It's Not Her //Boyf Reinds//

Chapter One

   Soft moans and grunts filled the room of teenage Jeremy Heere. The young man was palming himself through his boxers, face red, trying to create enough friction so his problem would stay. A tube of lube layed across his bed, bunched up tissues beside it.

Lewd images filled his mind as he 'patiently' awaited his porn to load.
Sweat was starting to pool in odd places, sticking his hair to his forehead, his face losing it's soft rosy color, instead being replaced by a more angry tone.

" C-c-c'mon! Go! Go! Load you stupid piece of wires!" He yelled at his computer, sighing in exasperation.

The screen buffered, before turning off. With a groan, he slammed his laptop shut, taking a discarded tissue and wiping his hands, and tugged on his pants, feeling quite uncomfortable.
His fingers found his favorite blue cardigan, which had been draped over a chair, in a quick motion, it was on him.

He sucked in a breath, pulling his belt around him as tight as it would go, hopefully giving him a more skinny-around-the-middle, look.
Jeremy quickly laced up his shoes, yanking his backpack off the ground and rushing to the bathroom. He entered the bathroom and let out a high-pitched screech at the site of his father, pantsless.

" Dad!" Jeremy exclaimed in a still-high voice, " haven't you heard of pants!"
Paul Heere glanced at his son, ignoring the smell of lube that still lingered.
" We're all men in this house! Just, uh, pretend we're in the army!"

His son rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning against the sink. " Just, have pants on when I get home, okay?"

The older Heere saluted, smirking, " ten-hut!"

Jeremy grimaced and hurriedly left the bathroom, grabbing an apple and mint from their kitchen. As he took a bite from the, unbearable, sour apple, he tapped his foot.

Well, since my dad obviously isn't going to drive me to school, should I take the bus or walk instead? The boy thought to himself.

Heat started to creep up his face, making Jeremy mentally curse. Anytime the awkward boy would get nervous, his whole face would go red. He took a deep breath, trying to stay calm.

A junior on the bus is killer weak, he thought, walking out his front door, but if I walk, when I arrive I'm gonna straight up reek!

His face scrunched up in disgust as he imagined himself walking down the halls, his pits leeking and his boxers bunching up.

The bus came barreling down his street, and he made the quick decision to get on it.

His nose twitched as the smell of horny teenagers filled his senses. His blue eyes scanned the rows of familiar classmates until he found his only friend, his best friend, Michael Mell. The boy swiftly sat by his Player One, poking his arm.

Michael annoying looked at him, his mouth opening to say 'what', before breaking into a smile.

" Hey dude," Michael said, softly. Jeremy raised an eyebrow, only now catching the slightly stronger smell of weed on his friend. " Michael, are you seriously going to school high?"

" Yeah, but it's alright! I drank some milk," he giggled.

" Jesus Christ, Micha, you're just like that one senior stoner kid."

The smaller boy frowned, grumbling,
" Connor isn't that bad..."

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   Soon, the bus stopped in front of their school. Jeremy and Michael were the last ones off, not wanting to touch the other students. The tall boy attempted to flatten his hair, and the other stared at him, Jeremy unaware of his stare.