On the verge of failing his senior year of high school, Armando is set up with a tutor to get his grades back up. His tutor, Brian, happens to be the quiet kid that he never knew existed until now. And as the two begin to form a deep connection with...
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Armando Dominguez
The clock struck 12 exactly. The professor finished her lecture and I quickly threw all my materials in my backpacks and left the room. As soon as I reached the parking lot, I hopped on my motorcycle and turned it on.
I breathed in the air as I rode down the street until I reached the front entrance of one of the buildings at USC. Then, I got off my bike and leaned against it, waiting 10 minutes until Brian finished his class.
"Armando!" I heard Brian yell. I looked up from my phone and saw the eager boy running towards me. We both ran into each other's embraces and hugged one another.
"How was class?" I asked him as I kissed his face repeatedly.
"Boring, as usual. Quickly! Let's get home and get ready!" He said. I handed him my helmet and we both got on my bike.
Inside our apartment, Brian ran around and fixed together an outfit for himself. I just put on a shirt and some jeans, not caring too much about how I looked.
"Armando! Help! What do I wear?" Brian asked as he held up two jackets. I walked past him and reached into his closet, pulling out the jacket that he bought, the one that looked similar to mine.
"This." I said, handing it to him. "Wear it."
Brian took the jacket and checked to see how he looked. Then, he clicked his tongue and smiled. "It's perfect."
Before we exited the apartment, I pulled him aside and sprayed some of my cologne on him.
"What was that for?" He asked.
"I want anyone who smells you to know that you're taken." I said. Brian's face turned red and he patted my back to get us to move quickly.
I wasn't sure how to navigate the streets of LA. Brian and I haven't had too much time to explore the city since we've been busy with work. So the address that Brian gave me was something I was unfamiliar with.
The location seemed to be located somewhere that is dubbed 'Greek Street.' Brian had been invited to a party by some friends he made. I was weary because frats are something I despise. But Brian promised nothing would happen to us, so long as we stuck together.
I didn't take my bike, instead preferring to walk. As we approached the frat house, the sound of music and drunken chatter of students could be heard.
"Brian," I called him before we walked in. "Remember, don't drink too much. If someone offers you a beer or cup of something or even a water bottle, make sure it's closed and not already opened. You can never be too careful." I said to him.
