BoyxBoy One Shots

Bring Me to Life

Bring Me To Life

I sighed and repositioned my throw over bag as I made my way through the empty school halls.

“Who even invented Mondays?” I asked, addressing no one in particular.

I wasn’t expecting an answer, so I jumped violently when I heard a deep voice behind me.

“I’m with you there, Mondays suck.”

I whirled around and came face to face with the last person I expected. Ryan Connors stood there in all his testosterone laden glory. The football captain was in his gear, evidently just coming in from practice. I couldn’t help myself as I gave him a quick once over.

He took off his helmet and put it under the crook of his arm, leaving his jet black hair a mess. It actually made him look even better, if that was possible.

“R-Ryan,” I stammered, “I … wha …”

I opened and closed my mouth repeatedly as I tried to make a coherent sentence. The jock chuckled at this.

“Something wrong? You look like a fish.”

Blushing a deep crimson, I shook my head and looked away.

“It’s Kalan, right? Kalan Dean?”

My head shot up, “You know my name?”

Ryan looked bemused, “Yeah … Should I not?”

“No, no,” I responded quickly, “It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

I hesitated, “I usually just avoid people; I didn’t know anyone knew my name.”

The jock sent me a sly smile, “Well, I’m not just anyone.”

This puzzled me, but in the end I decided it was just him being cocky. Then he dropped another bomb.

“You should try for the team.”

My mouth fell open in an ‘O’, and when I got over the shock I shook my head vigorously.

“No, no way, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

I sighed, “I … just can’t.”

He nodded, “Okay, well there’s a position open that I think you would like, c’mon.”

He grabbed me by the hand and started dragging me down the hall. Butterflies erupted in my stomach and sparks danced across my skin at the contact.

“W-where are we going?” I asked nervously.

“To talk to coach.”

He led me in the direction of the gym, continuing through it and exiting the school. We crossed the tarmac and the soccer field, finally stopping in front of a small building that I knew housed the lockers and showers used by the sports teams.

“Wait here,” Ryan said before disappearing through the door.

I stood in the cold September air, hugging myself and wondering what on earth he was doing. My breath came out in wispy, white clouds.

Several minutes later, the door swung open again, startling me.

Ryan gave me a sheepish look and stepped outside fully. He had traded his football gear in favour of a tight grey t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a red baseball cap.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

I offered a small smile, “It’s okay.”