DISCLAIMER: PURELY FANFICTION!!! I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE NAMES IN THIS STORY! I ONLY OWN THE PLOT!!!

To readers: This is all made up so it's not actual people/characters. lol

Enjoy.

*_*_*

After two long months, school reopened yesterday. It was this same yesterday that I had walked into the classroom. Forty two seats aligned in the same way we the students had left them just before summer break. Only forty one seats were filled.

Yesterday was the day that Brian McKinney died.

For the longest time I – Michael Williams – have been in love with Brian McKinney. It was most likely when I had turned thirteen that I was able to distinguish the feeling I had once thought to be a simple liking for a person. During the five years it took from then to get into twelfth grade, I had kept my feelings for him hidden. And despite having been in the same class and living almost adjacent to each other for more years than I wanted to count, Brian did not know I existed.

It wasn't his fault really. Our lifestyles just did not match. I was more into the arts and he was focusing on business. I couldn't play a sport to save my life, yet Brian defined every male sport and made his presence known in them. He was friendly, kind and outgoing, while I was two steps away from being a hermit. His grades were always above average, mine were just grades. He was born and raised in – for lack of a more fitting term - a good home. By comparison, my father was a drunk who left my mother for the wonders of the bottle the day after my fifth birthday. The empty bottle of Jack Daniels he had left behind had "Happy Birthday Mikey" written across the front label with a plain black marker. I kept the present for some strange reason, and will always have a shot of Daniels on my birthday. However, soon after Dad left, Mom took up the habit of drinking with a side order of cocaine. It's become my duty to keep her out of trouble, and away from the grave.

Touched by divinity itself, Brian McKinney's looks were borderline God-like with soft waves of chestnut blond sitting atop his head and having deep, focused honey gold eyes that held a gentle beat behind them. His famous smile invited the hearts that beat around him – seeing it was like witnessing a miracle. And every muscle that defined his perfectly sculpted body and face was chiseled from gold itself. Brian was nothing short of perfect and everyone knew it. I, on the other hand, am nowhere near good looking. With my dark long hair that's straight and thin -with the exception of being cut short once – deep blue eyes and a small body topped with straggled limbs, it's beyond obvious that I am no Brad Pitt. Let alone Brian McKinney.

In short, Brian McKinney was my total opposite.

It was because of that distance between us that I locked away my feelings for Brian – leaving them to silently grow behind secured steel doors. For me, it was always better to be invisible to Brian than to be hated and despised by him the moment he saw me.

The few friends I had were accepting of me after I told them about what I truly felt for Brian McKinney. They were always supporting me, and encouraging me to go ahead and tell him how I felt. But I declined. The same scene would always play in my head every time that little thought of confessing came up in my head: I was alone with Brian, and suddenly I told him the truth. His gentle smile vanished. Those kind eyes went cold. He would step away. I'd move closer. Then he would strike out, and tell me how much I disgusted him. How much he despised me. And then he turned his back and walked away.

Without fail, I would always wake up to reality to find myself staring off into space or looking at my bedroom ceiling, with the slow moving tears dripping down my face.

It's already been one whole day since Brian McKinney passed away. Being a stranger to his entire life, I know nothing about the details of his death. Unanswered questions like how he died, or did he suffer, or did he die alone keep popping up in my head – today more often than ever. The most pressing question is should I have told him that I love him. The answer has remained the same: No. There is no reason, however, to accompany such an answer.

Our school is a few miles away from a lake. It always provided a refuge for my thoughts, and today is no different. Sitting by the water's edge with my mind still stuck in a place between regret and sadness, I mull over the current events.

Yesterday I had walked by his home and went to school as usual. The day was sunny. The sky was blue. My friends were there to greet me. And they were there to inform me that the boy I had loved since Creation had suddenly been ripped out of this world. Brian McKinney was gone forever. After hearing the news, despite my mind going blank, I could sense the tension that hung above my friends so I opted to crack something of a smile and carry on with the school day.

As my lidded blues scan the placidity of the water ahead I realize that back then and probably a bit now I was in denial. Brian McKinney was not dead.

Yesterday I went to class – every class – and the gold student did not show. School ended but it was three hours after that I was finally able to pull myself away from the outside Brian -less field and head home. My mother was sleeping in Dad's favorite chair. Along with my Jack Daniels bottle, that was something from Dad that she never gave away. When I finally blinked for the first time I was a little shocked to find myself lying face first on my bed. The day was like a dream. A bad dream that I wanted to wake up from. And when I had, the reality was even worse. For the first time I felt the pain of regret. I should have just selfishly told him. I should have at least tried to get him to know me. Tried to be his friend. In the very least, I should have tried harder to be something more to Brian than just someone he never knew existed. And had I known it would have been this painful, I would have manned up and told him how I felt. I would have told him that above all else, he was the most special thing to me.

