Sketch - A Love Story

3 - [Dom] Marco, Xander, And Me

Marco, Xander And Me

All of a sudden, it's Friday and it's 6am. Before I'm even fully awake, I find myself walking down the street to school. I've been going to Wickham High since Year 7, so every morning I put myself on autopilot. Getting up, eating breakfast, showering, brushing my teeth, getting dressed, getting my bag ready, and being out the door by 6:45. Richie's at a Sixth Form in another school, and he doesn't get up until 8. Dad works at the airport, but recently he's been doing night shifts, so I don't really see him until Saturday.

We don't talk about Mum.

Wickham High's uniform is okay. All you Americans don't know just how lucky you are to wear whatever you want every day. The uniform is a white shirt and a navy blue blazer, with the school crest on the left. Then there's a blue tie, black trousers (skirts for girls) and black shoes. Nothing too humiliating, given that the next closest school, St Dunstan's, has red cardigans. I guess we're lucky in that sense.

It takes twenty-ish minutes to walk to school. The journey is boring as hell, but at least I get lots of fresh air. My house is on one of those horrifically cliché English county streets, with a cornershop at the end of the road, selling newspapers and milk and packets of week-old lemon sherbets. The lights flicker as I walk past, the roller shutter graffiti standing out harshly in the dark. I wouldn't go as far as to call my neighbourhood "rough", but it's certainly not a place for kids to hang out after dark.

The route to school is simple enough. Down the road, left past the cornershop, cross the road, straight, and then a right. I could take the bus - there's a stop just outside the cornershop and opposite school. Loads of my friends come from further afield: Wickham High is the best school in our area. Well, when I say best, the expectations aren't very high, because it's the only decent school around.

I reach the school gates at just past 7am. They usually open fifteen minutes from now, but Jeff – the caretaker: a zombie in both appearance and attitude – seems to be in a good mood and lets me in. I walk through the courtyard and enter the building beside the Sports Hall, before pushing open the doors to the empty canteen.

I sit down, take out my phone, find a reference from Pinterest, take out my sketchbook, and start drawing.

Now, let me get something straight. Just because I took GCSE Art does not mean I can draw. I can draw from references pretty well, but I do it in my own style. Some would call it Manga, but it's more cartoony. Big eyes, unrealistically fluffy hair, three fingered Spock hands, a huge head, and a tiny body. But doodles don't get you A*'s at GCSE. Trust me.

I start drawing a random girl with huge eyes and cat ears. I give her a pretty perfect-looking ass and draw a tail curling in the air behind her. I've moved onto the clothes by the time Marco arrives, and I grin at him silently as he sits opposite me.

"Good morning to you too, asshole." He sighs, and I snicker.

"It's Friday, Marc. Cut me some slack."

"Never." He glances at my drawing. "Jeez, how horny are you?"

I frown, tapping my pencil on the table. "Dude, that's gross."

Marco shakes his head. "You're the one drawing a sexy cat lady."

"A what?"

That's when Xander slides in a seat beside me. He's gay: everyone was there when he came out during Pride Month last year. He was our friend before, and he's still our friend now. No biggie.

"A sexy cat lady." Marco repeats, and I'm forced to show him. Xander laughs, and it echoes weirdly in the canteen.

"Thanks, guys." I chuckle. "I really appreciate your support towards my art career."

"You're very welcome," Xander smirks, taking a mocking bow, and ruffling his dyed white-blond hair. "Any time."

We're quite the squad, us three. Marco; the mixed-race dancer/rapper extraordinaire. Xander; the gay, half blind (and therefore glasses-wearing) science nerd. And me, the curly haired, dorky, aspiring artist.

From a distance, you'd say we're all gay, honestly. But that's us.