Welcome to Gaia! ::

Nobody would get close to me. I wouldn’t let anyone touch me, that’s what I had foolishly told myself. I had promised that I’d keep myself distanced from everyone. But it was curiosity. (My pet hate is sentences that start with a conjunction... in some cases you can get away with breaking the rule, but I don't feel this is one of them.) That damn curiosity, which only goes to prove the point that curiosity did kill that cat. No, I didn’t die, nor am I completely unhappy but the thought that someone was able to get to my heart bugs me. (Rethink how you phrase it; at present I feel it sounds a little bland.) I suppose you want to hear the story from the beginning, well it started in my English class. I was talking to my… friends, I guess would be the closest term, I had told them, “So I’m number two, in class ranks, you know.” (You really want to develop a strong voice in your narrative. At the moment, your narrator sounds very unsure of themself. "my... friends" is very conversational. I don't feel this is really something you'd have in a narrative. Try something like "my classmates" or "I was talking to others in my class, not friends exactly, but kids I knew")

Before they even had the chance to answer we were interrupted by some eavesdroppers, “Number two?” the female (If they're in your class, I'm sure you'd know their name. If they're not particularly important then referring to them as "one of the girls" or giving them some characteristics so the reader can visualise better would be more beneficial. Like "the smallest of the group twisted in her seat, her hands griping the back of her chair as her eyes lit with interest") asked me, “Really? I thought you’d be number one, do you know who it is?” The girls friend turned in ("at") her desk to look at me, obviously curious as well. Rather than wasting my breath on them I simply shrugged my shoulders. Seemingly forgetting about me, the girl turned back to her friend and said, “Wow, I’m really curious now… who do you suppose it is?” (You've used curious quite a few times in this passage. If you feel the need to repeat that they're all interested by this, try and use different words - a thesaurus helps - interest, intrigue, inquisitive, wonder etc)

Rather than listen to their pointless drabbling (I don't really see how you can think it pointless, when you brought the topic up for discussion in the first place) I turned back to the paper on my desk and began to finish up the assignment that I was supposed to be doing before I had gotten on to the topic of number one and number two. Just as I finished the assignment the announcements rang throughout the class room. I removed myself from the desk and placed the lined paper into the basket labeled “Creative Writing.”

As I exited the class, my friends on either side of me chatting it up ("chatting it up" - I've never heard it expressed that way before. I'm more familiar with "chatting", "gossiping", "talking each other's ears off".) questions came to me. Who exactly was number one? Who could have possibly beaten me? (How do you know you're number 2, if you don't know who number 1 is?) I thought of the smartest students in my grade, though the only one that came to mind was my friend. He was smart, though didn’t have the drive. Too lazy and I doubt he really cared much in the end. Besides, if he was number one he was sure to have said something.

Why something as insignificant as a number bothered me, I couldn’t say… I kept trying to figure it out, there weren’t that many smart people in my year, it shouldn’t have been so hard to figure out. I was only brought back to reality by the touch of someone’s hands on my shoulders. I turned my head to see it was my senior friend, “You ought to watch where you’re going, Macario,” the red-head told me. Confused at what he meant I shrugged off his hands and attempted to keep going, only to realize I was nearly face to face with a wall. “Something wrong? You seem kind of… odd.” He asked me.

“No, I was just thinking,” I told him boredly (I don't believe this word exists... try "wearily"), even if there was something wrong, I wouldn’t tell him. It’d be an opening for him to wiggle his way in. I spent the remainder of the day going through nearly every student in my grade that I could think of, not one of them seemed to have enough brain to surpass me. Maybe I was being too conceited… Well it was logical to assume that when I got home that night I paged through last year’s yearbook and tried to determine who it was that had beaten me. Had it simply been a fluke? A mess up of calculations? No matter how many times I paged through that yearbook I couldn’t think of anyone who could have beaten me and wasn’t too lazy to do so.

Maybe it was a new student this year? That’d have to be it, there’s no other option, is there? Feeling defeated and (Revise sentence, how about: "feeling defeated, I threw my book, pulled off my shirt, then lay down in bed.") threw the book across the room, pulled off my shirt, and laid in bed. Damn you Mia, ("I thought" - clarify what sections are narrative, and what are actual thoughts.) why did you bring up number one? It didn’t bug me until you mentioned it… With a sigh and rolled over and pulled the blanket over my head.

