To all the people I've loved before

Chapter One

        The final bell of school rang and my heart pounded as I walked by him, his curls gently framing his rosy cheeks as he looked down to close his textbooks. I could feel my face grow warm and dashed out of the class before anyone had a chance of suspecting anything.
I was almost in the clear when I heard my name being called, so loud I couldn't act as I couldn't hear. " Connor!" A squeaky female chirped out of the crowd of people. I turned around, looking for a familiar face when I saw Zoe's smiling face approaching to me.
" Hey Connor." She said with a little smirk planted on her signature red lips.
  "  What's up with the grin?" I asked, annoyance and confusion thick in my voice.
" I saw you starring at Troye and blushing afterwards." She giggled the words out.
   "Lower your voice. Get a bullhorn while you're at it." I shush her.
  " I'm sorry. Sometimes I just forget you're not out yet, which I respect, but I think you'd be much more happy if you were at least honest with your sister, or even just your parents." She said, walking with me following her.
   " I just don't think I could do it yet." I say honestly.
  " I know you can. I'm not pressuring by all means. I want you to do it because you want to, not by force. I'm just saying your family is accepting, mostly because I think they already know, and this school, well no one cares as long as you don't steal their man or suck their dick." She said, making me push her a little to the side. " In the mean time, If you're not going to come out, get a better control on your blushing at guys. It's a little obvious. Bye Troye." She said, walking towards to her car while I parted over to my sister's, who was waiting on me in the car.
   I put my backpack in the truck and walked around to the passenger side. When I look up from buckling in my seatbelt, I see her green eyes starring at me, piercing into my heart to make it skip every other beat. A wave of guilt hits me when I see her comforting smile. This wave always hits me when I think about she doesn't know a piece of me when she thinks she knows everything.
" W-what? Why are your starring?" I stuttered out.
" I saw how you talk with Zoe. I always do. Do you like her?" She asked, her smile growing with every word.
" No, Zoe's just a friend." I said.
" Well, it was obvious you were talking about someone you like, so spill." She said, pulling out of the student parking lot.
" Um.." I said, trying to think of the first girl i could think of." Hannah. Hannah hart."
Nicola hit the breaks hard at a stop sign, turning to me with a shocked expression on my face.
" Isn't she.. The butch looking one?" She chocked out, continuing home.
" I wouldn't say butch, just she doesn't like to conform to gender roles." It wasn't a lie. Hannah wasn't brawn enough to be described as butch and dressed on the more masculine side of the spectrum.
" That's reasonable." She said, leaving the car quiet until we got home.
I dashed up the stairs until I got to my room, throwing my book-bag on my bed and sitting at my desk. I got a pen and notebook slip of paper and started to write, taking Zoe's advice on managing my crush.
I have done this 4 times before, each one more sentimental than the last. The letters stay in a grey wooden box under my bed behind clutter like clothes and scraps of paper so no one can see it from the doorway. The letter have the recipients names on them: Brittany Weaver, Hannah Hart, Kian Lawley, And Steven Webber.
    Brittany and Hannah are both beautiful girls, but the problem is just that. They are girls. Kian is on my swim team, but I realized that my attraction towards him is completely physical and that he's a totally douchebag. Then, there's Steven. I think I just liked him because he's the only out kid at our school and I thought if I came out, he'd be my only option. It's not like he's bad or anything. He's just not my first pick.

    Dear Troye,

       I don't call you Troye Sivan the same reason you don't call me Connor Joel: I'm not comfortable with it. I do call you Troye boy in a jokingly manner from time to time, but that's different. Everyone calls you Troye Sivan, but I'm the only one to call you Troye boy so it's special.
     Nicknames aside, I really like you. I don't know exactly when it happened, but I do know that it would be between when you helped me up from getting knocked down in the hall and when you paired up with me on Mr. Fredrick's Midterm exam project. That project was filled with more hours laughing and goofing off than doing actual research. The fact that we passed with a B+ still surprises me.
      Whenever I look at you, I don't see this 16 year old boy. I see this sleepy-eyed, raspy voiced, curly haired lovely being. My favorite thing about that project was how you would sing in the car on the way home. Your voice is so soulful like some powerful force blessed you on this Earth for that purpose. You would always apologize for singing louder than the radio, but I preferred it.
     Your curls frame your slender face perfectly just so that I can see the shadows of your cheekbones with everything looking like all the puzzle pieces were connected perfectly.
     Speaking of puzzle pieces, your fingers look like they connect to my hands only, but the funny thing about the pieces; They always have another piece to attach to.
    Sometimes I wonder why I crush on you. Sure, you seem like you're not straight but looks are always deceiving. Everyone's convinced I'm straight, and that is long from true. Even if you were, I'm sure you wouldn't choose me. You are so perfectly imperfect, in a way that your flaws make you even more perfect than your positive attributes, that you could probably get anyone you wanted.
    Enough with my self loathing. My feelings for you are not and may never be requited, and I'm fine with that. Unrequited feelings can
survive while once requited feelings can't. I'm sorry for probably confusing you with this.

      Warmly,

          Connor Joel Franta

      I fold the letter and write To: Troye Mellet on the front of it. I hesitate before sticking it in the box with the others, never to be sent. I feel slightly better about channeling my feelings, but every time I write a letter, I have the urge to send it. I know that would be a fatal mistake, and so , I tool the box under the bed and surround it with clothes and trash before laying back on my bed and looking at my bedroom walls, comparing them to his deep, entrancing  eyes

_____________Author's Note__________

Hello, I'd like to restate I did get inspiration for this fanfic from the book " To all the boys I've loved before. I would also like to say that I don't hold anything against Kian or any other Youtubers I mat use to look like bad guy. They are simply for connecting the story further to Youtube and dramatic purposes. Except Sam Pepper, fuck that guy.

Anyways, I have 2 short stories called " Letters unknown" and " Campfire kisses" that you can check out if you want and another fanfic called " The trip that started it all".

My best friend th-bkm is doing a version like this soon about Kpop so look forward to that if you're into that

Love ya guys,

Morgan