Life Connection

Chapter 4: And now a flashback, Archie-Style.

First day of high school, and in a new town. The jocks are going to smell my fear before I even walk out of the house. To make matters worse, I was held back in eighth grade, so I’m going to be older than all of my classmates, and get made fun of for that. Not to mention my a(sh)-length ginger hair and my way too baby-faced features with freckles splattered all over my cheeks and nose, we won’t even get into how many wedgies I’ve already received for that.

           I walk onto the battlefield, and I can already feel the curious looks. Looks of confusion on some of the guy’s faces, probably trying to figure out what gender I am and if they should throw me in a trash can or not. Some are winking, which is flattering, but I’m avoiding eye contact and blushing as I quickly rush to a tree to lean on. All of a sudden, a skinny, lanky guy runs up to me, huffing when he finally makes it. He actually had a really cute face. Great, a boy to crush on that I’ll never have a chance with, and on top of that he’s breathing hard like we-

           “Are….are you…Arch….Archie Mercutia?” He was leaning over, hands on his knees, panting. I quirked a brow, my face permanently red from my thoughts.

           “….Yeah, why?” I practically squeaked. Oh yeah, my voice is nice and high enough, so let’s make it more feeble and high pitched, body. And no, I don’t have/use the stereotypical gay-man-voice. I hate that voice. HATE. He looked a little startled by my voice, though I don’t know why. Then he gave a sweet, warm smile, standing up straight. Oh god….

           “Name’s Peter. Peter Darket.” He offered his hand, and gave a quick wink. I died internally. “You can call me Pete.” My hand grasping the strap of my backpack had tightened to the point where my knuckles had turned white. I shakily moved my other hand and shook his. I relaxed a little when I noticed he was shaking slightly too. I wasn’t the only nervous one. But his hand was so soft, and his grip had started firm…. “You’re supposed to follow me, since I’ve been here once already. I’m a Freshman too, though, so I’m fresh meat just like you.” He grinned, a little dorky-like. It was adorable, so I couldn’t help but smile in response, but I couldn’t say anything. I refused. So he motioned me to follow him, and started showing me around, but in the end, the only thing I remembered was how cute his butt looked as I followed. “…and finally, this- this is where your Design class will be. With me!” He gave me a pat on the back and I nearly fell face first, wind knocked out of me. Holy crap that boy was strong, especially for his wimpy looks. “Ohh…heh. Sorry.”

           “…Pete, most of your classes are with me….can I just walk with you to them?” My voice was quite soft, and quiet, so I was surprised when he heard me, and was chuckling softly.

“Of course, Arch. I can call you Arch, right?” I smiled.

           “Sure.”

           Then P.E. came along.

           “Incoming, gingy!” A dodge ball suddenly was acquainted with the back my head, then my face got friendly with the floor, as well as the rest of the front of my body. I heard laughter among the jocks, and high-fives. A girl helped me up.

           “Don’t mind them, hon. Just a bunch of testosterone powered idiots with too much pride and hot air in their noggin’s to allow much room for brains. Here, tie up your hair.” She handed me a hairband. I mumbled a thank you and started to put up my hair, talking to her as I did, when another dodgeball had a talk with…some other balls. Needless to say, I was doubled over wheezing and dry heaving while a bunch of girls crowded me with worried faces, the tougher ones glaring at the guys, who were presumably bitching over losing the girl’s attention. I was suddenly pulled upright, though gently, and into a hug by a taller girl…who was busty as crap, and her boobs were sweaty, and I got some of that sweat on my face. My stomach started hurting worse, so I gently pushed her away, cheeks aflame. Which caused nearly all of the girls to Aw at me and say varying forms of ‘Look at his cheeks!!! That’s so cute!’ My face was burning so much, it felt like my skin was going to fall off. I looked to a random corner of the gym, and of course, a girl was running, the two fat-filled sacks of skin bouncing as she did.