I awoke the next morning at my usual time of 6:03, an odd time but that is why I liked it. After going through my boring morning routine I was off to school. I got there a bit early and I decided to go to the cafeteria, that’s where Mia usually hung out in the morning. I had to ask her who the new students were this year. I didn’t bother to care (This doesn't make sense) since I wouldn’t be talking to them but she was sure to know. When I arrived Mia was angrily talking with that one kid in our grade ("That one kid" what? The only kid?). His name escaped me, all I knew about him was that he was quite annoying and openly gay. “You’re so mean!” I heard him whine in an annoyingly high voice. Doing my best to ignore him I quickly crossed over to the usually cheerful female. (I don't feel it's really natural to refer to someone, particularly someone you know, as a "female")

“Who are the new students this year?” I got straight to the point; she was sitting on the table so we were about eye level.

“There is that Amber Rich girl…” she replied, holding out one finger as she listed her off. “We have that foreign exchange student from Taiwan, Zoey…” Mia brought out another finger to symbolize two. She closed her eyes in thought before saying, “Oh yeah! There is that kid in our creative writing class, Elliot… why do you ask, Mark?” she concluded.

I knew Zoey wasn’t in our grade, since they mentioned her at the beginning of the school year but Amber? Whoever she was, I had no idea. “No reason,” I told her lamely before leaving. As I exited the cafeteria I nearly bumped into a female coming around the corner from the opposite direction. She put out her hand, as if she meant to pat my shoulder, and apologized (apologised for what?) before heading over to where Mia was sitting. After a quick stop at my locker I would head off to my first class of the day, Western Civilization. After about forty-five minutes of listening to his robotic lecture about the test tomorrow I headed off to my second class. I was too busy thinking about how smart that Elliot kid might be, so I don’t really recall much of that class. Either way I knew everything the teacher was ranting about so I didn’t really need to pay attention. (If you can't recall what was taught, how do you know you know?) Creative Writing, my third class, I thought it would never come. I had to find out more about this Elliot boy. As I approached the classroom my heart started racing, the thought of knowing who it was must have caused it. Though that still didn’t explain why I felt so nervous. (Just trying to find out if some kid is smarter than you, evoked this reaction?)

Today Mr. DeKemper decided we’d watch a movie in his class, though since it really didn’t have anything to do with anything we were currently doing in class he gave us the option of going into the back room to study. Naturally I went back there, along with my friends Ian and Thomas. Not to mention Mia and her friend Brin, along with an unfamiliar boy… Elliot?

Once the door was closed behind us Mia instantly started talking, “Hey Mark! This is Elliot, the new student this year! I thought you might want to meet him, since you were asking about him this morning.”

I noticed a slightly smug smile come across the boy’s face as he asked, “Oh, so you were asking about me?” The way he said it, it was as if he was teasing me. I felt my blood boil at the thought of this guy beating me out for number one. Though there would be only one way to truly find out. Ask him straight out.

“Elliot, what is your class rank?” I questioned him simply, straddling the chair in the back left corner of the room, resting my arms over the back of it.

The male followed in suit and took a seat on a small metal chair. “Oh? I’m number one~” he said, crossing his feminine left leg over his right, holding up a finger for one. Why did people insist on doing that? Did they think the person was so stupid they didn’t understand what “one” meant without a visual? Then it hit me.

He did say one, right? I lost out to number one to the girly guy sitting across from me, a stupid smirk on his pale face. “You’re number one? Is that a joke?” my tall friend Thomas asked him, apparently not believing it either.

Elliot shrugged and replied confidently, “What reason would I have to joke about this?” he brought his hands to the top of his knee, resting them there. I had to give it to him, he had a point? Why would he joke about it? No reason came to mind. (Because he knew how much it would rile an arrogant boy?)

“So, Mr. One, what do you plan on doing?” my red-head friend asked the very question that had come to my mind.

“I want to open up bubble tea shops around the world~” he replied happily, smiling over at me. Never before in my life had I wanted to hit a guy so hard. What the hell even is bubble tea? Why would he want to do something so… meaningless with his intelligence?

