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〖 chapter one ⋆the pretender 〗
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He looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was put back, nice and neat as it always was, and he was wearing a simple tee. His face was clear, which was nice for the first day back at school, and his backpack matched the maroon shirt. He heard his phone buzz but made no effort to go towards it. It was probably just his mom telling him to come down and eat breakfast.
Exhaling, he smiled to himself in the mirror. It seemed genuine, at first glance, and that was all he needed. A first glance. Rarely did anyone look further than that, they saw just enough to know that he was happy. Or seemed to be anyway. But he was, for the most part. He had a great family and a nice home. He had money from his summer job. He was applying to colleges and, hopefully, he would get into his dream one. He had a spot on the soccer team and friends that, for the most part, were pretty great. He had a good life, and therefore he was happy.
For the most part.
And he was happy because summer been wonderful, better than any summer before. He had spent it with his two best friends, served ice cream and ate more of it, enjoyed the city for its beauty. He had met a nice guy, became friends with him, and so what if he got involved a bit? And so what if it mattered a lot to him?
His phone buzzed again. He tore his gaze away from the mirror and the smile fell, the light he forced in his eyes gone. Going to his bed, he picked up his phone and checked to see who texted him. As he looked, he smiled. A real, fully genuine smile that he couldn't contain because it wasn't his mother; it was this guy. His summer fling. Well, not fling because they had made it official, but he was still a summer...something. A summer greatness.
"Garrett! Breakfast is ready!" he heard his mother downstairs. Sending a text back to his boyfriend, he yelled back that he was coming.
He pocked his phone and passed the mirror again. He smiled. He was happy – he was more than happy. He was. Still, he swallowed and dropped his smile, opening up his door and heading downstairs where his mother and sister were.
"Sup," he greeted them, placing his bag near the table before sitting down with his younger sister. "You excited for your first day of high school?"
His sister, Laurel, rolled her eyes before taking a bit out of her toast. "Don't remind me," she mumbled before turning to tease him, "You ready for your last first day of high school?"
Garrett grinned at her. "You know it," and he truly meant it. Going to the same place with the same people, no big change (unless you counted last year when Liz Allan's father was outed as a criminal), and doing the same thing. He was branded as a jock, a popular kid, since he was a freshman and started soccer and it stayed that way ever since. It never changed and he felt like he couldn't change throughout the years. Not really. Not drastically.
