It’s Too Cliché…Right? Ch. 01

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Note: This story doesn’t revolve solely around sex, so if a quick hot sex scene is what you’re looking for, this story isn’t for you.

A/N: Hi guys, I’m back with a new story for you. I’m really happy with how this story turned out and I hope you guys enjoy it. A huge shoutout to Y0rite for volunteering her time to help me as my editor. Her insight has helped elevate this story in ways I would not have managed on my own.

As usual, all comments are welcome, be it positive or constructive criticism. This story is complete and all remaining chapters are submitted, a total of 12 chapters in this story. Enjoy!


Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. At least, that’s what people say. In film and literature, people strive to write the unexpected; to create that amazing plot twist that nobody expects. Sometimes it works, but in an age where almost every plot and loophole has been exploited, it doesn’t always pan out that way. Surrounded by clichés, is there really anything that can’t be expected anymore.

Well, the short answer is yes.

Unlike the predictable movies and books you’ve probably watched or read, reality doesn’t ever seem to fit into that ‘happy ever after’ mold. Sure, once in a while you see the occasional couple who’ve been married for 60 years, or the high school sweethearts that are still going strong even after spending four years at college 5000 miles from each other, but most of the time, the writers of real life seemed to have forgotten about the happy ending memo that so many people crave for.

While clichés in film are boring and dreary, certain clichés are so sought after in real life. Stories where the guy gets the girl and vice versa may seem plain and simple on film, but it’s real life stories like that that make people go ‘awww’. What I wouldn’t give to have a little predictability in my life, except that in my case, it would be a guy gets guy kind of story.

You see, my life is anything but a cliché. As a 19-year-old senior in high school, I’m already a year older than most of my counterparts. Long story short, I wasn’t a very good student when I was younger, but I digress. Add to the fact that I’m gay, you can imagine what high school would be like for me. I was the son of a single mother, sibling to an overachieving brother and secretly infatuated with one of the guys in school.

Right now, you’re probably already painting a mental image of me in your head. How I, the lonely gay nerd was secretly pining for the hot straight jock. Or maybe how this straight jock was my best friend. How I was at the bottom of the popularity food chain that is high school, constantly picked on and shoved into lockers. Well, if you thought any of that, I’m sorry to disappoint, because like I said, my life is anything but cliché.

My name is Brad Pearson, and this is my story.

The day was beautiful, a cool breeze blowing past as I sat on my front porch, waiting for the old Ford Fiesta to arrive. The sky was bright, not a single cloud marring the solid canvas of blue, although I guess living in Bakersfield California, weather like this wasn’t too rare. I leaned back on my hands, taking a deep breath, the warm air smelling of freshly cut grass from one of the houses further down the road.

“Why do you like waiting on the porch? You know there is A/C inside, right?” a voice said from behind me. I dropped my head back and stared at my brother upside down. Tim, as I’ve said earlier, was an overachiever in every sense of the word. He was a senior like me, but top of our class, unlike myself. Naturally, since I was held back one year in middle school, Tim would have been younger than me, although that’s not the weird part. The weird part was that Tim wasn’t just a year younger, but 5 years. Yep, the little genius was only 14 years old.

A little less than foot shorter than my 5’11” frame, Tim was definitely the smallest person in our grade. Granted, if you had compared him to kids his age, he was about average height. With his green eyes and blonde hair combo, many seniors looked at him as the cute younger sibling, something he didn’t quite fancy much.

“We spend so much time indoors, a little fresh air would do us some good,” I replied.

“Fresh air? You’re on the football team. You get more fresh air than I do,” Tim countered, taking a seat next to me regardless. Did I forget to mention that I was on the football team too?

“Doesn’t mean I can’t have more fresh air, right? Trust me, I’m older and wiser.”

“Pfft, older probably, wiser not so much,” he jabbed, rolling his eyes as he said this. I couldn’t help but laugh at it, not because it wasn’t true but because he was probably right. “So, what’s taking Brian so long? It’s already eight, right?”

“Like that guy is ever on time,” I replied. My best friend was a lot of things, but punctual wasn’t one of them. The only reason we had to catch a lift every morning was because I didn’t have a car. Being a single deneme bonusu veren siteler mom raising two kids, money was kinda tight in the Pearson household. That’s not saying that my mom wasn’t great, she was, but between giving us a comfortable life and saving for college, we didn’t have much spare cash to throw around. It’s a good thing that Tim was very likely getting an academic scholarship or I’d probably not even be able to head to college.