“Bubble tea shops!!” Once again, before I could say what I had wanted to someone interjected. This time it was Mia, “I love bubble tea!! That is so cool!” After a short pause she added, “I wish there was a bubble tea shop in Whitewater…”

If all he wanted to do is open bubble tea shops, why did he try so hard? He didn’t deserve the number one spot, I plan on doing something with my intelligence, what that is I’m not sure, but nevertheless. Though I was sick of looking at that guy’s stupid smile so I turned around the chair and began to pretend to help Thomas with his math. Before I knew it class was over and my belongings were still scattered across the counter thing. Getting up from my chair I began to gather everything, my friends seemingly forgot that I was there for they didn’t wait up. Brin and Mia left almost the moment the bell rang and I was left in the room with Elliot. He seemed to be waiting for something, turning around I asked, “Did you want something?” His eyes seemed to bore into me, I couldn’t keep quiet as he stared so intently at me. (Look at sentence structure - you started a sentence with "though" but the rest of the sentence didn't really make sense how it is phrased. Try getting rid of the "though". Who's Brin?)

He stood and crossed over to me, “Nothing really,” he told me, his smile getting smugger as he came closer. Feeling a bit awkward I quickly finished gathering my stuff and tried to leave. But before I had the chance he had grabbed the front of my shirt and pulled me into a kiss. Correction, now there has never been a time I wanted to hit a guy so hard. Shoving him off I quickly left and to my dismay Ian was standing outside, he had waited for me. He must have seen the little scene that just took place in the back of DeKemper’s back room. Before I even had the chance to explain what just happened to Ian I heard Mia’s damn yelling from the hallway. (This doesn't make sense! Why would he kiss him? They don't know each other, he hasn't given him the impression he's interested, he's a kid in school so reputations and rumours would be a huge factor before anyone did something like that...)

“Holy s**t Brin! Did you see that!! (question mark)” she pointed at us, to which Brin just shrugged. She must have missed it, unfortunately for now Mia yelled, (Sentence fragment again needs revising) louder if possible, “Number one and number two just kissed!”

Trying to keep my composure I swiftly exited the backroom, dragging Ian with me. “What was that about?” the taller male asked me, his voice sounded a bit odd. A sort of emotion in it that I didn’t normally hear, I couldn’t place what emotion it was exactly.

“I dunno…” I replied lamely with a shrug, trying to walk away but Ian wouldn’t just allow that.

“Why did you kiss Elliot?” he questioned me, for some reason he sounded angry. Was something wrong? It was then I realized… I lost my first kiss to another male. (Why would he be angry about who you "lost" a kiss to?)

“Because I thought that if I could get enough of his saliva I’d get smarter,” I replied sarcastically, rolling my eyes at him. Did he honestly think I’d just go around kissing random people? Ian looked a bit taken aback at my answer, did he actually believe me. “I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me,” I concluded, why did I need to explain myself to him? (This doesn't really sound like a conversation guys would have...)

“It takes two people to kiss…” he replied slowly, I’ve never seen him so… like this before. What was on his mind? Did I want to know? He almost seemed… jealous?

Deciding to play the part of a good friend-like-person I asked him, “Is something wrong? Don’t tell me you had your eyes on Elliot,” I attempted to tease him. Though why I was the one trying to make him feel better when I was the one who was just assaulted, I couldn’t figure out. (A good friend would want their friend to be happy)

“Shut up…” he told me coldly. Now it was my turn to be taken aback. “I need to get to class, see you.” With that he was gone. Did he seriously want Elliot? Thoughts buzzed around in my mind as I quickly walked to my next class, which I only had a minute to get to. Did he really like guys? Maybe his whole homophobic thing was just a cover, an act. Either way, for the moment I had completely forgotten about the whole Elliot thing for the time being.

I was sitting at the table at lunch with Thomas and Sung, we were talking about something, obviously it wasn’t important since I couldn’t remember it. Though my lunch was interrupted by the second to last person I wanted to see at the moment. Mia, and her friend Courtney. “What was that kiss like, Mark!” she instantly asked, quite loudly mind you, as she took a seat across from Sung.

“Kiss?” Thomas instantly lifted his head from in between his knees and looked over at me. I shot Mia a look, warning her not to say any more. Though she didn’t get it… well even if she did I doubt she’d stop talking about it now. I wondered just how many people knew by now.

“Yeah! Elliot and Mark shared a hot, passion-filled kiss in Barry’s back room,” (Barry? The teacher? I've never known high school students to refer to teachers by their first name.) she replied, distorting what had happened greatly. I wanted to bury my head in the tray of food in front of me. Why?

“Elliot? That number one guy?” Thomas filled in anyone who was listening and wasn’t sure who Elliot was, just great. I took a side-glance at Sung, fearing what he was going to say. (Who's Sung?)

