Meltdown.

You are having a meltdown and your face is failing to hide it. Your lips are part, your eyes widen all because of this guy standing before you. In all his Captain American (your nickname for him) Glory with his, what you just notice, large hands griping your umbrella. You glanced over your locker hoping, praying, that Narnia was just a leap away. Quickly you made a mental note to make a bonfire out of your Father’s fantasy books.

“Vash?” He called out, grabbing your attention once more. You… You… What do you do with this giant, then again standing at 5’3” anyone is a giant compared to you, which not only play but also hang with the same crowd that beats the living hell out of you? “I wanted to—“

Saved by the bell, without warning you slam your locker shut with the needed materials dangling from your arms and beeline to your 1st period. The hallways suddenly became a highway: mouths honking, heavy flow with exits with each turn and scurrying feet to make their destination. Nothing is new and everything is simple. Until over all the buzz of gibberish, you heard him.

Loud and clear and over the herd,” Vash let’s meet up after school, by the lunch yard!”

Don’t turn around, don’t turn around but most of all, do not turn around! Damn it, you turn your head. You just don’t listen do you? Despite all your claims from the night before about how you are not going to have any, any relations with Captain America. You blew it, you acknowledge him and now he is going to take advantage of the approval you gave for turning around and acknowledging him. Yeah, slap your forehead as you enter 1st period: Computer Applications.

An easy class to have in the morning, nothing too complicated for your drooping mind. You sat idly in front of the blaring screen, occasionally swooshing your chair causing your hanging feet to swing. Mr. Paulson was explaining a little too thrilling voice for the absent minded teenagers on how,” today, we will be learning how to make Menus in Microsoft Word!” Just like that, the excruciating 58-minute period started and each keystroke was slowly killing off some minutes. You mind was elsewhere and you realize that when Mr. Paulson stalked over and told you,” Vash, you been typing the same sentence for the last 5 minutes.”

“I am?” Yes you are. Staring at the sentence that was repeated about a dozen times.

“How about going to sleep early?” He joked, lightly patting your back before taking his leave to help another nameless student in your book.

Superman fingertips gently trace over the large chest of his fellow hero, his friend. He desperately searched for the slightest heartbeat, hoping he was wrong.

You brought your palm over your face in distress; this was not the time and most of all, not the place to work on your homoerotic fanfiction. Button smashing the Backspace key, you started to wonder if anybody in your classroom actually read fanfics. Deciding to survey of your classmates, you became conscious of a fact. You don’t know a single name.

“Did you need something, Vash?”

“Oh! No, no, no. Not at all, I was just…” You quit mid sentence and went straight back to the screen.

There wasn’t a chance in sight for you to get back to work. Sighing you saved whatever you had done, a title in Broadway font, and went straight to the web. Trying to get your mind off of your stupidity, however just as the Wikipedia page loaded up your pocket vibrated. You felt your blood run cold while you fumble to take out your phone. A riddled neighbor was watching your pathetic display of being sly; she shook her head acknowledging your fail attempt. You, on the other hand, paid little attention to her peek.

Finally releasing your phone from the clutches of plaid, you duck behind the tower station beside your monitor and took a look. It was a message from one of your chums, Olivier or what you saved her as: “Robin.”

“hey, hey, my little sources told me that you were talking to a certain blondy name Colt;)”

Great, the last person you wanted to know knows. Ducking you hear lower and deeper into the glaring screen, you quirky text back,” robin where did you hear that from???”

Off it went. Still, you kept your eyes locked onto the screen waiting for the next message from your crazed friend. At the same time, you were experiencing a small heart attack, an attack that your fanboy heart knows all too well but damn it; this is not the good kind!

The phone slipped from your palms and landed straight onto the keyboard, to your luck, Olivier texted back. Just as the first vibrating resonated, you snatch the out-dated phone and quickly snapped your heard above the tower to see if anybody notice.

“a little birdy told me~”

“was it wg?!?!” By W.G. you mean Wonder Girl, or what she is better known as Kairi.

“yup, she told me he was talking to you by your locker. Are you guys an item now;) didn’t know you had a blonde fetish, how are we going to break it rusty?”

“NO you ravaging butt!”

Just when you were about to send the message, s cough twitched your ear. Pulling up from the screen you saw it was Mr. Paulson with a stern look of disapproval.

“Vash.”

“Sorry, Mr. Paulson.” You apologize as you handed over your flip.

“Come after school to retrieve it.”

“Okay.”

When he left, you solemnly placed your head onto the desk and just wish over and over again to die there…. In reality on a (filthy) computer desk in a room filled with people you don’t even know but in fantasy, you were in the arms of your hero… Superma—Colt?!

Jumping up from your seat, you took another glance around the room. Good, no one notice your stupidity. Shaking your head in disgust, you return back to your work. Up until the bell rang.

After slipping out of 1st period, the rest of the evening was dreadful, almost painstaking irritating. Somehow the drone evolved to monotone, the chattering became idiotic no matter who’s in the conversation, even the once soothing AC filled Chem. lab felt like a jab straight to your bones.

