Leo

Ding, ding, ding!

Finally, the bell rang, interrupted my geometry teacher, Mr. Mendoza’s, lesson on all of the major geometric formulas. Quickly, I grabbed the notebook that had been given to me by Mr. Mendoza and walked towards the door, being pushed by other kids.

Once I was out of the small door frame and the flood of students had moved on elsewhere, I made an attempt to find Israel. I stood on my toes, giving me an extra inch in height, but everyone else was by far taller than me.

One boy to my right scoffed.

“Can’t see, short ass?,” he asked, his friends snickering behind him. I rolled my eyes, as if it didn’t bother me. But being 5,5 since the 6th grade and not growing any, I tended to be made fun of quite a lot. And it became really hurtful. But I must give that guy credit. I had never heard “short ass” before.

Ignoring his comment, I attempted to maneuver my way through the crowd. I glanced nervously around. No sign of Israel. I silent slid past more and more people as I desperately searched for my friend. After going down all 3 major hallways, dread started to creep in.

Did Israel lie to me? I mean, he’s probably already in his class. He didn’t want to be with me, better yet around me. He probably didn’t even want to be my friend. He must have lied about that. He probably doesn’t even like me and was trying to make me happy. He left me. Why did this always happen? I’m happy, then someone comes in, leaves me, and screws up my happiness. And for the first time, THE FIRST TIME, I fall in love, i get lied to and he leaves me. Such luck.

Angrily, I clenched my fists. Whatever. I can do this. I’ll be fine without that lying son of a bitch…yeah, I can survive my first day of high school without the hottest and sweetest and kindest boy on the face of the planet. Yeah, I’ll be fine.

• • • • •

“How was your first day of school, Leo?,” my mom asked the second I walked through the door as she sat, reading her book on the couch.

Okay, let’s see. First, that lying scum bag’s (Israel Niccolo Gonzalez) ex friend, the 2005 bitch (Olivia Sanders) asked my out. Then the bitch was punched the scum bag. Next, Israel lies to me. School was extremely boring. And, oh yeah, a car sprayed nasty sewer water all over me.

“It was good,” I replied, then walked off to my room. Quickly, I changed into my other pair of black cargo pants and. a baggy shirt that had the Italian flag on it. To be honest, I would rather be anywhere else but my house, because Amari was going to bug me about my day, my mom would make me help with dinner, and Stella…well, Stella would be Stella. So, I went to the only other place I could think of: the roof. And if I was lucky, Israel wouldn’t be there.

• • • • •

I was not lucky. The second the large, metal elevator doors opened, I saw him, sitting gorgeously on the concrete with a large piece if paper in front of him. Quickly, I pressed the down button aggressively multiple times. Unfortunately, Israel turned around and saw me. A beautiful smile broke onto his face.

“Leo!,” he called, stumbling as he tried to stand up. I continue to press the button. I thought I was safe, but Israel jogged over and put his foot in between the doors, causing them to retract and go back to their normal position.

“Oh my god, how was your first day of school?,” he asked, giving of golden retriever vibes. I clenched my fist.

“You,” I growled, poking his chest. Israel stumbled backwards. I followed, continuing to point my index finger angrily at him.

“You *left* me,” I hissed. “You lied to me and left me, you son of bitch. I thought that we were friends.” Israel’s expression flooded with pain and sorrow.

“Oh,” he whispered. “Leo, if you would let me explain-.” I cut him of aggressively.

“No!,” I cried. “Don’t even try to come up with some *stupid* excuse! I have heard them all, Israel Gonzalez. You should have just said you didn’t want to be friends in the first place!” Israel shook his head.

“No, Leo-.”

“STOP!,” I yelled, throwing my hands the air, a single tear rolling down my cheek. “JUST STOP!” Israel’s eyes seemed to fill up with tears.

“Leo, my father sent me home because of my nose,” he whispered. “Leonard Octavian Astelli, I would never, and I mean *never* lie to you. Or leave you. Leo, I-.“ He stopped suddenly. My curiosity shored.

“I what, Israel?,” I asked, my voice calmer. Israel shook his head. I grabbed his shoulders with my hands so hard, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were bruised.

“Israel Niccolo Gonzalez, tell me,” I demand, my hands still firmly gripped his shoulders. Israel pressed his lips together, shaking his head.

“I love you, Leo.”