The Pain Behind Bright Blue Eyes

Sorry I have been so long since I updated this...some way to start out as a writer here. So much has been going on right now and I would promise to update at specific times, but school is rough and writer\'s block is a constant pain in the ass. I\'m sorry if it\'s still a little slow but I promise it will pick up eventually; have to kinda set some background information and I\'m in a kind of depressed mood right now anyway. This still is my story but I am writing this story for the pleasure of you, the reader, so if you don\'t like it how the hell am I supposed to know what your deal is. I want to thank my first reviewer, \"tina\" for being brave enough to post a comment and yes I do plan on posting more......Here is the next chapter......~^-^~

~*~


The day came to an end all to shortly amiss the gossip and trivial worries teenagers have in high school. I remember something a friend said once that said something like \"remember that game, telephone, we all played when we were little and one person started a message and in the end it was something completely different--welcome to high school.\" I agree full-heartedly with that. Don\'t get me wrong, I enjoy listening to the gossip and collecting dirt to use against people when it should benefit me, but honestly girls gossip way too much for my taste.

Anyway, I boarded bus number one in hopes of getting home quickly. I have my liscense so most people assume that I would drive but who in their right mind would waste money on gas when the bus is completely amusing. I put my stuff in the left seat, three rows from the back (where I always sit) and went to chat with the bus driver a bit. She is actually a pretty cool bus driver and is fun to chat to. Today she was her usual perky self and bored me after a minute so I returned to my stuff. The group began talking about some random bitch in school that they didn\'t like and the bus began its route. \"So when are you going to get me off?\" One of the guys asked from behind my seat. I rolled my eyes and tried to stare him down.

Secretly I\'ve liked him since 8th grade, stronger then than it is now. He actually looks like a younger version of Eminem from 8Mile, no joke. I mentioned how I tried to stare him down but every time I look into his white-blue eyes I can\'t help but smile. My words sufficed to convey my feelings, \"I\'ll suck your cock the day that you are a virgin again...I don\'t want a disease\" The back of the bus was filled with the childish \"oooooh\" when someone gets a metaphoric slap in the face, or a real one. \"Yeah, the bitch will only suck your cock when she\'s done with mine.\" Came a response from a seat closer to the front. My mini Eminem (that\'s what I call him in my head) graciously rose and walked across the moving bus toward his constant nemisis.
I watched, as did the rest of the bus as my mini Eminem shoved about this punk kid that people have affectionately dubbed \'the wigger\' (meaning white person that tries to be black but can never be as such). Honestly I think those two fight just to fight and the results are always the same. My mini Eminem returned to the seat behind me after throwing the punk around the empty seats up front and stopping short of breaking the kid\'s face. I really do like him, he\'s strong, tough, not exactly stupid, makes me laugh and he doesn\'t look so bad. I don\'t go out with him because he\'s a man-whore and I just don\'t wanna subject myself to stuff like that. \"You know I\'m right\" came an ever defiant cry from the front where the bus driver confined the punk. \"You want me to break your face this time?\" I eased him back into his seat reminging him that the driver of the bus behind us likes to write people up. I slumped back against the window, looking at the sophmore across from me, a brunette that resembles me slightly except for her excess of piercings. \"Why is it that they think that we are dutybound to give them blowjobs just because we have tongue rings?\" She smirked and looked to the only other person on the bus with a tongue ring, a freshmen girl. \"Because it\'s the way it is\" came the voice of another guy from the very back. The three of us turned, sticking out our tongues and revealing the jewelry in question.

The middle school had the day off today so the bus went straight to the first stop, mine. I got off at the stop, flipping my customary bird at everyone\'s farewells and began my short journey down the street, looking at the ground. I happened to look up at the house before my own, a house that I believe will never leave my memory. Back when I was in sixth grade, a rumor spread throughout the middle school that someone had had sex in the locker room and got suspended for it. I didn\'t know my neighbors that much and was extremely surprised, to say the least, to find out that the female culprit lived next door to me. That summer when I had nothing to do I began to get more involved in playing with the kids in the neighborhood, playing games and just hanging out. I began to become more acquatined with the girl next door and actually began looking up to her despite my knowing she was a bad influence. She seemed to be as troubled as I was, having divoced parents that didn\'t get along and to add to that she included a somewhat abusive brother into the mix. Summer ended, she went into high school, I entered seventh grade and we fell distant.

I entered my house, clipping my keys back to my belt loop and throwing the mail on the counter. I picked up the phone, dialed a familiar number, \"yeah...I\'m home...yup, leaving at 4 to catch the bus...okay bye\" I hung up the phone after letting my father know I was home safe and entered my room. Like hell I was doing homework on a friday afternoon so I threw my bag on my computer chair, turned on the stereo and flopped on my waterbed, followed by my dog. As I played with his ears, my mind drifted back to the girl. We had gotten reaquaintanced last year as we sat in the frigid cold of the mornings waiting for the bus to arrive. She hadn\'t been there the year before simply because she had been arrested and served a year in juvy, and event which surely changed her. She was more aggressive, more powerful, more convincing; I began to feel a sort of crush for her. By the end of the school year, I found myself lusting for her and my feelings weren\'t unreturned. She hit on me most mornings, but I stupidly turned her down time after time, hinting that I wasn\'t gay. For all intensive purposes, I knew I was bisexual since the summer before my freshmen year when I entered my first relationship with a girl. Once again I found myself looking up to her, this time for her strength about being openly lesbian, the first one in the school to actually do so.

I truely realized her feelings at a desperate time in my life. My grandfather, who had always been there for me, passed away in April of that year. Being a well-praised firefighter, firefighters stood watch at the wake and then lead the procession to the cemetary. Being an active firefighter, she attended and paid respects, I believe partly because she knew me and partly because she got a chance to stay home from school that Monday. Never the less, I felt myself cheer up when I saw her standing in line and I don\'t think I will ever be able to forget how when she hugged me, she kissed my neck gently. The next day at school she even had the nerve to still approach me and with her kind heart offered me any support I needed. I looked at the clock and realized that I had to drive to the school for my basketball game. I gathered my stuff and locked the door behind me. Shawna broke my heart when she told me she was moving away, which she did when the summer began. I looked at the little white house across the street with the \'for sale\' sign out front and remembered the conversation from yesterday: Shawna and her brother are buying the old lady\'s house across the street. I started the car and prepared myself for the upcoming game, this could get interesting.


TBC (hopefully)