✌ Four

Okay, so, maybe this wasn't exactly how I'd envisioned my first day of senior year would go.

Maybe, just maybe, I thought I would arrive on campus wearing a cute, fresh look that would turn a few heads, namely Kai's, totally not get detention, and ride off into the sunset on the back of my biking bad boy's motorcycle – or, at the very least, spend some time unwinding at Sica's spa after a stressful first day of school. Ending up in the same room as that Yixing lameazoid was so not on the itinerary, much less with my BFF within a mile radius of us.

Life as I knew it was officially over. I sank into my seat, trying to make myself appear as tiny as possible, but all the gesture accomplished was eliciting a grossed-out sneer from Jessica, who sniveled, "Like, what on Earth are you doing, Mila?"

But I didn't dare utter a peep in reply for fear of bringing attention to myself. I could hardly even find the strength to peek over my shoulder and locate Theatre boy's whereabouts. But because I'm apparently a total bimbo and a glutton for punishment, I did. I slowly peered back at the entranceway behind me, all the while chanting in my head like some possessed channeler, "Please don't recognize me, please don't sit by me, please don't recognize me, please don't sit by me..."

Yixing's eyes darted across the room, searching for an empty seat to take, when he all of a sudden glanced over me. I wanted to dive under my desk, but instead, I flinched.

And awkwardly smiled – well, more like grimaced – in greeting.

In that instant, I knew it was game over. For one, the only empty desks in the entire room were the ones surrounding me and Sica; he had no choice but to sit right beside us. And, more importantly, Theatre boy totally recognized me.

Oh, God, did he recognize me.

No sooner had he spotted me than a sly smirk tugged at his lips, sending that little dimple in his cheek popping out. He moseyed right over to the desk directly left of mine and gracefully slid into the chair, pulling his headphones off his ears and resting them around his slender neck. Madonna's "Papa Don't Preach" reverberated from the tiny speakers.

"You," he mumbled, trailing off pensively as he snapped his fingers. His hand mechanically wobbled back and forth on his wrist in a contemplative gesture. "You look so familiar... I think I recognize you... Popcorn Head, is it?"

I blanched faster than Michael Jackson, only to quickly compose myself as I remembered I had to remain in control of the situation. I couldn't let Theatre boy reveal my secret in front of Jessica. My eyes narrowed, and I carefully straightened up in my seat before hissing out what I could only hope was a thoroughly convincing, "I'm sorry. I think you have me mistaken for someone else. You see, girls like me don't usually associate with freshmen boys like yourself."

"Oh, I'm sorry," he chirped without missing a beat, the simper on his lips widening. "You just reminded me of this super lame girl who used to come to the theater I work at over the summer. She cried at the Care Bears!"

Jessica snorted to the right of me, and I glared dourly at him in response to the remark. Crying at the Care Bears was not lame. Excuse me for being in tune with my emotions! Without another word, Yixing slid the headphones back atop his head and promptly pretended to ignore me as he began humming along to "Open Your Heart." I had to admit, I heaved a little sigh of relief realizing he didn't seem hell-bent on outing my deepest, darkest secret to Jessica for the time being. But I still had to be sure once and for all.

"I'm going for a smoke break," my bestie suddenly yawned, apparently oblivious to the tense atmosphere suddenly suffocating the room. "Wanna come, Mila?"

"I'll pass," I muttered.

"Suit yourself," she clucked before rising and sweeping out of the room like a butterfly. I watched her go, ensuring she was clean out of sight and earshot before turning back to that Yixing character and ripping the headphones clean off his head.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" I hissed, just quiet enough that the other detention-goers couldn't hear my harsh whisper. "You almost got me busted!"

Yixing raised an eyebrow. "I'm serving detention," he responded coolly, "just like you, apparently. Hey, you know, I don't really get the impression your blonde friend caught on that we know each other."

"We don't know each other," I huffed, crossing my arms curtly. "Just because I happened to go to Theatre once or twice doesn't mean we're friends or acquaintances or people who even know each other."

"Alright, chill," he laughed, shaking his head as he unplugged his headphones and wrapped the cord in circles around his hand. "You don't gotta wig out. I'm just making conversation. Anyway, I think it's safe to say we'll officially know each other once we've formally introduced ourselves." He held out his free hand and grinned. "Name's Yixing, if you didn't already know."

"I didn't," I lied, raising a haughty eyebrow as I stared his hand down for a moment. Grudgingly, I unfolded my arms and took his palm in mine, shaking only twice before releasing it. "Mira, but call me Mila," I drawled the usual introduction. "It's more Hollywood."

He stared blankly back at me for a second before guffawing. "Your name's Mira," he retorted. "I'm calling you Mira."

