What Happened in Winter [boyxboy]

Chapter Seventeen

River POV

River entered class and made a beeline to his desk. God, he was exhausted. He had spent the weekend catching up on homework and going to work at the small grocery store down the road from his apartment. River had picked up that job the moment he turned sixteen, the minimum age to work there.

He had staked out the job when he was thirteen, the weekend after his step-father broke his wrist. He would save up enough money and get his mother and sister the hell out of there. Forever. And three years later, he was hired.

"But, damn, this is getting stressful," River muttered to himself as he sat at his desk. No one was in class yet, even Kyle, who rode the same bus. Though, he did tell River he had to go "take care of some pestilent fuck that kept taking his seat in algebra." Whatever that meant. River couldn't be bothered with Kyle's fatal attraction to trouble.

With a small click, the classroom door opened and a little white paint spatter walked through the door. He yawned and wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and walked to his desk. Well, more like shuffled to his desk.

'So this is the kid Craft grew up with and Kyle is pining so hard for,' River thought, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. 'I wonder if he remembers what Craft was like as a little kid? Hmm... I wonder if he was as emotionless as he is now...' River imagined a tiny, chubby, stoic boy with thousands of star-like freckles across his face. Of course it was just a made-up version of what River thought Craft might look like as a child, but it was cute nonetheless.

"Hey, I don't think we've properly met," River initiated, leaning forward to speak with Greyson.

No response.

"Uh, my name's River. I don't think we've spoken yet," River said in confusion. 'Maybe he didn't hear me.'

Greyson didn't even look up. He was rummaging in his backpack for something, rooting around loudly in each pocket. What in the hell? Was he deaf? People like this took ten years off River's life. He hated ignorance.

"Hello? Earth to Greyson? Yeah, hey, I've been trying to get your attention. You good?" River said a tad heatedly.

Finally, the white-haired boy looked up in surprise. He stopped looking through his bag and cocked his head to the side, trying to place River. Once he remembered, his moon colored eyes lit up for a second and he smiled pleasantly. Cute, even. River was taken aback by such a genuine reaction that he didn't have the heart to be rude to him. He looked pathetic, yes. And he definitely looked like a living target for bullies. But, he had charm.

"Hi, you're River, right? I'm Craft's friend, Greyson. It's nice to meet you," Greyson kept smiling. River's frown lightened up at the openness of this boy. He was a lot friendlier and polite than River had imagined.

"I'm River. I'm also Craft's friend." River suddenly had a flashback to Craft holding him in the graveyard and asking if he could ever fall in love again. That memory had been popping up in River's mind constantly over the past few days, always at the most inconvenient times.

"Friends, huh?" Greyson said coyly, the corners of his lips drawing upwards even more.

"Y-yeah. Friends. Just friends," River said, his tone defensive but not rude.

"Well, I'm glad you and Craft were able to become friends. Anyone who's friends with Craft can be my friend, too," Greyson said cheerfully.

'He's intuitive and cares about Craft. He's definitely a good friend to have. It would be good to befriend him since he's close to Craft and Kyle,' River thought.

River gave his most genuine smile and said, "I'll gladly take you up on that offer, then."

Greyson POV