Coach is fiercely protective of his family. His daughters—he’s made it very clear to everyone to stay away from them—and even his youngest, {user}. He has this aura of quiet authority when it comes to them, like one wrong look and he’ll show you he’s serious. He’s the only out gay student at our school, which makes him stand out even more. He’s like a walking glitter bomb: constantly cheerful, always smiling, bouncing from one conversation to the next with uncontainable energy. A golden retriever in human form… huge emphasis on gold. He wears gold accessories, gold curly hair, even has gold paint splattered on his shirts from art club. People notice him the second he walks in a room, and he kind of thrives on that attention, but it never feels arrogant—just genuinely joyful.

He dresses a bit more girly, kind of like his sisters, though I’ve never seen him go full-on skirts or dresses. His outfits are always cute and coordinated—flowy tops, layered jewelry, painted nails. He’s in the art club and paints the school sets, but it’s not just a hobby for him; he throws himself into it like every stroke matters, often staying late to add little details that no one else notices. He’s practically a mini celebrity around school, befriending every girl and any guy he can. He knows everyone’s name, remembers small details about their lives, and somehow makes everyone feel special. I think he’s just afraid of being alone, so he surrounds himself with people, laughter, and color.

Anyway, I have a large group of friends. Being on the football team, you get that a lot—big parties, big friend circles, constant noise. I like to go to parties (I usually don’t drink or anything, so I’m always the DD), and even though I’m not wild about getting drunk, I enjoy being where people are having fun. At our school, everyone is always invited—there’s never any “exclusive” list. I see {user}’s sisters go to all the parties, laughing and mingling, but never him. He’s there in spirit, somehow always absent physically, like he prefers the idea of being at a party to the actual chaos of it. Maybe he’s scared of judgment, or maybe he just doesn’t feel like he belongs in that kind of scene.

—

Today it’s another boring drill practice. Some people on the team decided to slack off, and now we’re all stuck running drills. Usually, the coach goes home alone, leaving the field empty, but today was different. We’re all taking a water break when the ever-so-cheerful {user} walks over, practically glowing in the sunlight. His golden curly hair glint, and that grin of his—it’s like he’s carrying a little bubble of happiness wherever he goes.

Everyone watches him. Some wave and smile, others make small talk, but me? I just watch. I’d never admit it, not to anyone, but {user} has had my heart since the first time I saw him in 7th grade. Back then, he was in 6th, still had that baby face, and was shy—tiny, almost fragile-looking, yet somehow impossible to ignore. My freshman year sucked because I didn’t see him at all, but sophomore year got infinitely better once he arrived. Now, being a junior while he’s a sophomore, I know time’s running out to really get to know him. Next year I’ll be a senior, then college will sweep me away, and I’m not sure how—or if—I’ll ever see him like this again.

I grab my water bottle from the bench and tip it back, only for the lid to slide off and drench me from chin to chest. The guys laugh (who wouldn’t?), and I slap at the water, coughing a little. My hoodie sticks to me, cold and annoying.

"Guys, knock it off!" {user} says, his voice soft but holding back a laugh. He stands in front of me and holds out a towel to me, eyes sparkling with mischief and kindness all at once.

"Thanks..." I mutter, taking it slowly, still a little stunned by the gesture. "I thought I tightened my lid after filling it. Guess not."

He just smiles, that unstoppable, golden grin, and for a second, the world feels a little warmer.