Author's Note: Okay, so this is just a [supposedly short] multi-chaptered story, based around several different diary entries. Likely, it will cover a long period of time, with not overly much detail; except for some special parts which really do need such detail! To be honest, looking at it from where I am now (Chapter One, and just about to start Chapter Two!) it will be one big fluff ball of fiction! I hope you enjoy, and please review, I really need more constructive criticism of my writing!

Edit: Thanks to Fox of Deceit for pointing out an error! - It's been corrected now! (And hopefully there aren't any more!)

21 November, 2006

My name is Joseph Carter, and there are a lot of things I don't know. I don't know who's at the top of the charts this week, who was last week, or who will be next week. I don't know my best friend's middle name, or my great grandmother's maiden name. I don't know the square root of pie, or the meaning of the word misanthropic. I don't know what flavour Ice Cream I like best.

But there are things I do know. I know that blue and orange are complimentary colours. I know that the sun is 109 times wider, and 333,000 times heavier than the earth. I know that Shakespeare's actual, honest to god Birthday, is actually unknown. And most importantly, for the moment, I know that Christopher Geri-Fadden, most popular 'jock' at school, is, in fact, gay.

Despite the fact that he spends his days surrounded and loved by short skirted, long legged, brain-dead but gorgeous girls, I have, as they say 'got his number'. Said girls giggle in the hallways over his looks, and charm. They say he's not one of 'those' guys; that he doesn't hit it and leave it because he's a gentleman. If only they knew.

It's a small school, but there are still some exemptions from the Geri-Fadden FC. Sally the Goth (the best friend), Lindsey the Lesbian (no surprises there), and Cassie the Rebel (no stereotyping, kthxbai), are the few that come to mind. But the other female eyes all follow his toned, Armani-clad arse down the corridor, note the bronzed skin of his muscular arms as they swing by his sides, and squeal over the long bangs of sun-bleached hair that he pushes from his eyes at intervals.

Christopher Geri-Fadden, it has to be said, puts on a good show. He's rough and tumble. He's sometimes-has-a-stubble. He's on the mark. And he's always got the top buttons of his smart-casual shirts open, to give the general public a glimpse of that marble-hard, sun-kissed torso, and a tantalising view of the almost-ruggedly-masculine hairs on his chest that sometimes peek out from underneath the material. It's enough to make any girl's mouths water (well, aside from the aforementioned).

Here we come to my confession: he makes my mouth water as well. He makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand up when I hear his raucous, baritone laugh floating down the hallway towards me. He makes my palms wet with sweat, my cheeks flush a bashful red, and my heart race. Only, you understand, in the best of ways. Sometimes, I lump myself with the girls, and watch the way his bum moves, as his hips gently swing from side to side, but most of the time I like to watch the little things, because it's them I like most. Lots of the other boys have Geri-Fadden's sport-worn figure, his brawny arms, and his powerful legs. But he has more than that.

He has spiders-leg eyelashes that could turn any girl green with envy. He has large, gentle hands, that he sometimes clasps nervously during tests, that he sometimes uses to fiddle with his ear in boredom, and that he saves small caterpillars and spiders with. He has run-of-the-mill pink lips and dimples, but his left eye crinkles almost closed when he is truly smiling. Finally, as his hair grows out during each month, the very ends of his locks start to curl inwards and brush his neck.

To summarise: The most lusted after male around is a homosexual, and like the girls, I love to watch him, Christopher Geri-Fadden, with all his alluring features make their way down our school corridor. My favourite parts are listening to the girl's words about him, and the little things that make him so stunning.

Finally, to conclude: The best part is when, in one of those busy corridors, surrounded by other students, he turns his head slightly to the side, and locks eyes with me for one, single, beautiful moment. He says something each time with that look. He says 'I love you'.

"I love you too," I always whisper back.

Author's Note: So, how was it? A little weird? Too weird? Total and utter rubbish? Let me know!