When the afternoon came rolling around with the sound of grade B products being thrown away, you were head deep into your locker searching for textbook while Russ was standing beside you rambling on about how his contacts were killing him.

“….. So I might switch back to my glasses.” He leaned against the locker right next to yours. “It’s not my first choice but it’s my only choice.”

“Isn’t still Soccer season?”

“Shit!” Russ slapped his forehead. “That reminds me…”

“Huh?” You began to withdraw from cavern, your lip biting onto the sleeve of Russ’ jacket.

“I forgot, fuck!”

Russ still had you in the dark. You watch him, wide eye, reach for his bag and slung the straps over his shoulders.

“Soccer meeting right now, I’ll see you later?”

You carefully shut your locker shut, your fingers barely peeking out the long sleeve.

“IRL?”

“Maybe, if anything I’ll let you know.”

“ ‘Kay.” You peep.

Russ just smiled, one of those smiles that get you all warm inside. You smile back and before you know it, he yanks you forward and wrapped his arms around you. After getting over the initial stinging, it felt nice. The warmth of the bear hug making you feel all cozy, as if you were sitting in front of the fireplace reading some,” Action Comics.”

“You know where to find me if anything.”

Like that Russ was gone, mixing with the overpopulating crowd. It was hard to spot him since he wasn’t wearing his signature green lettermen. Reasoning being that you, yes you, are wearing it. Seeing there’s no point of staring into the abyss, you turn around to the other direction. However in mid step you were caught off guard by a new pair of hands. Your back slammed against the locker, already people began to turn their cheeks and shuffle away. Your glasses slide down the bridge of your nose, your vision becoming blurred yet you could still make out the blue irises staring, glaring at you. Under his smoldering glare, you shuddered from his smolder.

“Vash, who was that?” His farm boy accent prompt, an accent you were teased for never having. “Huh?”

“Russell.” You whimper while you avert your glance elsewhere.

The pressure against your shoulders started to become overbearing, you hoped they wouldn’t pop out of place. You kicked your feet down only swiping air; quickly you brought your gaze back to him. It was Colt. His face contorted with anger and you don’t know why.

“You’re… You’re hurting me.” You admit while you hands ringed his wrist.

Suddenly, you dropped. Your body slammed against the floor as Colt banged his heels away, ignoring your puzzlement with ease. Nonetheless, you picked yourself up brushing off the dirt from plaid pants. You took another glance towards Colt, who was making way for the wet yard. You notice that Colt was walking rather… fast. Maybe he was in hurry that’s why he didn’t slap you around, who knows? All you know is, if Colt does finish whatever task at hand you need to make out of school fast.

Colt was no Ivan, that much you know already. Ivan has strength of an average football player whereas Colt is beyond those years. You squeezed your shoulders in remembrance, his warmth still lingers. Maybe you were just imagining it: the inhuman pressure. Colt’s thumbing sat snuggly over your petite shoulders, his thick fingers digging into your shoulders. Anybody could do that, but… That look he gave you. The sensation rattling throughout your body like a heat wave, causing sparks to fly. You shuddered at the thought. What were you, a masochistic?

You pondered upon these thoughts as you slip under the whole underneath the fence. Ditching school is a no big deal for you, in fact you rather be home all day experimenting on your latest findings or chatting with your chums over the Internet. However, Russ speaks otherwise.

The relationship between you and Russ is complicated at best; the only clearance you ever gain was that you consider him as a bro. Still, you couldn’t help but to think he wants to be more than that, the way he treats you, hugs you, touches you. It’s different from Olivier for sure. Naturally you weren’t the only one receiving these vibes, a lot of girls treat you like second class if not completely shun you. Unlike you, Russ is a popular guy: Charismatic, athletic, adventurous and handsome. You, on the other hand, are nothing like that. You doubt that you’ll ever become like that: you’re social awkward, you consider sports as witchcraft, you prefer your comfort zone and buckteeth, and glasses are not bringing in the men.

Sighing, you keep walking on the lonesome street. Russ is a cool guy and no doubt you love him like a bro. He was the first person you came out the closet to, all he said was,” is that suppose to change anything?” and gave you this confuse look. You didn’t get it until afterwards but he wasn’t confused at all, in fact he was enlightened. You smile at the thought whereas you bawl you’re eyes out at the time because you thought he was making fun of you.

Homosexuality is a hard thing to live with, especially in a small community here in Kansas. You have yet to come out the closet but what’s the point where there’s already a rumor going around. You look at your sleeve-covered hands: this jacket was the source of the problems.

It all star—

Honks of the horn blare and disrupt your flow, you turn to your left and hello came the semi truck. You froze, body becoming tense. You stare like a deer caught in the headlights oh dear is this right?

Reflexively you brought your hands over your face in a lame attempt of defense. You ready for impact, ready for the tears of your father and mother to drop. You were ready for the worst. Yet, nothing came except the scraps of the snarling metal. You drop your hands just like your jaw dropped.

The semi was put to the stop but not by the brakes it was supplied with. Human, a being with his red cape slumping over his bare shoulder, stopped it by the sapphire boots he stomp in. He glances from behind his tussle blonde hair already you quiver underneath his gaze.

“Who are you?" Your mind taking over your vocals.