” His voice was laced with incredulity, and I frowned, shrugged and simply gestured at the compact with my chin. His eyes followed suit and rested on his hand, and then his head snapped back at me, eyes wide. There was disbelief still in them, but there was hint of amusement as well. I shrugged again, my eyebrows meeting together and my face settled into a frown. Tyler waved the compact against my face, making me swat his arm away. I scowled at him as his eyes turned fully amused and he chuckled.

“So what if I am? You got a problem with that?” Tyler asked. He opened the compact and peered at his reflection, fluffing his hair and opening his mouth, wiping the corners of his lips, seemingly mimicking a woman cleaning off excess lipstick. My scowl grew at his childish display, and I swatted his arm again. He turned towards me with raised eyebrows.