I sit on the bleachers watching as all the stupid conformist run around on the field.
I'm only here for one reason, and there's only two of us who know that.
I walk down the bleachers and head underneath them.
I wait for him to show up, I know he always does.
I lean against the support beam underneath the seats and stare up at the bars.
"Firkle," I look back and see Ike standing there.
He's still in his uniform and he looks really sweaty.
"Ike."
He walks closer to me and cups my face with one hand, before he kisses me.
I kiss back slowly reaching my hand up and placing it on his shoulder.
He pushes me further against the beam and I wrap both of my arms around his neck.
His hands go down to my hips, his right hand sneaking up my shirt.
He traces over my stomach and my ribs, stopping to grip high up on my side.
I let my left hand run through his hair.
He pulls away for to breath, and I pant a few times.
"Ike?!" We hear from the field.
"Your girlfriends looking for you," I say slowly unwrapping my arms and letting them rest on his chest.
"I don't want to deal with her," he says leaning his face into my shoulder.
I move my arms to wrap around him.
"You're the idiot that can't choose."
Ike just nods before letting me go.
"Bye, Ike."
"Bye Firkle."
