I found myself thinking about him again.
I really shouldn't.
I mean...it's just a form of self torture at this point, and I know better than to even entertain the fantasy of him being...you know...'interested'. Like, ever. But sometimes my mind wanders to tender thoughts of him and me being together anyway. I can't help it. My brain keeps trying to tell my heart to knock it off, but...it just won't stop beating with a rhythm that was specifically designed to love him, and only him. Like...I can't control it. Even when it hurts.
Believe me, I've tried to put him out of my mind a million times. I've done everything that I could to avoid him, to stop myself from looking at him, or dreaming about him, or just...really really wanting him with ever fiber of my being. I even tried being ANGRY at him for not....you know...liking boys like I do. I don't have any confusing ideas about who I am. I've known that I was gay since I was eight years old. The girls around me always thought that I was the cutest, most adorable, boy in the world...and if anything hurried my self knowledge about my sexuality along...it was the fact that they were constantly hunting me down and trying to kiss me all the time. I don't hate girls, but...Jesus...can you not borderline sexually assault me when I walk by? Young boys need their own Twitter hashtag for that sort of thing. Get your damn lips off of me! Yuck!
But...now that I'm fourteen...I think I can understand the mentality behind it. Because...if 'he' would let me kiss him like that, I don't think I'd be able to restrain myself either. He's just so...he's soooo...
...Wow. I should stop. I'm going to end up depressing myself again.
I do what I can to hide my secret. I try to be just as 'normal' as everybody else is. You know...whatever 'normal' is supposed to be. Somebody made up the rules about that long before I came along, so I just force myself to play along, even if it feels totally fake to me.
I tell the same jokes, I pretend to drool over the same celebrity women in casual conversation with my peers...but...it just doesn't feel like 'home' to me. I'm not, at all, attached to the life that I'm trying to lead. It's like I'm playing some fraudulent role that doesn't fit me. And, to be honest, it's just plain exhausting. But what else can I do? Come out of the closet and spend the rest of my high school years miserable and alone? Bullied, gossiped about, made fun of? Isn't that worse than just sucking it up and keeping random strangers out of my goddamn business? I'd rather just keep my mouth shut and deal with my abnormality like I assume an adult would do. I mean, that's the best way to go with this, right? To just...suck it up and keep from embarrassing myself in front of the whole world?
I don't know. Questions like these seem so easy to answer until thoughts of him get involved. That's when everything gets turned all upside down and my whole sense of logic and rational thinking goes right out the window. He just...he makes everything so goddamn DIFFICULT!
Why is it that everybody else gets to appreciate how beautiful he is, but I feel like some kind of 'creep' for just...wanting to kiss him. I want to kiss him ALL THE TIME!!! I mean, is that even healthy? Ugh! I'm so queer!
Sighhhh....his name is Steven. He's in my grade, and in a few of my classes. He also has the same lunch period that I have, but he sits at a different table waaay on the other end of the cafeteria where it's kind of hard to stare at him the way I really want to. But I stare, regardless. He's always doing something really cute. I don't think he even tries to be cute, it just...happens to be his default setting, I guess. When he drinks his milk, it's cute. When he laughs with his friends, it's cute. When he wipes his soft, sensual, lips with his paper napkin...it's CUTE! I swear...he drives me crazy sometimes! I just don't know what to do about it.
Steven has brown hair, but with these really light, honey blond, streaks in it. It's really cute on him. It just adds something to his beautiful face, which is a whole different discussion in itself. Really pretty eyes, dark hazel in color, and smooth cheeks. And his lips are really cool too. Every time I see his lips moving, my heart starts beating faster, and I get lost in this dreamy haze where I wonder what it would be like to actually kiss him. Like...for real.
I swoon so hard that I almost have to grab a hold of a nearby wall or table to keep my balance when thoughts of kissing Steven enter my mind. He's just....so perfect.
And that's why this hurts so much...
I mean, despite my sad attempts to put him out of my mind and live life like a normal person...I am totally addicted to Steven in ways that affect every waking moment of my current reality. I'm drawn to him like ants to a picnic. BUT...there were these little differences between us that kept us apart from one another. You know...like, I'm more of a night person, and he...he didn't fucking LIKE me! Little things like that.
