He answered the door in his pajamas. They had little sheep on them, and they were far too long and hung past his hands and feet. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and invited me in. We walked in silence to his room and he fell back onto his bed once we had shut the door. The house creaked as the wind whistled past his window. It was cold, and I had forgotten my jacket.
"C-can I put on your hoody?" I asked, rubbing my arms. He nodded and gave a muffled 'yes' into his pillow. I slipped on his orange hoody, and absorbed myself in the smell: smoke and spice. Interesting enough. But, then again, this was Kenny.
He rolled over so that he could see me and gave a loud, long yawn. "So, what can I help you with Kylie-poo?" he asked. I bit my lip nervously.
Kenny's tousled and dirty blonde hair spilt over his face and he gingerly brushed it away. "I love you." I blurted and instantly wanted to just curl up and die. Kenny's eyes widened and he rubbed them warily. Sitting up, he put is feet on the grimy carpet.
Could I say it again? "I love you! Kenny… I love you." I felt so weak now, like, a burden was lifted on my chest and I had to recover. But, I wasn't sure I'd ever recover from this little midnight admission. Kenny sat on his bed, and drummed his fingers on the edge of his messy bed. Occasionally he would bite his lip.
Finally he broke the silence, just as I was rising to leave. "I don't like guys, Kyle."
I nodded with my back to him, my fingers gripping the door panel in rage. Rage at myself for being stupid, rage at Kenny for being so factual and annoyingly amazing… Pure teenage angst.
The alarm rings at seven. I shut it off and groan as I roll onto my back to stare at my ceiling. My hair is jutting out from all corners and I know it's going to take me a long time to fix it. After a long moment of silence, I rise from my bed and put on my clothes: Maroon polo top and baggy but still well fitting blue jeans. Put on my converse, and fix my glasses on my nose. Take a deep breath, look at myself in the mirror. I brush my fire red hair until it's fixed.
"Nice," I comment and finish my morning routine. As I come down the stairs I smell the aroma of mom's breakfast. My mouth waters. "Hello mother!" I call and enter the kitchen. Ike is already eating toast and sausage. He's stuffing his face to be precise. I glare, "Ike, stop being such a pig. Leave me something!" Mom puts more food on the table.
"Darling stop being rude!" she 'tsks'. I take a heaving breath and put some toast in my gob. It's burnt, but I eat it anyways. If I didn't mother would complain I was wasteful. She's that kind of liberal, gung-ho, save-the-whales kind of lady. You learn to live with it.
Check the clock.
It's eight o three. I grab my backpack and rush out the door. "Bye mother!" It had snowed last night after I'd gotten home. I trudge through new snow and make my shoe prints. It's a nice day, cool and somber. The wind picks up slightly and I can see my breath. "Huh," I say to myself.
Digging into my backpack I find my MP3 and turn it on. While I'm walking to school I might as well not be bored. Turn it to Moldy Peaches, 'Anyone Else but You' and look down at the snow.
Why did I have to say that to Kenny? I was stupid, and it's probably going to ruin our friendship. What did I expect though? Did I really expect Kenny to leap up and scream, "I LOVE YOU TOO!" Actually, yes I did a little. And, looking back on it, it was stupid and I regret it.
I reach the school and pack away my music. I lick my lips. They're chapped, and I groan. The bell rings and I rush in. The school is small, easy to locate, easy to maneuver around. Everyone is pretty much in the same class, with the same classmates since grade school. I know Kenny is in every one of my classes, and always within note-passing range.
My mind wanders from Kenny as I realize I'm about to be late to History. I make it just in time and take my seat in the second row, three seats from the front. Kenny is beside me, twiddling his pencil and whistling. He turns. My face goes crimson. He grins.
I try to work a smile on my face. He licks his lips and begins scrawling on the paper below him. I watch him, fascinated. Kenny is amazing. Tall, lean, with pale perfect and blemish free skin. His body is long and lean, muscular but not overbearingly. He's…. a God at our school.
I'm awoken from my daze as he hands me a piece of paper before our teacher captures out attention again. I open it with shaking hands. My throat is dry and my hands shake fiercely. "Kylie-poo. Meet me in the library at lunch?" Signed, Kenny-la." I look at him fleetingly.
He has a grin on his lips. My heart is racing, and I'm beginning to have trouble breathing. What could this mean? Oh, let me tell you something: Kenny always hooks up with his… dates in the library. Is this what I think it is?
I put my head on my desk and scribble notes, never really paying attention because it's incredibly hard to pay attention with a blonde haired God next to you.
TBC. Little Prologue. KennyKyle. Won't be very long, but the chapters, I'm anticipating, will be lengthy! Let me know who you like it. Thank you.