“Speak of the devil,” Tim said, drawing me from my thoughts. I saw Brian pull up in front of our house, his black car covered in a thin layer of dirt. As much as he loved his car, Brian didn’t bother ever washing it. Just inside, I saw Brian Tanner with an obnoxious smile on his face, beaming at us from the driver’s seat. “He really is a little too peppy, even for a morning person don’t you think?”

“Trust me, I wonder about that all the time,” I said as both of us got to our feet and trudged to the car, me hopping into the passenger seat while Tim jumped into the back.

“What up?” Brian hollered as I closed the door.

“Still too early man,” I remarked, to which Brian rolled his eyes. He knew he could be a little peppy at times, but he embraced it. I’ve always told him he needed to chill out but it’s not like he ever listens to me. But he’s Brian and you can’t help but love him. And no, I don’t mean I love him like that. I was in no way in love with my best friend…and I’m not in denial if that’s what you’re thinking. “Where’s Sam?”

“She’s headed to school on her own today,” Brian replied as he headed off down the road. Sam was his girlfriend and part of our clique at school. In total, including Brian, Tim, Sam and me, our group consisted of three other people, namely the twins Mitch and Melissa, and Jake. It was our own little squad, if you will.

“So, Tim,” Brian started, looking back at my brother in the rear-view mirror, a smirk plastered on his lips. “Sam told me you’ve got your eye on someone in school?”

I raised an eyebrow and turned to Tim, seeing the blush creep up on his face. “And when exactly were you going to tell me about this?” I questioned. Tim never liked many people in school, firstly because he was younger than most people in our class, but also because he found girls his age to be a little on the annoying side. That’s what he says at least.

“Well…It’s no big deal,” he said.

“No big deal? Of course it’s a big deal. I’m your big brother. Girl problems are like, what I’m here for.”

“But…you’re gay?” he said, although it sounded like he was unsure if that was the correct response.

I rolled my eyes. “So, what if I am? As smart as you are I’m still better at relationships than you, you little twerp.”

“I’m not the one who can’t talk to my crush,” Tim muttered under his breath, probably not wanting me to hear it, but I did.

“I heard that,” I replied, glaring back at him.

Brian burst out laughing at this, though. For some reason, he always found Tim and me arguing to be funny. Weird guy.

“So? Give me the deets on this girl you’re infatuated with,” I pushed, genuinely curious about her. I mean, Tim wasn’t one to think about relationships much so this was kinda big news for him.

“I’m not infatuated!” he shouted before his voice dropped in volume. “She’s just…different.”

“I’m gonna need a little bit more than that, Tim.”

“Sam said she’s in the marching band with them,” Brian jumped in, answering on behalf of my brother. I looked from Brian back to Tim.

“Band huh? So, she’s what? A sophomore?” I pried.

“Freshman,” he muttered in reply.

“Oh shoot, little Timmy finally found someone his own age,” I laughed, with Brian joining me and giving me a fist bump.

“Shut up,” Tim said, a blush creeping up on his cheeks. With a final laugh, I decided to drop it after that. Tim was my little brother and I enjoyed teasing him, but he was always a sensitive kid. I knew when to draw the line, lest I cause some major emotional scarring. Truth be told, it was nice to know Tim had a crush, and with someone his age no less.

Soon after, we were in school, Brian pulling his car into a parking spot. As we hopped out, Tim quickly said a goodbye as he ran off towards the school building. It wasn’t uncommon for him, always having some long pre-class routine he had to perform. Who knows? Brian and I on the other hand, took our time, strolling towards the front doors while walking by kids talking around their vehicles.

Now, here’s where you think that being the openly gay kid would mean I was picked on. Well, that would have been the case if not for the fact that we went to Cornway High. You see, Cornway has always had a strict anti-bullying policy. Immediate expulsion, no questions asked. Also, the fact that the school had a pretty extensive Gay-Straight Alliance, meant that gay kids didn’t need to worry about these things. It was part of the reason why I was comfortable coming out back when I was 15.

