Firsts and Lasts- Kliensen

The First Time They Knew

Thank you for continuing to read!! I love these two, so if you have any Kliensen prompts, I NEED THEM.

---15 Years Old---

---Evan---

I glance at Jared, who's smile makes me duck my head even though it's not for me and it's not even a full smile because mostly, Jared looks bored, because at least at school, which is pretty much the only place I see him, he's bored.

If he's bored with those other guys, would he be less bored with me or even more bored-? No, wait, I don't want to think about that because I think about Jared too much already.

Like, way, way too much, and I'm not even able to stop staring at him because what if maybe- maybe- he'll look over at me with those offhandedly beautiful eyes- pretty and flecked with color in rich green-blue-hazel, plus that perfect little island of brown in his eye.

I looked it up once and google said it was called heterochromia, which at the self discovering age of 13 I thought was kind of funny since Jared is very straight and I- who don't have heterochromia- am not because it just so happened that I had had my first panic attack recently and it was triggered by my not-knowing until I figured out I'm bi.

As in bisexual.

But as I'm watching, hoping that he might look up because I really, really like his eyes, he actually does and part of me wishes he hadn't because I feel something and oh my god, I can't look away and his smile drops a little because I won't stop staring because I feel something.

What is it? When I figure out, I regret it because I have a crush on Jared Kleinman, which totally makes sense. It hurts because it won't ever be good for me, but even more than hurting, I'm holding my breath and wrenching my gaze away or else he might find out and if he finds out-

The oddest thing happens to me and I fall back into myself, feeling all of me as if I haven't before- my whole body heats up and my eyes are so wide they might be watering and my breath isn't going and I think I'll pass out, and Jared is staring at me. And I think he knows and I can't have that, so I raise my hand and everyone goes quiet and looks at me because they think I don't talk that much- they have no idea- and I ask to use the restroom and I walk quickly out of the room, my fingers needing something to do.

I open the door and the sunlight streams in from the outdoor hallway, but it isn't as light as Jared's smile, even though it's brighter.

---Jared---

Connor Murphy, the rich psychopath, calls Evan a name as he leaves. That leaves pretty much just me and Evan standing there, each waiting for our families to come pick us up.

Evan doesn't take the bus. It's because he gets nervous around people. He doesn't like interacting with the bus people and he doesn't like the crowded buses.

"Hey, Evan." I swagger up to him and let the strap of my backpack hang off one shoulder.

"Hey Jared." Evan doesn't stop staring at his fingers, which are fumbling around nothing.

"So here's the scoop: My parents say that since I got my learners, they'll pay for my car insurance as long as you tell your mom I'm nice to you, okay?" I pat him on the back-shoulder.

Evan steps back and my hand flutters down hopelessly. "Are you actually going to, though? Be nice to me, I mean. Because you're not. Really." I stare at him, and he rushes to amend the statement. "I mean, look, I- nevermind. Forget I said that."

"Evan," I try, and he looks up. And his fingers are tugging wildly on his shirt, and his cheeks have gone all red. And my heart. Just. Stops.

I want to kiss him. Desperately, unreasonably, and completely randomly want to kiss him.

Sure, I've had moments before, but now all the things I've noticed make sense.

Like the way I always feel more aware when Evan is in the room. Or the way my eyes find him every time the lighting changed so I can see his hair turn from blonde to brown or back the other way.

Whoa.

This insane. Breathtakinging, exquisitely insane.

But also breathtakingly, exquisitely painfully impossible.

Evan? Liking me? Trump would sooner marry a trans man. I treat him terribly. I've treated him terribly. And, let's face it, I'm still going to treat him terribly because I can't be nice, sweet, or romantic for my life.

"Jared?!" I can hear Evan's breath now, which means he's nervous. Like, very freaking out nervous.

I can't even stare without triggering Evan's alarms.

I will never ever kiss him. Or tell him how I feel. Or smile at him.

The poor guy might have a heart attack.

Not to mention poor me might (will) get a broken heart.

I shake my head and tap his nose. He jerks back. Of course he does.

"Nothing. Just seeing if I can talk to you. Which, of course, I can't. I mean, do you even understand how pathetic you are?" When in doubt, don't give a shit about anyone's feelings. Ever. "God, I feel like I'm talking to a lamp post."

"Shut, shut up, Jared," Evan walks away, his shoulders pulled up around him like a shield.

X X X

That became the last time in a long time they let themselves stare.

Thank you again for reading!! I have nothing to say, really. Boring life, as always. With the addition of very good food.

                   -The Worst Writer on Wattpad