I groaned, rolling my eyes. Like, whatever. Theatre boy could call me whatever he wanted as far as I was concerned. It wasn't like I would ever grace his presence again. "Just don't call me Popcorn Head in front of Jessica. I'm begging you," I droned sarcastically. "I just want to serve my time here. I don't want any trouble."

"No trouble," he repeated in a whistle. "Hey, speaking of trouble, how did you land yourself in detention, anyway? You don't strike me as the type of gal to stir up trouble in the classroom."

"I didn't. I was simply late for class," I seethed, side-eyeing him critically. I supposed I could return the inquiry. "You?"

"I missed all my classes," he announced with a proud beam, and my haughty facade immediately broke off in favor of an astonished gawk. What on Earth was he so happy about? Furthermore, how did he even manage a stunt like that? As if reading my mind, he proceeded to chirp, "Long story short, I left my schedule at home and decided to wing it. Between sitting through half the wrong classes and wandering the halls during the other periods, I ended up missing every single one. The dean caught me in sixth period and gave me the obligatory lecture about how I should have gone to the guidance office, how being a new student doesn't excuse me from the rules, yada yada yada, and, well, here I am now." He crossed his hands behind his head and reclined coolly in his chair, finishing off as if he had just relayed the most impressive story in the world.

Frankly, I was dumbfounded.

By his sheer stupidity.

Luckily, Jessica promptly returned from the toilet (I assumed, because where else would she take a smoke break?), thus ending my oh so electrifying conversation with Yixing. Thank God I didn't have to socialize with that dweeb anymore. I proceeded to forget he existed as Jessica and I engaged in a little tête-à-tête about much more important matters, like the bad juju that was the fact that we only had one class together and consequently couldn't spend study hall gossiping about Tiffany's newest rumored STD.

To my surprise, detention seemed to fly by. The millisecond we were announced as free to leave, I bounced up from my seat, not even gifting Yixing with a parting glance as I followed my bestie out of the classroom.

"Gee whiz," Sica remarked at nothing in particular as she slipped on a pair of sunglasses that cost more than my middle school braces. "Well, the good thing is that detention didn't take that long, so we can still veg out at the spa if you want."

"Duh," I laughed, following suit by adorning my own pair of extra-large shades. The sun was totally obscured by those giant, puffy clouds – cumulus or cumulonimboids or whatever they were called – but I was so not going to risk gaining a single wrinkle before I was thirty. I tossed my backpack into the back of my bestie's convertible before hopping into the passenger side.

The corvette whipped out of the parking lot, and Jessica immediately commenced freshening up with a new coating of hot-pink lipstick as we flew down the road, running a stop sign and narrowly missing a flock of kids from detention about to step into the crosswalk. Jessica didn't even notice. She obliviously primped in the mirror before passing the tube over to me.

"So, about that boy you were talking to in detention," she suddenly piped, and I instantly smeared a line of pink makeup across the side of my face.

"Wh-what about him?" I stammered, fearing the worst.

"He's, like, cute. He has good style. You're not thinking about dating him, are you?"

Oh. She was just scoping out a potential piece of meat. Well, she could have him. I sighed audibly with relief and proceeded to my finger to rub the lipstick clean from my cheek.

"Like, barf me out," I gagged. "I wasn't even thinking about it."

"Good," she clucked and smirked slyly, apparently pleased that she was free to lay him as she wanted. But what she said next took me by total surprise: "Because he's, like, totally gay. I mean, what kind of teenage boy puts True Blue in his Walkman? Madonna is only, like, the biggest gay icon ever. And those shoes he was wearing? I'm pretty sure I saw Tao wearing the same pair."

I blinked at my bestie, confusion suddenly overwhelming me. Yixing was gay? Now that I thought about it, what she was saying made sense. No straight guy I had ever dated listened to Madonna. Kris Wu certainly didn't listen to Madonna, if he even knew who she was. Yixing was gay. I was almost frightened by the realization. Not because I cared that Yixing wasn't chasing after the ladies, but because I had never realized just how far off my gaydar was.

"Oh my god," I garbled at the epiphany. "You're right."

Jessica nodded smugly. "On second thought," she chirped, "dating yet another gay boy might work in your favor, Mila." I rose an eyebrow, all but having forgotten about the lipstick smudged across my cheek by this point, and stared my BFF down, wordlessly eliciting an explanation. She just shrugged and finished, "It might help you catch Kai's eye, since you seem to be failing abysmally at the moment."

And in that instant, my entire outlook on my dating life changed.

✌ Author's Note

HI. SO. I feel like I should give some sort of disclaimer with this chapter. Because I, for one, find fanfics in which a girl "turns" a "gay" guy "straight" very offensive, and I don't want anyone to make that assumption with 1987 because that's not what I'm going for here at all. (If anything, I sort of sculpted this story as a parody of those fics.) But I don't want to spoil anything, so that's all I can say on that matter.

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