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everything I've never done (I want to do it with you)

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If it weren’t for the American School System, Cyrus probably wouldn’t be skateboarding right now. But the system is overworking everyone, him included. 

 

And one Friday night when he decided that enough was enough and that he needed a new way to release stress, he left his bed at 10 P.M. to travel to the garage. He found his older brother’s faded baby blue skateboard, now covered in a thin layer of dust from the lack of usage. He really did miss Cameron sometimes, he’d only went to college a few weeks ago, but he was across the country. 

 

Shaking his head as if to clear the thought, Cyrus quietly opened the garage door with the handle at the bottom, only open enough for him to slide under into the chilly October air. 

 

He knew he’d have to be careful about where he skateboarded if he didn’t want to be caught out this late. Deciding that the outer edge of Shadyside would be the best idea, he started off in that direction, only stopping a few minutes into the ride to make sure he had his phone and headphones. 

 

Popping his headphones over his head and selecting his King Princess playlist, effectively named “andi’s gay music that i enjoy <3”, he kicked off again towards the abandoned parking lot he knew to be located on the edge of Shadyside. 

 

Arriving at the parking lot, he took off his headphones, sitting them around his neck with his phone in his back jeans pocket. Cameron had never taught him how to skateboard, that was an unspoken rule between them: Cameron had his skateboard hobby and he had his journalism and directing hobbies. But having been missing him recently, why not learn to skate?

 

~

 

Having frustratingly fallen multiple times already, Cyrus was understandably mad at himself. He knew Cam had picked this up within minutes, while it’s already been an hour and a half for Cyrus and he still couldn’t skateboard. 

 

Angrily kicking the skateboard across the parking lot, he lays himself down on his back in the middle of the parking lot and stares up at the stars. He find Cygnus, lifting his phone above his head to take a picture. Of course with his luck the phone just had to fall on his face. 

 

He groaned, rubbing his nose with the palm of his hand. “Why does this stuff always happen to me?” He continued mumbling under his breath about his terrible luck and how he needed to get home, unaware of the other presence behind him. 

 

“Am I interrupting something?” 

 

Startled, Cyrus squeaks and straightens into a sitting position immediately, whipping his head around to see who was behind him. 

 

He was... not expecting that. He’d seen this guy around school before, he seemed to be a loner. But what really caught his attention was the outfit. A white T-shirt that fit him just right, a jean jacket that hung just loosely enough around his neck to show off the shape of his chest, and a pair of loose jeans. Amber would have pointed and said something about denim on denim clashing, but Cyrus couldn’t find anything to be wrong with it, this outfit really flattered this guy. 

 

Taking a deep breath, Cyrus started, “Uh, n-no, I just dropped my phone and I should be getting home.” Man, this guy was hot. 

 

Smirking as if he knew exactly what he was doing - and Cyrus wouldn’t put it past him to know - Hot Guy started talking again, “You might want to stand up to do that.”

 

“Oh, uh - right.” Cyrus awkwardly stands, realizing he’s only a few inches from Hot Guy’s chest, and backs up a couple steps. 

 

“This yours? It rolled from this way when I came in.” Hot Guy held up a skateboard, and of course his luck strikes again - it is his. 

 

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I got mad and kicked it...Can I get a name?” Cyrus takes the skateboard from Hot Guy’s hand and avoids eye contact. 

 

“TJ. TJ Kippen. You?”

 

Cyrus debates tell him his name for a few seconds before he decides on telling him. “Cyrus. Goodman, I mean. Cyrus Goodman.”

 

“Well, Cyrus, would you be willing to meet here again tomorrow so I can get to know you?”

 

Flustered, Cyrus stumbles through an answer, “If-if that’s something you want to do I think I could be here. What time?”

 

“Nine-thirty. Sharp.” TJ smirks one more time, before walking back in the direction he came, waving over his shoulder, “See you tomorrow, Cyrus Goodman.”