It hurts. It really does. But at least I've gotten past the point where I'm crying myself to sleep into my pillow every night. I suppose that's progress, isn't it? He just doesn't like me. Like...at all. Not just in a romantic way, but even as a friend. Or even as a classmate in the same school. I tried to speak to him, time and time again, at first. He fascinated me to the point of instant infatuation, and all I wanted was to be closer to him in some way. To bask in his blinding spotlight for a while and let him know how much I appreciated him for being a part of my life experience. He made me SO happy!
Being close to him always gave me those frantic butterfly wing flutters in the center of my stomach, and I'd start giggling like a crazy person whenever I had to engage him in the even the most mundane efforts of small talk. So he always looked at me weird. And when he got tired of trying to figure out my awkward attempts to get to know him a little better, he'd just walk away. He'd find somebody better to talk to, or just roll his eyes and leave me standing there...wishing that I could be more appealing to the biggest crush of my entire life.
I just wish I knew what I was doing wrong. Because I'd change it all if it meant getting him to smile for me. Just once. You know?
But...he never does. He barely even speaks to me...even to just be polite and respond to the fact that we made eye contact. God, his eyes are pretty.
Now, normally...a rational mind would take that as a hint to leave the situation alone and simply stay away from the one thing that's hurting my heart in such a significantly awful way. But my emotions were so stubborn when it came to Steven. They simply wouldn't let go of him. I just kept trying. I kept staring at him from across the room. I kept dreaming about him at night. I kept having breathless jack off sessions in the shower while I pictured him on top of me, wildly tongue kissing while I ran my fingers through his soft strands of hair while wrapping my naked legs around his waist...begging for more while he whispered my name in my ear. How can he not like me? There was a part of me that just thought...if you love somebody THIS much...they pretty much have to love you back, right?
I don't know. Maybe not.
I think the main reason that I kept holding on to him the way I did, besides obsessive habit and a craving for his kiss, was the fact that I kept blaming myself for being the one who was screwing this whole thing up. I mean, I didn't know how to talk to boys. I don't know how to show interest, or be smooth, or get someone to find me attractive. I'm probably the most passive person in the world when it comes to that stuff. Steven was the first boy that I ever really wanted to 'try' to bond with. He inspired me to peek out of my shell for the first time and actually take a shot at maybe getting closer to someone that I truly adored.
I remember just saying hello to him, maybe giving him a smile every now and then...I'd try to go to places where I knew I might see him. I was literally trying to put myself in his way so he couldn't ignore me. I tried to expand on just a passing 'hello' and maybe make some small talk, but he didn't seem all that interested in talking about anything. And I was so nervous that I was practically trembling in his presence, so it's not like I could really get my brain functioning on any rational level. But he had my heart in his back pocket at all times, so...I just kept trying.
I noticed that he had this backpack that he kept with him at all times. He never let it go. I hardly ever saw him even open it, not even at his locker. Oh yeah, I stalked him at his locker too. I was curious about what was in there, considering the fact the did everything short of handcuffing it to his wrist to keep people away from it. But, one day I saw him with it clutched to his side, and he was looking extra cute that day for some odd reason...so, I made another attempt to maybe get him to talk to me. I mean, his backpack would at least give me something to talk about, right? It's obviously important to him. I thought it might be my best chance to get him to open up a little more.
I asked him what was in his bag and why he was always carrying it around with him like that. I was smiling...just sort of joking, you know? And Steven said...he said...
...Well, let's not go into what he said to me. It's not something that I like to think about. Let's just said that I had myself a very soul cleansing cry session that afternoon. Sighhh...I guess I screwed up again, didn't I?
I'm usually much better at regulating my emotions about stuff like this, but something about Steven makes everything go all haywire. I mean, the worst feeling in the world is realizing that someone you are ready to give yourself so readily to...just doesn't feel the same way. I can't make him want me the way I want him. I just wish I had the common sense to walk away and find somebody else to care about. Because this is just silly. All of those days I spent thinking abut Steven, longing for Steven, stroking myself like crazy over Steven...it's all been a huge waste of time. A stupid fantasy that I should have outgrown by now, like I did with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. And yet....awwww, it just HURTS to want him sooooo badly!
Sometimes, it's as though all of the color and brightness in my world had been faded and washed out and whisked away to a place that was just beyond my reach. I dig my heels in and I tell myself that this was going to be the last time that I fall for his sick little game. I vowed to take my heart back and do a much better job of protecting it from now on. But, the very next day...I see Steven with his friends, smiling and laughing and being adorable...and I fall all over again.
