in vain {Parker}

[Erik Stewart]

Erik did not wear gym clothes well. He looked like a bundle of limbs sticking out of a sack. He’d sad, skinny legs with knees that were far too conspicuous. Perhaps most of all, ‘gym’ was a major affront to his entire persona; he did not sit well in physical education, didn’t look right, didn’t want to look right, would absolutely refuse to do anything related to it. Yes, Erik was one of those kids. He was probably the one in a hundred who was getting a failing grade in it.

But that had never stopped him before. The most movement the coach ever got from him was when he leaned away from an errant ball thrown at his head. Often he would stay up in the bleachers, feet planted down and shoulders in, looking quite unapproachable and even a bit (or very much) nervous.

Part of it was because he wouldn’t be caught dead playing volleyball or whatever it was they did. Another reason was the fear of embarrassment – and not in front of anyone, because he could hardly give a shit ‘bout what they thought, usually – but this special fear was reserved for one person.

He was the opposite of Erik. He looked great in gym clothes. He was athletic and vivacious and he knew people.

He was also straight.

He’d never really spoke with Parker that much – they knew each other in passing. Cordial words probably weren’t much to Parker, but for Erik they were few and far between, and each one was a distinct memory. That was not to say he was under any delusions about the other boy. Erik was not out of touch with reality; he knew where he stood, and he knew, too, that their conversations never consisted of anything other than a greeting and maybe an extra comment or two. Yet despite it all, he was not immune to the teenage ‘crush’ phenomenon, as useless and unfulfilling as it might have been.

It was about ten minutes after gym class. Erik was putting on his everyday clothes with much relief, and he kept his head down and his hands busy, pretending not to notice Parker’s approach.

[Parker Matthews]

Parker looked good in gym clothes. He knew that and everyone else knew that. He wasn't really much of an arrogant person and he was definetly not cocky, but it was fact. Sure, it did help that he worked out a lot to make his body look the way it did, and that he wore clothes that complimented his abs. And it sure helped having certain someone to impress, which sadly, wasn't even here. Though luck, eh?

Sports was something Parker didn't very much enjoy. He was more of a loner in training rather than any teamsport. But it was part of his grade and he didn't really have a choice. It was far better to keep his mouth shut, his mind open and wait for it all to be over. God, he really didn't enjoy people all that much. Sure, most of them were cool enough but Parker wasn't a people-person. Well, he was trying not to be anyways.

And finally, it was all over. Oh, the suffering!

He couldn't help but to notice this awkward little kid in his class. Erik? Eric, Rico? Eh, he didn't know. It was something along the lines of that anyways. And this guy just happened to be Parker's kind of guy; A loner. Well, if you looked apart from all the scrawny awkwardness anyways. Because Parker was none of those. Usually...

He gave the boy a pat on the shoulder and grinned. ''Don't enjoy gym all that much do ya? I feel ya, man. I don't either.'' He sat down and wiped his forehead. ''Well, not this kind anyways.''

[Erik Stewart]

Erik had just finished pulling up those jeans up his freckled hips. He almost breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t overtly self-conscious but he still didn’t like the way shorts displayed his scrawny chicken legs.

Anyone else and he would’ve turned around and taken their hand off, or else given them a hard stare, because Erik did not like to be touched – hated it, in fact. He got all scrunched up. His thin white shoulders would curl and he’d lean away like they were radioactive, and his blue eyes would peer out the corners, and his lips would curl up and he might ask what the fuck did they think they were doing? But he did none of that with Parker.

“Mm. Nope,” he muttered. This was barely heard. He was too busy filling his speckled cheeks with blood, making them look far too pink. He put a hand up to his lips. He’d yet to look directly at Parker.

His town had twenty-six residents, none of whom had found him Christianly, and they’d more or less let he and his mother fester away in his molding southern home. Now, at Pilot Ridge, he was surrounded by people he’d no earthly idea how to interact with…much less someone who could set his blood aflame just by looking at him. It was hard being the weird kid.

There was a bit of a silence. Erik thought maybe he was waiting for more of a response. He tucked his bookbag against his chest. “Y’did good out there,” he offered, tentatively.