A few other students smiled as we walked by, a few football players giving us nods of acknowledgment. Though bullying wasn’t a thing we had to deal with at Cornway, popularity was still very much alive and thriving. There were the various groups of students that tended to hang around others of their kind. You know, birds of a feather thing.

Our group was popular, no doubt about it. I might even go as far as to say we were the kings and queens of the student body, although we were slightly more diversified than your average popular crowd. While both Brian and I were on the football team, Brian was the captain while I was president of our school’s GSA. Tim and Sam were both on our school marching band with Sam being one of the three drum majors. The twins, Mitch and Melissa were cheerleaders, though neither were student leaders, and Jake was captain of the swim team. All in all, a pretty eclectic bunch of people.

Speaking of which, as we made our way to the school, we passed a dark blue Mercedes SLK, the twins and Sam in front of it. Yep, Mitch and Melissa were rich as seen by their sick 16th birthday gift of that sweet car. Spotting us, Sam bounded over and gave Brian a kiss on the cheek.

“Morning,” she cooed, hooking her arm through Brian’s. Her short skirt swayed lightly in the wind, paired nicely by a button-down shirt with its sleeves rolled up messily. Her black hair was pulled back into a ponytail which accentuated the sharp lines of her face, her brown eyes shining behind a pair of white rimmed glasses.

Brian returned a beaming smile in return as we walked through the doors of the school. “Where’s Jake?” I asked Melissa, to which she replied with a simple shrug of her shoulders. For a cheerleader, Melissa was one of the most bored people in the world. I don’t mean boring, I mean bored. She looked like nothing even remotely surprised her, always with an expression that just screams ‘yawn’. Some might have even considered her emo, without the accompanying wardrobe. When she’s actively cheerleading, she’s as perky as the next cheerleader, but she didn’t carry the same attitude into her daily life.

Her fraternal twin, however, was extremely colorful, not just in his personality but also his fashion sense. While relatively tall at 6′, Mitch wasn’t what you would call the manliest person. He dressed impeccably, usually in brightly colored chinos with a tucked in shirt, and even accompanying bow tie on certain days. His quaffed brown hair looked professionally style, although on many times I’ve seen him blow-dry it into position without so much as a dollop of hair product. He was, however, as shocking as it might seem to most, not gay. I mean, I’m all for breaking stereotypes but I gotta admit, the first time I met him, I thought he played for my team. Don’t mention it to him though; he hates it.

“Fast weekend is fast,” Mitch whined, one hand grabbing to the sling bag that hung from his right shoulder. “I swear, it felt like Friday was just yesterday.”

“We feel you, man,” Brian announced from ahead of us. He stood next to Sam while Mitch, Melissa and I followed behind.

“Didn’t you guys have someone visit over the weekend or something?” I asked, vaguely remembering them mentioning some family member visiting.

“Our Uncle and his family,” Melissa piped in.

“Including our annoying cousin,” Mitch added, to which Melissa chuckled to herself. I turned to her, wordlessly asking her to explain what was so funny.

“Our cousin insists that Mitch is gay. He’s always saying that Mitch is in denial or something. It’s pretty funny really.”

“It’s not!” Mitch shouted, obviously getting frustrated at the memory. “He’s just a nosy ass bitch who doesn’t know how to mind his own damn business. A guy doesn’t have to be gay just because he dresses nicely or doesn’t like sports. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m not the most macho guy around, but bitches need to get a life and stop worrying about mine.” None of us argued with him, instead just opting to laugh at his expense, which only made Mitch pout even more.

We arrived at our lockers, with Melissa and Sam heading further down the hall for their own. I was in the process of retrieving my books when I smelt it. The familiar cologne that only one person ever wore. Heck, I’ve tried finding the brand of cologne he wears, but nothing ever smells the same as it does on him. Maybe it’s his own pheromones mixed in or something, I don’t know. I just know he smells good.

As the enticing scent slowly dissipated, I heard the clink of metal as a locker opened a few lockers to my right. I dared a peek, sneaking a glance from the corner of my eye. Evan Trevorrow stood rummaging through his locker, pulling out books before stuffing them into his messenger bag. His short black hair was spiked messily, his face framed by an incredibly cut jaw line. Brown eyes that seem to change color in different lighting were focused on the task at hand, never straying. I watched as veined hands brought books into his messenger bag, disappearing into the black hoodie that he frequently wore.