“Holy ******** Mark you’re gaaaaay for Elliot! Mark, you player!!” Why did people insist on discussing my private matters so loudly? It seemed as if all the tables in the lunch room had instantly turned to face us.

“First off, it was not a “hot passion-filled” kiss. Second, he forced himself on me. And third, you will not spread this to anyone else… Mia.” I concluded, standing. Words couldn’t describe how much I hated people right now. I grabbed my tray and after I dumped it, I exited the cafeteria.

I spent the rest of the day in my own little world, ignoring my so-called friends as they questioned me about my orientation. I need to some time to think. What scared me most is that I didn’t completely hate the kiss… Not that I’d ever ever admit to that out loud. (From what I recall, it was a brief kiss before he pulled away. Could he really know enough to form an opinion?)

Everything between then and the next day in English class seemed a blur. I wasn’t even supposed to be in class today, there was a field trip for “The Voice” but I didn’t feel like going. Though Ian, Thomas, and Mia, the main reasons for my not wanting to go on the trip. We were watching the movie again today in class and I went to the back room once again, alone though. Well I wasn’t alone for too long for, to my dismay, Elliot came back into the room. What did he want?

“Here,” he told me, handing me an odd drink. I took it, eyeing him suspiciously. “It’s bubble tea, try it. It’s good…” he told me, and he almost seemed… normal. For some reason my heart started to beat faster as I took a sip of the drink. The brown drink had a nice taste, it was really good. Until a tapioca pearl came up through the straw. I didn’t expect something like that coming through the straw; I coughed as it entered my mouth and nearly sputtered the drink all over the male standing across from me. It was then he started laughing, not with me but at me. Once I finished choking on the drink I shot a glare at him. “Try another drink,” he said once he finished laughing at me, “This time try not to choke.”

It was a good drink until I choked so I complied and took another drink, stopping before the tapioca pearl had entered my mouth. I handed him back the cup and he instantly took a drink from the very straw I had just choked on. “You know… the look on your face when you first sipped the bubble tea…” he started and I looked back over at him, bracing myself for another smart-a** comment, “It was really cute, makes me want to kiss you again~” Luckily I wasn’t drinking the tea at that time, for I would have done a spit-take ("spit-take?"). Did he come from someplace where it was acceptable to say this kind of stuff to another male? Did a kiss not mean the same the same thing?

Either way I took a step back and changed the topic and since I wanted a question answered what better way to do that than to ask, “Where did you transfer from?” I asked, taking the spot in the corner, where I had sat yesterday.

“Canada… why?” he replied simply, taking the spot next to me, where Ian had sat yesterday. As he sat down I pushed my chair back a bit, more into the corner.

“Just curious…” I stated. Canada… not all that different from here. So why did he insist on being so… so… flirty with me? What is going through his mind… why is he so hard to read? (It doesn't seem that hard to read, he fancies another lad - your main character to be precise - and isn't subtle about it.)

“Curiosity?” he questioned, that same smug smile on his face, as he pushed his chair a bit closer to mine, cornering me. I simply nodded in response and leaned away. “Hey Marico,” he said in a soft voice, leaning closer to me. I tried to look away but my eyes were drawn to his, I couldn’t break the gaze. He brought his hand up and used his thumb to wipe something away from the corner of my lip, butterflies in my stomach started fluttering about as I gazed into his lilac eyes. “You have some tea here,” he then licked his thumb. After about a moment of staring at him he spoke again, “Something interesting you’re looking at?”

For some reason I felt my face grow warm at the realization I had been gazing into his eyes. What was wrong with me? Luckily I didn’t have to answer for the bell rang and I jumped up, eager to leave. I didn’t want to give him to abuse my lips again.

And I was out of the room like that. The classes were boring, nothing worth noting. I skipped lunch that day because I wasn’t in the mood to be pestered by anyone. The moment I got home I collapsed on my bed, I was so glad it was Friday. I pulled off my shirt and before I knew it I was asleep. Though I didn’t get to sleep long since there was pounding on my door. I awoke with a start and rolled off my bed, “Come in…” I growled tiredly as I stood back up.

Ian opened the door and entered my room, why was he here? Then I remembered, he had invited himself over, he had said we’d play risk or a game of some sort… “Were you sleeping?” he asked me, and I noticed that he shifted his gaze away from me. I thought for sure he wouldn’t have shown up due to our spat the previous day.

