Language of Love

New Student

My name is Salvatore Graham and I'm a Junior at Eagle River High School. We are rapidly approaching the week of finals of the second of three terms this school year and I have a very distinct pattern that goes something like this: First hour, gawk at guys; second hour, gawk at guys; third hour--well, you get the idea. There's a lot of gawking throughout the day, because, to be quite frank, there's quite a lot of gawk-worthy people, probably the most gawk-worthy would be Lou Reibich, who, unfortunately, is only in two of my eight classes. Nobody seems to think he's gay except for me. Maybe it's just wishful thinking on my part.

If you're wondering whether or not I'm out of the closet, the answer is NO. The thing about ERHS is that the people who go here really suck at being worthwhile human beings. I know, that given the chance, the people who walk these halls, some of whom I would even call my "friends" would turn on me in an instant and I'd kinda rather avoid that, so...

Anyway, once I get to my first hour I immediately notice something different. Well, someone different, though honestly, he'd be hard to miss. At the teacher's desk stands a six foot pole of gorgeousness. Aside from being really freaking tall, he has a face that could have been painted by Michelangelo himself. He's also skinny but muscular and has these beautiful hands with long, slender fingers.

Before my brain can tell my legs no, my heart decides to take over so we can go introduce ourselves.

As I walk up, Mme. Roche, is finishing up introducing Mr. Pole to French I, "-and I'll see where I can seat you, you'll probably sit next to Salvatore."

"Hmm?" I say without thinking, since, after all, I did hear my name.

"Smooth, real smooth, Sal, now Mr. Pole is gonna think you're some sort of dope." I think to myself.

"Oh, hello, Salvatore, I was just telling our new student, Alexander, that he is going to sit next to you in this class, did you have a question?" She asks.

"N-no, I-I-I just wanted-d to say h-hello to h-him. I-I thought he was new, so..."

"Keeping the smooth train going, nice job, Sal."

"Well you seem very nice, good to meet you, Salvatore," he says as he smiles all big, showcasing his set of perfect teeth.

I open my mouth to speak but no sound comes out. I try to speak again before, thankfully, Mme. Roche interjects quickly, "Salvatore, why don't you go show Alexander where he sits?"

Despite the fact I've not officially come out, I still feel like everybody knows already.

He and I walk back to my seat as the bell rings for the beginning of first hour.

"Bonjour, class!" Mme. Roche says brightly, "Aujourd'hui, nous avons un nouvel étudiant. What did I just tell you?"

Without thinking I shout out, "Today, we have a new student."

"Shut up! You're gonna make him think you're a know-it-all and a teacher's pet!"

"Très bien, Salvatore!"

I half smile because I feel like Alexander's going to think I'm a know-it-all, but instead he tells me, "Nice one, Salvatore!" And smiles all big.

"Alexander, est-ce que vous voulez décrivez-vous?"

"Oui, bien sûr. Je m'appellle Alexander, mais je préfère qu'on m'appelle..." He stops when it's obvious that nobody in the room can understand anything he's saying--aside from me. "Okayy, I guess I'll tell you about me in English then. My name is Alexander, but I go by Lex; I play football, lacrosse, and basketball; I love music, I play the saxophone; and, uh, I'm gay." He sits down as people are rolling their eyes and someone on the other side of the room mutters something about a faggot while I'm already fantasizing about our wedding.