“You should stop drooling,” Brian’s voice said quietly from my left, making me pull my gaze away and pretend that I wasn’t just peeping at Evan.

“Drooling?” I asked, playing dumb as if I wasn’t just caught totally checking out my crush.

“Yeah, you got a little spit right there,” Brian said, motioning a finger to the corner of his mouth. Instinctively, I brought a hand up to my own mouth, wiping away any possible trace of drool that may or may not have come out. My hand came back dry, but Brian still smirked like he had just won a huge bet.

“Shut up,” I muttered, closing my locker, not without taking another glance to my right to see that Evan was already walking off down the hall. I sighed, turning back to face Brian.

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” he asked. To tell you the truth, even I don’t know why I can’t. I mean, I was popular. Heck, I’ve slept with enough guys for flirting to become second nature. And yet, I can’t seem to talk to one guy in school. It seems even weirder that Evan was considered a nerd, falling only behind Tim in terms of academic performance. Shouldn’t the nerd be the one nervous about talking to the jock and not the other way around?

Because Evan isn’t just someone you want to sleep with, I told myself.

I wanted nothing more than to be his boyfriend, and yet every time I even think about talking to him, I choke. I attribute it to the fact that I have had a crush on him for my entire high school life. Ever since I saw him in freshman year, I knew I liked him. The Evan then and the Evan now aren’t even the same anymore.

In freshman year, Evan was the new kid from out of town. Mostly everyone knew each other from middle school, and this quiet nerd joined our school after moving from Florida. He wasn’t the 6′ he currently stood, but a shorter 5’6″. He wore wide-rimmed glasses, had a mouth full of braces and was pretty thin. Your classical nerd who would have been an easy target for bullies if not for the fact that he had enrolled in Cornway High.

Enter sophomore year and Evan took a complete one-eighty. Gone were the spectacles and braces. Puberty had apparently hit him over the summer, with him growing those last few inches to his current height. If puberty had been kind to anyone, it was definitely kind to him. The cute boyish looks filled out nicely to a very handsome face. His thin body started gaining mass and even though he hid it beneath loose fitting clothes, you could tell that Evan was starting to get a body.

What didn’t change, however, was Evan’s personality. You would think that a person who became hot over the course of one summer would be catapulted up through the ranks of high school popularity. Sure, he got a lot more attention than he did in freshman year, but somehow, he never ever became popular. It could be due to the fact that Evan was always a quiet person. He didn’t have very close friends from what I could tell and he mostly kept to himself. Somehow, that mysterious factor only made him all the more attractive to me.

“Hello? Earth to Brad?” Brian said, snapping his fingers in front of my face. Knocking me from my thoughts.

“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, a little dazed and unsure of what we were even talking about.

“Why are you so tongue-tied when it comes to him? I swear I’ve never seen you like that with anyone,” Brian laughed, turning in the direction of our class. I followed behind before Mitch joined us.

“Evan again?” he asked.

“No,” I said, while Brian simultaneously said, “Yes.”

“You know, for a popular guy, you sure don’t act like one around him,” Mitch said.

“Mitch, unless you want me to spread a rumor that you’re really gay, I suggest you keep quiet,” I warned, making Mitch raise his hands in surrender.

“But seriously, though, you can’t deny that what he said made sense,” Brian said, coming to Mitch’s aid.

“Why are you taking his side? Some best friend you are,” I retorted, a little offended that Brian was ganging up on me with Mitch. Hell, we’ve been friends way longer than we’ve even known Mitch, and he’s taking the guy’s side over mine?

“It’s exactly me being your best friend that I’m taking his side, man. Besides, I call it as I see it and right now, Mitch is making a whole lot more sense than you are.”

I rolled my eyes before speaking, “Sure, the straight guys ganging up on the poor gay guy.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, you’ve heard it from Mr. Brad Pearson himself, he considers me a straight guy,” Mitch announced, loud enough for the other students in the hallway to hear.

“Pfft, if you’re anything, it’s annoying as fuck,” I replied, just as we arrived at homeroom.

“Language, Mr. Pearson,” the soft voice of Mrs. Pratchett, our homeroom teacher said. An elderly woman, Mrs. Pratchett was one of the older teachers in school, but somehow one of the most relaxed ones as well. She was a nice person who, although wasn’t too fond of swearing, was pretty liberal with her ideologies.

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