Invisible
I’m a straight white man,
Or white straight man,
Maybe even Man White Straight.
Or so I thought, although I am certain of the “Caucasianness” in me.
Let me take you down memory lane. I was a nobody in middle school, although my best friend would argue otherwise, but it’s something we both knew deep down and he just never admitted it out loud. I did, multiple times. I wasn’t bullied or anything, because I wasn’t noticed at all. I had to introduce myself to the teachers almost every week. On some days I was referred to as “the new kid.” I wasn’t new, just not memorable.
The end of my days in Milestone Middle School was almost over, and I couldn’t have been any happier. I didn’t graduate with honors or anything, but I was a good average student. Middle school is known for first base explorations, first kisses, and maybe a few make outs here and there. I hadn’t experienced either. I could say it’s because I wasn’t attracted to anyone, but we all know it’s because no one knew or even noticed me. Even if I had a crush or something, it would have to die with me.
Now for more context, or self glazing, whatever the case may be—I wasn’t ugly at all. I was slender and tall enough, bushy blonde hair, caramel brown eyes. Typical white boy. And before I forget, I also used glasses. I know what you’re thinking, I looked like a nerd, just didn’t have the brain to be one.
It was my final week in middle school, and boy was I excited. I decided to go crazy and do crazy things, and by that I mean get myself invited to a party for the very first time. And this wasn’t just any party, it was “THE PARTY,” hosted by the most popular girl in school, Regina (the girl, the myth, and definitely the legend). She had a power couple thing going on with Jeremy. They were the most envied couple in school. Rumor has it that some people sent texts and gifts asking to make the couple a trouple, although they were rejected “as expected” (I know you think my ADHD has kicked in and I’m deviating, but hold on to this information, especially “Jeremy”).
I had no plan on how to pull this off, and my best friend was definitely uninvited and uninterested. I couldn’t just turn up to the house like a creep or a crazy stalker. I was deep in thought in the hallway when Regina and her boyfriend walked past me. I smiled sheepishly. She scoffed and rolled her eyes in obvious disgust. I could say “I’ve never been more embarrassed in my life,” but I’d be lying. I have been, multiple times, but I digress.
During second period, I walked into the boys bathroom and saw Jeremy just standing there, looking into the mirror, muttering incoherently. I took a deep breath and walked toward him. He turned sharply, and that was when I noticed his big caramel eyes and a sharp jawline. His face card was “immaculately lethal.” Those words don’t usually go together, but damn—it is well deserved.
While I was noticing his beautiful features, he was staring at me. He broke the silence when he softly asked, “what’re you doing here?”
Mind you, it’s a public bathroom. I could be asking him the same thing. But I didn’t. Instead, without thought, I told him, “I’d like to be invited to the party tonight.”
His eyes widened, and I can swear I saw disappointment on his face. His expression dropped almost immediately, and he coldly said, “that’s what you followed me here to ask? Even you must think that’s creepy! Evan!!”
Wait, what?? He knows my name??
“You know my name?” I asked, almost shouting.
He didn’t even look at me and said, “yeah, yeah.” He cleared his throat and said, “yes, you can come.”
I smiled and turned away, forgetting I had come to urinate. As I walked out of the bathroom, I didn’t turn back, but I could feel him still watching me. So I contained my excitement until I was out the door, and I let out a dramatic wave of hands.
