The school was empty, so was the parking lot, save from a faded red bicycle against the tree.
It was the weekend and for the thirteenth time I asked myself why I was here. I looked down at the message again.
Meet me at school. We need to talk.
The person who hadn't texted me for a whole freaking year, messaged and asked me to meet up at our school on weekend. Yeah, that doesn't sound suspicious.
But like some sort of lovestruck moron, which I am, I didn't even questioned it.
I walked inside and I saw him under a familiar tree, his head ducked down between his hands and his shoulders shaking. I sat down quietly beside him.
"I am sorry. They say I couldn't be your friend, I believed them. I was an idiot, I don't even deserve your friendship. Sorry, Winter." He said, his voice shaky.
I leaned my head over his shoulder, my hand going around his waist.
"Is it normal? Two guys sitting under a tree, crying and discussing emotional shit?" I asked.
He laughed through tears, "Fuck stereotypes."
I smiled, fuck stereotypes indeed.
YOU ARE READING
Half eaten apple
Short StoryIn which two boys bond over a half eaten fruit. Winter Timberlake met Jack Watson in 6th Grade when the latter asked for a half eaten apple from him. [BxB]