I shrugged and replied, “I shouldn’t have been sleeping so early anyways…” We stood their "there" awkwardly for what seemed like hours, though in actuality it was probably only two minutes… which is still pretty long to just be standing there. Deciding that once again I’d assume the role of the good friend I asked him, in a completely serious voice, since teasing him just turned out bad last time, “Is something wrong?”

Ian just shrugged before saying, “I’ve just been doing some thinking…” Something seemed off about him. He seemed sort of… defenseless. (do you mean "defensive"?) Maybe the fact he thought I was gay made him feel bit odd. After a shot pause of more awkwardness he continued. “What, exactly, do you think of Elliot?”

What kind of question was that? I wondered, giving him a confused look. Though it made me wonder… what did I think of Elliot? “I don’t like him, if that’s what you’re implying…” I concluded, scratching the back of my head. For some reason I just couldn’t say that I hated him... “Why do you ask?” Once again in response he shrugged. He was beginning to piss me off, why wasn’t he talking? I decided to drop the friend act and said, “Hey, there’s nothing between me and Elliot. If you want him… I won’t judge you,” I teased him; at least this might evoke a reaction out of him and then maybe he’d leave.

It was the wrong choice, a stupid idea on my part. If looks could kill, Ian would have killed me right there and then. “Idiot, are you sure you’re number two?” he asked me coldly, once again his reaction left me a bit taken aback. “You’re so oblivious. What would make you think I liked Elliot?” Once he said it out loud, I realized how stupid it probably seemed… though that only left one other option for him. He was jealous not of me but of Elliot. Damn, how did I get myself roped into this? Why is everyone suddenly gay? I asked myself mentally, looking away. Before I even had the chance to suggest we do something else I felt warmth under my chin… a hand. I looked up at my taller friend, and tried to move away but he kept his held firm. He lowered his head and crashed his lips against mine. Another thing I couldn’t figure out. Why did people insist on kissing me? I couldn’t have been that attractive. I forced myself away from him as he attempted to slide his tongue into my mouth, sloppily mind you. (This doesn't seem like a realistic scenario. The odds of so many guys in school suddenly just deciding they like each other and forcing themself on another guy... particularly a guy that's arrogant but plays at fake modesty... is incredibly unlikely.)

“I don’t know what this is about, nor do I care to know but I suggest you leave…” I told him in the calmest tone I could muster; I pointed a shaking hand at the door and kept my gaze firmly on my feet. He was about to protest but I just pointed at the door again and said in a firm voice, “Out.” He listened and briskly walked out; I closed the door behind him and collapsed onto my bed. I grabbed my pillow and hugged it close to my chest, burying my face in it. Why was it I suddenly felt as if my life was falling apart? I never thought I’d feel this way. I acted as if nothing bothered me for so long I guess I actually believed it was true. It was that night I finally remembered that it’s okay to feel sad when something sad happens. I remembered that sometimes the only thing that can help you is a good cry. I honestly can’t tell you the last time I really cried before then but it felt good. Like a huge weight was lifted away. Once I finished crying I called myself and an idiot for crying over something as stupid as a person or a kiss or two. (Again, whilst crying is natural, guys don't generally want to admit to it. They'll rarely dwell on it for fear of seeming weak or pathetic, so they certainly wouldn't want to admit freely that "it's ok to cry" in this manner.)

I pulled the blanket over my head, rolled over, and fell asleep. It was a dreamless night, and a long one. I awoke the next morning at two in the afternoon. After a took a long and relaxing shower I spent the better part of my day playing online games, because those didn’t require much thinking. I’m not sure how long I sat there and played but the next I glanced at the clock the digital numbers flashed “8:09.” Rubbing my sore eyes I stood up and stretched. As I opened the door I grabbed a paper from my bedside table and traveled downstairs in a search for "of" some food for my protesting stomach. In the kitchen I raided the cabinets and found a can of alphabet soup, which I was strangely in the mood for. I removed a bowl from the dishwasher and poured the contents into it, filled the can halfway with water, and poured that into the bowl as well. Putting it into the microwave I hit the quick cook button three times. (Does the reader really need to know how to prepare soup?) I then grabbed the paper that I had brought down and crossed into the dim living room. The walls brown with paneling and only one window, not to mention the lamp wasn’t very large or bright. “Hey mom,” I said loudly, announcing my presence as I dangled the paper in front of her face. “Could you sign this?” Before she had the chance to asked what it was I continued, “For our creative writing assignment we have to observe an animal and write in its point of view. We’re going on a trip to a zoo, and then we’ll be staying in some hotel over night. We leave tomorrow around three,” I concluded with my short description.

