We sat there, his hands rubbing his eyes aggressively, getting rid of all the tears but making his eyes even more red and puffy. I stared at him, watching his already mangled, blonde hair rubbing all on his forehead and face. I feel like laughing about it, but, that’s far from funny at this point.

I hear him give a short chuckle.

“You gonna tell anyone?” His hands return back to his lap and the anticipation of my answer dancing in his eyes. It breaks my heart of the 100th time that past 5 minutes.

“No, I wouldn’t. It’s too personal to tell.” He nodded and continued looking at me, his blue eyes crawling with a lingering feeling of fear.

“When did you have surgery?”

He seemed taken aback by the question but reluctantly answered.

“A year ago. And before you ask, my original name was Piper.”

I smiled but immediately regained my serious posture.

“Can I see them again?” I asked, pointing my finger at my chest and circling it. He nodded and slowly lifted his shirt.

They were pink and had faded some, almost unseeable. His stretch marks looked against the original scars. They were two small red lines about 2-3 inches in length. He was skinny, his collarbone poking out slightly, his shoulders supporting the small freckles that dotted his skin, even going as far as saying he had some on him his stomach. But the belly button was the cutest thing I had ever seen.

“Your not looking at them anymore.” He slipped on his shirt to my disappointment. 

“You're just flattering yourself there Liam. I ain't nothing to look at even if you wanted to.” He gave a weak smile, yet insecurity raced behind those beautiful blue orbs.

“Not to sound gay or anything but I’m surprised you don’t have a girlfriend yet.”

He blinked at me, a faint pink tint painting his cheeks, fixing his shirt as he tucks it back into his pants. “Thanks.” He mumbles.

“Seriously! You’ve got the pure image down, girls dig that, and not to mention the fact that you have very blue eyes. I’m stuck with these red things that look like they might pop out and bite you. Seriously dude, if anyone doesn’t qualify with the ladies it’s me. I have the ‘emo’ image down, did you know I used to have brown hair, ya, used to have brown hair. I got it dyed for my 12 birthday. Pretty cool, huh? Even though I’m 14 now, my hair still keeps the bl-” I’m babbling. Fuck.

“Sorry, I babble when I- actually - I do it all the time.” He’s looking at me and with that damn smile. I’m screwed.

“You have never babbled to me before.” He states.

“I never really knew you until we beat each other up.” We both chuckle at the memory, rubbing the things that we had gotten seriously injured.

“Anyways, want to head back to class?” I start walking towards that door, hoping to put this all behind me, except him.

He grabs my arm.

“Are we friends still?” He lets go immediately and clasps his hands together, tangling his fingers with is own.

“Why wouldn’t we be?” I know exactly why. 

“Because I’m, ya know, a girl?” He seems heartbroken to even say the words out loud, I do the most appropriate thing.

“From what I can tell, you seem to be a boy to me. You hiding something?” I give him a small grin and a playfully questioning look. He understands immediately.

“No, not at all.” He says, smiling contently. I had finally done something right.