The Hawthorne Effect (BoyXBoy)

Chapter 1 - Cliches.

Cliches.

I've always fucking hated them. Wow, two sentences in and I've already sworn - nice one Dan, nice one.

Okay anyway, where was I? Oh yeah - the dreaded cliches. You know when you're watching X Factor, and it's showing someone's confessional and they're like "This entire experience has been such a dream come true, and I'm not ready to go home"?

Those.

Those stupid little sentences of predictability make me roll my eyes until I have a migraine. I hate them. Which is pretty ironic when you think that my entire life has become a cliche as of late. In this little story type thing, I'm gonna take you through the last few months and how one boy changed everything for me. So, sit down, grab a snack and prepare yourself for a journey of love, heartbreak, more heartbreak and cliches.

The Hawthorne Effect, pronounced 'hore-thorn', is a type of reactivity in which individuals modify an aspect of their behavior in response to their awareness of being observed. (Y'all can thank Wikipedia for that one).

I learnt about this phenomenon in Sociology earlier this year. If there's one thing I'll remember from my dreary Sociology lessons for the rest of my life, it'll be this I bet you. I remember it because of one, particular person... Charlie fucking Hawthorne.

Charlie Hawthorne is a popular jock in my sixth form who also happens to be in all of my classes. He's tall, rather muscular and fucking beautiful as shit.

He's the type of guy who thinks that all he has to do is look at a girl in the corridor and her vagina suddenly becomes a miniature Niagara Falls. He's the type of guy who's main goal this year is to have sex in his new car within the first week of owning it. He's the type of guy who, if he accidentally brushed his hand past one of his entourage's hands, would immediately cry 'Uh... no homo bro!' before running into the nearest toilet cubical and jacking off to some lesbian porno in order to 'prove his masculinity'. He's the type of guy who... you know, I could literally do this all day, so I'm gonna stop there.

My point is, The Hawthorne Effect, is all about acting different because someone is in the room. His last name is Hawthorne, and I act differently whenever I have the stressful task of sharing a lesson with him. Why?

Because I'm in love with that piece of shit.

Again... why?

Well, I've never really had a crush on somebody. Firstly, I hate humans. Secondly, gross.

I mean, I've liked a few people. But I've never been in love with someone before.

Yet, there's something about Charlie that attracts me to him.

His looks... yeah I guess I'm attracted to those. His cute little stutter he does when he gets nervous... yeah maybe that. The fact that I feel like there's more to him than just this fuckboy facade... BINGO.

You see, I'm attracted to mystery. I like to think I see more to a person than other people see. And with Charlie, I know there's more to him than what meets the eye.

I mean, come on, no one can actually be that cocky and insufferable and it be who they really are - well, accept for Jake Paul that is.

I see Charlie two out my three periods - Sociology and Media. In Sociology, he's 110% dickhead. He doesn't work, he's loud, he's dependent on attention from the class, he's always shouting across the room to his friends, he's never doing his homework etc. etc. etc.

However, in Media Studies, he's a completely different boy.

My Media class has 4 students, with Charlie and myself included in that figure. We call ourselves the 'Media Family' because we're all, somewhat, friends and, somehow, all like each other.

I say somewhat friends because I'm more of an outsider in that group. The others all are already friends or are friends of friends. Me, I'm sort of just... there.

But, anyway, in this class, Charlie is much more reserved.

He's smart, caring, respectful, creative and he's not constantly on the prowl for attention.

I've come to realise that this is probably because his entourage aren't part of this lil' group we share. Once again, linking into this whole Hawthorne Effect thingy.

When his friends are in the room, Charlie goes from this cuddly ball of cuteness, to a wanna-be-road-man who has the IQ of a fucking Nat at best.

But he becomes quite the opposite when they leave.

Unfortunately, this doesn't seem to put me off him because I've had a thing for him since I had to sit next to him last year in GSCE Science. He used to ask me for paper every single lesson and would always shoot me this cute little smirk whenever I tore 2 pages out of my notebook and placed it in his rather large, manly hands.

I don't know why I even bothered handing him paper since he only used to write his name and the fucking date on the page before ignoring the teacher all lesson and text his friends instead - most of whom were in the same classroom as him.

But, anyway, the annual handing of the paper fiasco was enough for me to fall in love.

Hence, the cliche of a high-school nobody falling in love with a popular high-school jock soon becoming my life.

Anyway, fast forward to sixth form.

On the first day back when I found out that he would be in most of my classes, I nearly threw myself out of the maths corridor window.

I had spent that whole summer after GCSE's hoping, no, PRAYING that that boy would not stay at Sixth Form like I was going to do, and that he was going to run off to a college somewhere far, far away from me.

But no.

I'm pretty sure God has some kind of fucked up sense of humor and finds comedic pleasure with making my life a fucking nightmare.

Jesus Christ, I'm nearly one chapter in and I haven't even started the story yet. Okay Daniel, come on, let's not leave this cute lil reader in suspense and let's get on with the story.

I, Dan Adams, am currently sitting behind my laptop and I'm planning to tell the world the story of my journey with Charlie Hawthorne, and how it all ended.

Stick around readers, as I will now take you through my story, chapter by chapter. So, grab another snack, and lets start this shit.