My mother muttered a sure as she sloppily signed my paper. I heard the microwave go off as she handed me back my paper. I returned to the kitchen, grabbed a spoon from the drawer, and took the bowl from the microwave. After stirring it I took a bite only to find it was still cold. Though I didn’t feel like putting it back so I just retreated back into my room, sipping my cool soup. I then turned off my game and watched whatever was on while I finished the soup.

Once I finished I set the bowl on my bedside table, on top of my paper, and crawled into bed. I was oddly tired despite my lack of activity that day. I probably should have studied for the exams coming up in two weeks… but I wasn’t in the mood.

It was 10:46 when I woke up the following day; I awoke to the doorbell ringing. Who the hell was here so early? I thought, rolling out of bed. My parents were gone and I was home alone, meaning I had to be the one to get the door. I looked around for a shirt but when the bell rang again I gave up on that and hurried down the stairs. “Yeah?” I asked emotionlessly, opening the door. My heard skipped a beat, for some currently unknown reason, when I saw who it was at the door.

“I came up with a new bubble tea recipe!” Elliot claimed excitedly, and loudly, holding up a cup with a large straw in it. His normally pale face was red from the cold, he must have walked here. Why would a bubble tea recipe so important to bring over? I thought, (He already knows that Elliot likes him so it wouldn't be a mystery anymore.) giving him an odd look. “You gonna let me in or let me freeze out here some more?” he asked me in a teasing tone. I felt I didn’t really have a choice; I pushed the door open a bit further and made a gesture telling him to come in. I closed the door behind him and turned around to have a drink thrusted into my hands, “Try it! I want to know your opinion~”

I hesitantly brought the straw to my lips, this time the liquid was a cream-like color. I sucked the liquid slowly up the straw, still not too fond of the tapioca pearls. “It has a nice taste,” I told him blandly, actually it was probably one of the best drinks I had tasted. “What flavor is it?” I asked, as I handed him the back the drink.

“Its coconut bubble tea…” he replied, taking a drink of the delicious beverage, taking up the black pearl. He handed it back to me and I took another drink almost immediately. It seemed like a pretty good system… I’d drink it until I came close to swallowing one of those black beads and then he’d take another drink to remove it. We continued like that, standing in front of my front door, sharing the drink until it was empty. “Glad you liked it~” he said slyly, giving me a slightly creepy wink in the process. He set the empty cup down and took a step closer to me. “So, you sleep with your shirt off?” he asked me, placing his hand on my chest. I took an awkward step back, removing his hand from my body. “You know, you have a good build, do you work out?” He took another step forward and cupped my chin in his hand. I tried to break away but couldn’t… or maybe I just didn’t want to. But for the second time I lost as to what I should do. His eyes, I just couldn’t seem to remove my eyes from his. Before I knew it his lips crashed against mine gently. "Crashed" doesn't really mesh with gently. It was a soft kiss; his tongue remained inside his own mouth. His lips felt smooth against mine. Not chapped or rough like Ian’s were… It was then I realized not only was I letting him kiss me but I was comparing his lips to those of my… friend?

I pulled away as he started to allow his fingers travel along my chest, I was really regretting not just putting on a shirt. I was desperate for a change of topic; to break the awkward silence… not mention the fact my exposed chest has "was" beginning to feel horribly cold. “I need to pack for the English trip,” I stated loudly, “Shouldn’t you be going.” It wasn’t a question, more like a discrete order. Though whether he didn’t get it or just decided to ignore it I would never really know.

“No, it’s okay… I have my stuff here,” he patted the shoulder strap on his shoulder, showing off his plain backpack, “I figured we could just go together~ I don’t mind helping you get your stuff together.” For some reason I just couldn’t bring myself to tell him to scram and not come back. Instead I just shrugged and ascended the stairs, Elliot on my heels. “Whoa, your room is really clean,” he commented as I opened my door. The first thing I did when I got into my room was grab the shirt I had worn yesterday and thrown it out over my torso. He took an uninvited seat on my bed while I rummaged through my dresser draws, grabbing the first pair of pants and shirt I found. I shoved them into a duffel bag, feeling Elliot’s eyes focused on me. I’d get things like toothbrush and such later.