Boys Are Dogs

Chapter One - Collin POV

A/N -- This is my first boyxboy story, and I'm not that good at writing stuff that isn't fantasy/dystopian, but I'm going to try my best at keeping up with this. Hopefully, I will stick with it. :)

Let's just say that I did not want to be here. Not one bit.

Malia was dragging me through the crowd of sweaty, hormonal teenage bodies, and it made me insanely uncomfortable. This mixed with the pungent odor of alcohol that hung in the air like a fog make me gag. Why did I agree to do this?

Malia yanked me through the throng of people, crossed the dance floor and greeted the bartender.

"Go right ahead, honey," the bartender remarked as soon as she saw Malia.

Malia nodded her head and vaulted herself over the counter, her long chocolate brown hair nearly dragging in the alcohol spilled all over the surface. I didn't understand what she was doing.

"Mali...." I began, only to be cut off.

"Just shut up will you," Malia purred, "I'm not up to anything dangerous or stupid. Just trust me."

I wanted to respond, but I held my tongue. I didn't know what she was doing, but I did trust her. I took a seat on one of the scratched stools at the bar, waiting.

"What would you like?" a sweet voice questioned me.

I looked up from my hand, which I had been fidgeting with out of nervousness. The bartender looked down at me with a soft gaze. "I'll just take a water, please."

"You sure honey? You look like you could use something a little heavier."

"Nah, I don't drink."

"Okay honey, I'm not gonna pressure you," the bartender responded, and handed me a bottle of water.

I took a shaky sip. Where was Malia, and why the hell did she drag me all the way out here?

*****

I could feel the cold metal through my jeans as I sat on the bench, waiting for Malia. She was taking too long doing whatever crazy thing she was doing, and I just couldn't stand being in that club any longer. You see, I may be the most popular guy at school, but I have severe anxiety, which not many people know about.

I was just about to go back into the club and search for her when she popped up out of nowhere. I yelped and dropped my water bottle, watching it roll to the curb. I turned my head towards her.

"One of these days, I'm gonna sock you in the face when you do that," I warned, trying to sound threatening, but instead sounded somewhat amused.

"Yeah, and if you sock me in the face," she countered, "I'll have you turned in to the police for domestic violence."

I knew she wasn't serious. The smile that played on her lips gave it away.

After a few seconds of silence, she pulled a wrapped object from behind her back.

"Happy Birthday," she quietly whispered.

My jaw dropped. She knew.

"How'd you know?" I questioned.

"Your mom..." she began but didn't finish her sentence.

I took the object from her outstretched hand, curious about the odd shape.

"Open it," she pressed.

I gently tore the wrapping paper off of the oddly shaped object. What lay inside truly shocked me. It was a collage of a bunch of pictures that she had of us together. Some of them I remembered taking, some I didn't. But I could feel the true emotion and feeling that Malia had put into it. I felt tears start welling up in my eyes.

"Thank you," I whispered. And I really meant it. I usually told everyone that I didn't want anything for my birthday, so they usually got me gift cards or something similar to be kind. But this was something else. I felt truly touched that she would make something like this for me.

"You're the bestest friend I could have ever asked for," I expressed, pulling her into a fierce hug. I held on for as long as I could without making it awkward.

I pulled away, smiling. I didn't know what I would do without Malia. She was my best friend and she has pulled me out of some dark places.

"Do you need a ride?" I asked. "I need to be home in time to sleep before 6am practice."

"I'd love a ride," she answered, and got into my car.

The drive home was fun. Malia decided it would be a good idea to find the Spanish radio station and try to sing along, which turned out to be extremely hilarious. I nearly crashed the car three times from laughing so hard. She made me happy.

I pulled into Malia's driveway. I turned to her and locked eyes with her. Her eyes were the most piercing shade of blue. It made me shiver. She interrupted my thought process.

"You can tell me anything. You know that right?" she stated.

"Yeah. I know." I replied softly.

"Okay. Goodnight Collin. Love you," she said as she hopped out of my beat up car.

"Love you. Thanks for the gift. It really means a lot."

She just nodded her head, and ran inside, making sure to close the front door softly.

*****

I stepped into my room, closing the door quietly. I looked around. My room was a mess, but still bearable. The fairy lights I had hung were falling off the wall. My Real Madrid posters were all starting to curl up. My bed was a mess of blankets and pillows, but that's how I preferred it. I swiftly changed into pajamas and hopped into bed, quickly snuggling into my blankets.

I was just about to fall asleep when my phone dinged. I grabbed my phone and looked at the notification with squinted eyes.

"Derek Lincoln added you to the Groupchat: 'Party Friday Night - everyone is invited'"

I assumed that meant that my girlfriend Vanessa was already in the chat.

I sighed and rolled over, thinking about the party. Did I even want to go? It was just going to be filled with Derek's hippie friends.

For some insanely odd reason, I couldn't stop thinking about Derek. I put it off as my mind being delirious from lack of sleep and rolled over. I was almost asleep when my stupid brain decided to bring up Derek again. This time my stomach fluttered and I sat up straight. Why was my brain caught up on Derek fucking Lincoln?

"You're not even gay," I told myself, and rolled over, letting sleep consume me.