Art Project

School kingdom

Kris

     Twenty-eight other students in my art class yet I somehow get paired up with Tyler Case of all people!

     Huh, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap.

     He's coming this way— he's going to murder me and blame it on the janitor. I can see it now. Best selling articles titled: Dead child found in Janitor closet with a mustache drew below his nose.

     "What're you doing, fag." Tyler smirked at me.

       Oh my gosh. I was just staring at him. Blushing, I forced my hands down and stared at my feet, wishing the floor would swallow me whole.

     He's going to think I have a crush on him now.

     Great.

    "Uh, Kris? You're blushing." Tyler smirked.

     Yep. He thinks I have a crush on him.

    "Um, hey. What do you want?"

   It was weird talking to Tyler. I was this weird loner and he was a hot football player. Our places in the school kingdom were significantly different. It was our roles; jocks are the kings, cheerleaders are the queens. You can take it from there.

"I'm talking to you because we need to get an A on the project." He rolled his eyes. "We're going to be at my house a lot."

"Oh." I blushed. Duh. Why else would he talk to me?

"Can't wait," He chuckled.

~

        

   

    It was later in the school day when Tyler started towards me again. I hurried down the hallway with him right on my heels. I squeaked when someone grabbed the back of my shirt and sent us falling down.

I sat up on Tyler's stomach. Why does this stuff always happen to me? Awkward had to be some some evil god out to get me. And he must love gay people too— or hate them considering my life so far.

"What do you want, Tyler?" I huffed.

"You need to come to my house." He said matter-of-fact.

"Now? Shouldn't you have told me like a day before or something?"

"I told you earlier, didn't I? Now c'mon." He sat up and I nearly fell over if he hadn't grabbed me. I whined the whole way to his car.

"I hate you so much right now."

"Aw, that's so cute." He pinched my cheek. "You really think I care."

Jerk.

I hit his arm. "Don't touch my face."

"Why? Because you liked it?" He teased.

"Hmph."

     The car ride went by in teasing and arguments. Sometimes we were friends and sometimes we were born to be arch enemies.

     Tyler's house stood two stories high, a soft white color, the roof brown, and the front door a bright red. Colorful flowers paralleled the porch stairs and lined the windows, bringing out the true beauty of the home.

        I stepped out of the car and onto enemy territory.