No Mutual Friends

I have a selection of stories on Nifty, GayAuthors, Iomfats and CornerCafe. If you would like to read more of my content; check out my author's tag on Nifty or visit my website to find everything you need. 

My Website - www.dk-daniels.com

As always, don't steal. Consider charity for Nifty, or if you want to join the community, I'm building, pick up your hammers and nails and support me on Patreon if you can. (Links are on my website.) 

Lastly, feedback is crucial. I love hearing from you guys, and gals so don't be afraid to drop an email. I have not received the feedback I was hoping for. You can find me at danny2017writing@outlook.com

Check out my Patreon for early access to chapters.

A special thanks to my patrons: Samuel Roe (Cynus), Thomas Tallis,

Authors note: In writing, it is often hard at times to capture certain accents, speech patterns, colloquialisms and common text that is usually not used in a proper manner of English. However, to achieve the following story certain liberties need to be taken with spelling, grammar and punctuation to give the story the power it require's. Please allow me this and go with the flow as, at specific events in the story, the need for social media among young people is an ever-growing trend. And of which will occasionally be demonstrated within the current account.

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No Mutual Friends

By D.K. Daniels

Part 3 - Into The Unknown

Sitting throughout that bloody session was murderous. If anything, I am not one to contemplate such dark images except goddam; I badly ached to lean across and threaten that smug asshole with a rusty breadknife… A breadknife… I have no theory as to why my mind settled on such a lame result, but oh well. As they say, let your darlings fester.

There is only a couple of minutes left before the bell finally ring's and I'm out of this horrible shithole; concluding that that means I will not have to endure or see the stupid moron for the rest of the day; then I surmise that is all the good news I need to bear. Every time I keep looking over at him I want to put my hand into my bag take out the hardest book I can unearth and fling it across the room. For some reason even the sound, I can imagine it would make a lovely cracking across the top of his head, and that would be delightful in some way or form. I can't quite explain it, but I have an urge to do something even though I'm not remotely angry at him. I can’t tell where all this hatred or whatever you want to call it is coming from because naturally, I'm not one to hate people. Sure, if you mess with me, I'll give you a pounding. And that's it once that is done then that's all there is to it. I can't understand for the life of me why I keep coming back to the conclusion that if I had just hit him harder yesterday that I would have knocked out all shallow that he is from him.

Fixing my eyes to the clock, I wait as the last couple of seconds countdown, and like that, the chime went. Spanning across I pluck up my bag and dart out down the middle of the aisle, narrowly avoiding Jason and out into the hallway. Letting a sigh of relief go considering I handled myself pretty well back there, a wave of proudness took me over. For the entirety of that detention, I desired nothing more than to reach out and lunge at that savage.

 Figuring that since launch has arrived and I have nothing better to do that I'd meet up with Stephen and walk to shop with him.

Butting through the cooridoors congested to capacity, avoiding, shimming, and forcing my way through groups of people, by teachers, I made my way slowly to where I know I always find Stephen. Every morning before class most students would spend their time at a locker that has been paid and assigned to them. Nevertheless, for people like Stephen, the only time one can get books is when the last bell goes for lunch. Without the occasional hello and welcoming smile from a couple of girls and lads along the way, I found myself to my mate's locker. Standing around awkwardly I wait for Stephen; considering he is never on time, it is nothing new. Contemplating, I never realised before how much attention is actually on me. I mean all those girls back there in the corridor smiled at me so does that say they're interested in me. Nawh… They're merely most likely looking because they heard what I did yesterday and that's what they are watching.

Regarding student after student bypass, and the occasional teacher glance over in my direction quizzically, making sure that I was up to no good. I'll never understand why the teachers seem to always do that. Just because you have a little bit of a bad reputation doesn't mean you're still down to set out to do evil deeds. I mean you can't possibly know what everyone is thinking. It doesn't determine that because I'm standing here that I'm going to vandalise the lockers. Presently when I think about it, it seems like a plausible, wonderfully hypnotic idea. Scratch that I am only alluding myself. 

Scanning from left to right again, I caught sight of Stephen. Breaking a bemused smirk, I ambled forward to him. 

“Hey… “ I gestured.

Stephen nodded and shrugged off his bag, setting it about on the floor beside his locker. Digging into his navy slacks pocket, he tore out a key. Pinching his trousers by the knee, Stephen pulled them up slightly on his legs and knelt down. Turning the key in the barrel lock, he proceeded to transfer books between his bag and locker. As I awkwardly stand here, I unconsciously peer at people passing by. Coming in the Library courtyard door, Charlie Golding glumly entered in the same mood he had been in earlier. With his head aimed at the floor, his long black hair falling over his eyes obscuring his face. All I can make out is his protruding nose, and you know what… it's funny how it seems bothersome. I never thought that Charlie would be one to make me feel something. Not that I have a thing for him; it's just seeing him miserable is horrible. It disheartening not being able to see his face or look him in the eyes when you pass in the corridor; knowing that the early mornings are murderous on him as they are on me, but now that’s gone. Sighing; I let Charlie float by like I didn't exist yet again, and he pulled the door to the library and disappeared inside. 

"I'm done; coming?" Stephen breathlessly asked as he sprang up from his crouched position. 