Yesterday was very different from today.

Today I had walked past his home once more. This time I caught a glimpse of an eight year old Brian throwing snowballs at his garage door. Back then his hair was mere bristles atop his head. On my way to school, the sun was hotter than ever. The sky was still blue. I was even surprised that the school was still there. It hit me hard, as I walked through the front doors, that though to me Brian McKinney's death was like a blade forever stuck deep in my heart, to other people his death meant nothing. In fact, the world still moved on even though Brian was now gone. And it made me extremely angry. I shunned my friends today. I caused an uproar in class after punching the guy who sat down in Brian's seat. I was given detention, but I ran away from school after second period. I ran and before I knew it I was sitting by the lake lost in thought.

A single day has passed, and as I sit staring at this lake, I now realize that Brian is never coming back. No matter how much I think about him, no matter how much I regret, no matter how much I love him. None of that matters. It even coincides with how I felt when he was alive. It didn't matter how much I thought about him, or loved him, since I never said anything how can I honestly expect him – or even hope to expect him – to ever know anything. I never even gave him the chance to feel anything for me. The realization acts as the catalyst for a flood of tears that drip out of my eyes. A few heavy sobs trail in after. However, I soon draw back on the tears and stifle them. This lake has enough water as it is.

With my mind a bit clearer I think back a few years – something a short term memory advocate like me could never easily do before - and I can faintly recall that one time he exchanged a few words with me. I don't know why I had forgotten that now precious moment, but with the cool breeze dancing through my ebony hair my stony heart beats with a little more life.

***

We were twelve. Mom had been taken to the hospital by her coworkers. I got mad, and even shouted some horrible things at her when she suddenly returned home later alive and well. She hit me. I ran away. I ended up by the lake without realizing it. And he was standing right there. Brian McKinney. He was simply staring at the water top with those honey gold eyes. Under the evening sunlight he looked like an angel descended from Heaven itself. I felt as though he was miles away when in truth he was a mere feet. I didn't move in fear that – like a beautiful butterfly – he would sense me and fly away. I opted to stand my ground and look at him in awe from a distance.

He eventually realized my presence and turned around. At first he looked confused, but then he gave a chuckle and smiled. My attention scanned over reasons as to why my heart was suddenly beating faster. I chose to ignore it.

"Hi." A simple word and yet I was having trouble breathing. "Wanna see something interesting?" He gestured with a swift side motion of his head for me to come closer.

I walked silently towards him – maintaining my distance even as I stood beside him. I focused on the lake with a frown scarring my face. "What is it?"

He came closer to me and pointed directly at my reflection. "Try to smile."

I creased my brow a little, but did as he asked. The pathetic look on my face caused him to burst out laughing. I joined in a few seconds later. After we got a hold of ourselves, I looked at him and found the side of his face a tiny distance away from mine. Eventually I looked at the lake ahead.

"I don't get it though. What's this interesting thing you were talking about?"

He gazed at the water surface through slightly curtained eyes. "It's staring right at you."

I stared at the water. Nothing happened. By the time I gave up on trying to understand, Brian had already left.

***

Maybe it was because Brian was here every day that I was able to suppress my emotions, and even somehow temporarily forget memories of him I never knew existed. However, with Brian now gone, I'm happy that I have things to recall. Even little things like that memory.

By now the sun is setting. Its dark gold and bright hues of orange are dying the sky. I stand to my feet, and dust off my now slightly dirtier pants. With the sun sinking away this will mark the third day that Brian McKinney has been dead for. I know somewhere in my mind that once tomorrow comes, traces of Brian in the outside world will vanish instantly. In time only my hidden feelings and a headstone will serve as memory for Brian. However, even though I can't abandon the feeling of regret, I have now decided to take the first step towards accepting that he is no longer here.

The water in this lake is not as clear as it used to be. However, my reflection is still able to dance atop the surface with ease and clarity. Taking in a deep breath and temporarily closing my eyes I succeed in grabbing a bit of Brian's presence that was here with me so many years ago. When my lids open, and my deep blues' land on the water's surface, I get a short look at what exactly was so interesting to Brian McKinney that day. And it's making me smile a little bit more.