By The Way, I Love You

| Chapter 1 |

Tristan Rhett Stevens was the quarterback of his football team, at Ruth Bader Ginsburg High School. He was the star of his own show, and everyone else was a side character. He never thought he was particularly mean, but he was stuck in that 'asshole jock' persona no matter how hard he tried. Tristan had a 4.0 GPA, and he worked hard to do well in school. He knew he was attractive, his genes were never a curse to him. He was tall, around six foot four, and he was handsome. His eyes were a deep shade of jade green, his hair was dark brown and curly, and his skin was a soft tan color, darkened over the summer as he spent his days out in the sun at summer camp and football practice. He hated the few freckles that laid on his nose, but he learned to make them a part of his look, and found that it made him only more attractive to the girls at his school. Tristan had glasses, but he hated them. He stuck to contacts, and was increasingly blinder every single time that he fell asleep with them in. 

Tristan had a girlfriend, a beautiful girl named Molly. She was sweet, and he was sure he loved her, but he loved having her by his side more. She only boosted his popularity as the captain of the volleyball team, and he wanted to be popular. He had a large following on all of his social medias, and was starting to grow as popular as some of the boys he'd seen on the apps before. He had what he wanted, and he thought he was happy. 

Miles Henry Hammond was almost the complete opposite of Tristan. Miles was shorter, maybe five foot nine, and only recently grew. He had been barely five feet tall for the past three years. Miles was a "nerd", or so he'd been told. He preferred reading over interacting in person, his nose always buried in a book. He didn't have many friends, and felt the least lonely with a book in his hands and a fictional world filling his imagination. Miles never really found himself attractive, and he had never really cared about his looks before. But he had noticed that over the summer, he'd changed. He finally started growing real facial hair, and his eyebrows had grown thicker. His mother had told him many times that his voice had gotten deeper and he knew he'd grown a lot, all of his jeans were like capri pants now. His mom made him get new clothes, something that he'd never enjoyed doing. 

Miles was smart, and he never missed a day of school in his life, other than the time he got the flu in second grade. He had light brown hair, dark brown eyes, and a slim figure. He had perfect vision, and was glad that he'd never needed glasses before. He didn't think he'd look good with glasses. He didn't have much muscle, but his thighs and calves were strong from years of marching band. He had played the flute since sixth grade, and he'd marched it since ninth grade. He was section leader, and he was good at the flute. He was good at a lot of things, but at fitting in. 

Tristan and Miles had been next door neighbors since they were babies. They'd had playdates since they were old enough to sit up by themselves. Their moms had been best friends, and they saw each other as much as possible. They grew up together. They spent their childhood riding bikes around the block, and as they got older they started to play video games in Miles' room or football in Tristan's backyard. They had always been close, and even after growing apart during high school, they still said hi to each other in the hallways. The sleepovers stopped. They were common as children, spending almost every weekend together at one of their houses. Miles missed those sleepovers. Tristan missed those sleepovers too. But neither of them had the time anymore. And sleepovers were childish. 

Tristan and Miles hadn't seen each other over the summer. They were both so busy. Miles had band camp and his summer job at the local library. Tristan had football practice, his girlfriend's volleyball games, and his job at the local supermarket, where his mom worked as her first job. They only saw each other a few times over the summer when one of them was getting into their car and the other was getting out. They shared a quick wave and went on with their day. They had no time to stop and talk. But now they were about to start their senior year, and they were both ready to get the year over with. 

Miles walked downstairs. It was time for his first day of school. He was prepared to be right on time. He stopped in the kitchen, where his entire family was. His mom, Tara, turned around and smiled at him. "You excited for your first day of senior year?" She asked. Miles shrugged, grabbing a granola bar and a bottle of water. "Same as always, isn't it?" He asked. His dad, who was making the eggs, turned to look at him. "Maybe. But it is your SENIOR YEAR. I was so excited for my senior year." He said. Miles scoffed. "Yeah. We know that because the result of your excitement is upstairs sleeping off her hangover from the night before." Miles' mom hit him with a spatula gently, glaring at him. "Don't say that." She said. He shrugged. "Just stating the truth. You ready to go, dummy?" He asked, looking at his little brother. His little brother nodded and they went to his car, where his other sister was leaning against the car and reapplying her lipstick. "Fucking finally." She muttered. Miles elbowed her, throwing his backpack into the backseat. "Shut up, Lilly."  

Miles had a big family. In some people's eyes, anyways. His parents, Tara and Michael, were high school sweethearts. They had his older sister, Charlie, when they were seniors in high school. Charlie was twenty one and made sure that the whole house knew when she stumbled in drunk at three in the morning. Miles was born a few years later, and he was approaching his eighteenth birthday. His younger sister, Lilly, was born after him. She was sixteen and obsessed with her look, something that Miles wished wasn't a problem. He'd seen what it'd done to the girls at his school. He had two younger brothers. The older of the two was Mikey. He was nine years old and obsessed with skating. His youngest brother was Alex, who was almost a year old and only focused on chewing anything that he could get his hands on. Miles loved his family, but sometimes they drove him crazy. The first day of school was definitely one of those times. 

Tristan went downstairs to find his house empty. There was a note from his mother, who was a nurse, explaining that she got called in early. He read over the note and smiled at the drawing of a smiley face on the bottom. He grabbed a cookie and a protein shake, making his way to the front door. He went out to his car. He looked over and saw Miles talking to his sister, elbowing her out of the way. He smiled. Miles had gotten taller over the summer. 

Tristan yelled, waving at Miles. "Hey, Hammond!" He yelled. Miles looked up, smiling at Tristan. "Hey, Tristan!" He replied, waving back to him. He immediately cursed himself for sounding so stupid. Tristan smiled. "I'll see you at school?" He asked. Miles nodded. "Of course." They smiled at each other, staring at each other for maybe a moment too long, and got into their cars. Tristan pulled out of his driveway, on his way to pick up Molly. Miles started the car and drove to drop his siblings off at school. Miles and Tristan's thoughts were almost simultaneous. Miles had noticed that Tristan had gotten more muscular over the summer. His curls were grown out, which was uncommon for his old friend. Tristan's tan was darker due to the hours he must've spent at the beach over the summer. Miles didn't really understand why he noticed these things, why his eyes traveled to the swell of Tristan's ass, but it was all he could think about. Tristan, meanwhile, was thinking about Miles. Miles had certainly gotten taller, that much was clear. He had cut his hair short, and it framed his face nicely. Tristan noticed the way that Miles' body suddenly filled his clothes, how even his slim arms had an indication that there was muscle hidden beneath the sleeves of his shirt. Tristan noticed that Miles had a charming smile even though he kept it hidden most of the time. Tristan had even noticed that there was a slight bulge in Miles' pants, and he refused to acknowledge that he had noticed it as he pulled into Molly's driveway. 

Neither of the boys saw each other as they did when they were younger. And neither Miles nor Tristan were ready to admit that they were no longer just old friends to each other.