Indicating with a nod the two of us left the school, trailing the path around the back of the building and out the back-arch entrance onto Hugon Road; cut across the one-way street, and through the grand gates of South Park.

Gradually shifting with the mender in the path, we kept to the left of the tarmac, with the all-weather playing astroturfs by our side. Treading onward Stephen and I began a conversation about Donald Trump who is supposedly building a wall between Mexico and the United States; although quickly that topic fell on its head when Stephen caught sight of a couple of girls that go to the same school as us. No more in the mood of entertaining Stephen’s twisted hormonal urges; we walked on approaching the girls. I don't have anything against the ladies. It's just right now my head is in a different place; it seems rather rumbustious of him to make a decision without taking onboard if I am down for that. Which truth be told I am not? Who wants to watch Stephen smoothly get it on with a girl; or at least give it a cringy try, which for some untold reason is amusing, but not in a perverse way; expect in a humiliating way. You know when your mate does some embarrassing. Furthermore, you can't help but tag along and when they do something out of character to impress; it ends up coming back to haunt you too. Yeah well, that… 

“Hey, Karlee…" Stephen radiated, and flooded with enthusiasm. His cheeks flushed crimson, and round turned the girl of his dreams.

The pretty blond girl; typical of most childhood crushes and stereotypical fandom. The blue-eyed girl, with a slender build, and a small rounded face with soft features, struck a heart chord in my best friend.

“Oh, hey Stevie,” Karlee said, somewhat suggestively.

The girls accompanying her broke into a bit of a giggle, and all the eyes were on me more so than Steven. Karlee smirked, and her eyes wandered from me to Steven and then back. I feel a little uncomfortable with all this attention. I should have thought yesterday before I took a swing at that dickhead. Now it seems plausible that every girl in the school has the hots for me because I got in a scrape with some moron. Sheepishly, I tried looking elsewhere; all around me really. I found a man jogging more interesting than the girls, but hey he does have a nice ass… 

Zoning out I swivelled my head along with the man running the semi-circle in the path carefully until Steven bumped me on the shoulder. 

“Is-It alri' if Karlee comes with?" Stephen proposed. 

Desperately wanting to sigh from frustration, I nod and then break away from the group ahead of the two lovebirds as they say goodbye to the group behind them. A part of me wants to be able to act normal around girls, but that doesn't come naturally. Naturally, to me, my feelings gravitate towards a bloke, lads… boys. Sure, the concept of being gay has lingered for a while but since I am too preoccupied disrupting the peace and causing destruction as everyone else is so well inclined to lay down on me. I haven’t had a chance to reflect what my emotions are trying to tell me. Often enough times have guys crossed my mind while performing my flute solos; I assumed it was a weird phase and that it would quickly pass, except that never happened and I am kind of stuck with it now… my Gay. 

Getting pulled out of concentration; the lovey-dovey couple caught up with me with a bit of a sprint. Not that they are a couple. 

“You’ not waitin for us?” Steven chided.

Beaming at him, I chuckled, "I waited long a-nuff.”

Not straying from the path; the three of us, came out the far side of the park onto Clancarty Road, and turned right, heading toward the housing estate. Sauntering by building after building of red brick, the street grew narrower, with cars parked either side of now a single lane in the centre of the road. At the top of the road, we turned left and passed the café on the corner until we came to Sainsbury’s. As we parted ways to get food and whatnot, I made my way to the deli counter and ordered a sizeable spicy chicken roll. From there I made my way to the refrigerated drinks, plucked up a bottle of Coca-Cola and my phone buzzed in my pocket; letting the bottle back down I fingered out my phone from my slacks.

1 Unread Message

From: John White

Subject:

“I guess you don't wanna talk. Sorry for bothering you. So that you know though, I still think you’re wicked awesome.” 

Sensing my heart falter and swoop to the unknown person. I clicked on the message and hesitated; although I didn't know what to say, much less say anything. I wanted to at least talk to someone who is like me. Though I am not out; it's oddly gratifying to have an admirer, and if it turns out that this person is gay then that’s even better. Except I’ll have to be careful with what I say because this could be anybody and it would be embarrassing to let this leak out into the open; sighing I tipped on the subject field.

To: John White

Subject: 

“I wanna talk…”

I immediately sent it so that I wouldn't back out and as fear crept its way back in. Putting my phone back in my pocket; I scooped up the bottle of Coca-Cola and made my way to the cash register with the hot lunch. In one hand the gentle warmness brewed a condensation to the skin of my palm, the other, I gripped the bottle of the Coca-Cola by the neck of the vial. As I waited patiently for the queue to move along a sense of relief, proudness and dread started to rain, mentally at least.

The End Of Chapter 3

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I have a selection of stories on Nifty, GayAuthors, Iomfats and CornerCafe. If you would like to read more of my content; check out my author's tag on Nifty or visit my website to find everything you need.

My Website - www.dk-daniels.com

As always, don't steal. Consider charity for Nifty, or if you want to join the community, I'm building, pick up your hammers and nails and support me on Patreon if you can. (Links are on my website.)

Lastly, feedback is crucial. I love hearing from you guys, and gals so don't be afraid to drop an email. I have not received the feedback I was hoping for. You can find me at danny2017writing@outlook.com 

Check out my Patreon for early access to chapters. 

A special thanks to my patrons: Samuel Roe (Cynus), Thomas Tallis,