How can something that was once so wonderful, hurt me so much?
"Do you just want to sit in my classroom at one of the desks? Maybe get a head start on your homework for tomorrow?" My dad asked me. He's a history teacher at my high school, which sounds like it would be a bummer, but I actually don't mind it a whole lot. Most students think he's a great teacher. There are a few haters here and there that feel he's a little bit overenthusiastic, but...my dad likes his job. So why not enjoy it to the fullest, you know?
"I don't know. I spent all day going from one classroom to another. I'd rather not wear out my tolerance by sitting in another one for a few more hours." I said.
"Well, you can't just go out in the rain, Jeremy. The storm looks like it's going to get worse before it gets better." He said. "The libraries in the building are all closed. It's going to take me at least an hour and a half to finish grading these papers."
"That's ok. I'll just run down to the gym or something. Just give me a buzz when you're ready to go." I could hear the thunder outside, the mid April rain pelting against his classroom windows with a fury. But I'd rather wait and take a ride home with him instead of jumping on a bus, taking that to the train station, and continue to get soaked as I walk from my train stop the rest of the few blocks home. It doesn't sound like much of a party vibe to me.
Besides...I already know what I'm going to find in the gym. And it sucks that I still can't resist the curious pull on my emotions.
"Alright. Well, you be careful. Alright." My dad said.
"Sure thing." I took my backpack and I walked down to the main gym on the other side of the building. Basketball practice. And...Steven.
It's almost like trying to massage a painful cramp out of your leg, you know? You know it's going to hurt...but there's just something soothing about the activity itself. Seeing him does something for my spirit. I always have to keep my distance out of the fear that I'm going to make things worse, so it wasn't really a satisfying visit, not by any means. Still...to just sit in the bleachers with a couple of other students trying to avoid the rain, watching Steven run up and down that court in a pair of gym shorts and a t-shirt...it made me wish even harder that he didn't absolutely loathe me so much.
I couldn't take my eyes off of him. His legs were so sleek and strong. His face so determined, but elegant in its expression. The squeak of his sneakers as he'd come to a sudden stop and raise his arms to shoot another basket. His shirt would raise up, and I'd get a glimpse of his tight little stomach before the fabric rushed back down to hide it from me again. And he never really seemed to sweat. He got a little flushed in the face sometimes, maybe a little damp area or two on his shirt...but not much else. What I wouldn't give to get close enough to inhale his athletic pheromones feel the heat and moisture of his heavily panting body as I held it against me and buried my face in the nape of his neck.
God, he's just playing basketball, and I'm up in the stands getting a raging hard on for him again.
I felt my phone vibrating in my pocket and saw my dad's number pop up. Had I been watching Steven for that long? Already? "Hello?"
"I'm just about ready to go, Jeremy. Can you come up for a minute and help me carry some of these folders down? I've got to make sure to keep them dry." He said.
"Yeah. Ok. I'll be up in a minute." I told him, and put my phone away. The coach blew the whistle for practice to be over for the day, and I watched Steven for a few moments longer. Catching his breath, straightening his hair, lifting his shirt to wipe his sexy face. I love when he does that. Look at how flat his stomach is. Cute little belly button and all. Slender hips. Everything about him is just...it's breathtaking, you know?
I should go. I'm getting myself all attached again.
I went back upstairs to my dad's classroom with a bit of a slump in my shoulders. Sometimes it takes a few minutes for the hypnosis of watching my favorite boy to wear off. Emotions linger, after all. He seemed to have a big stack of books and papers sitting on his desk, and he was rummaging around in a drawer looking for a few plastic bags. "What is all of this stuff?" I asked.
"Homework. Test papers. Work packets that I've got to put together for tomorrow..."
"Jesus, Dad. This is crazy."
"Crazy? Maybe. But worth doing." He smiled. "Teachers gotta teach." I hate it when he tries to be cool.
I loaded my arms up and followed him downstairs, trying to hold everything steady, and then we went outside as the storm continued to rage on. Luckily, there was a small hangover roof that I was able to stand under to help shield me from the rain...but as I was awkwardly working to make sure the plastic bags were keeping my dad's papers dry...I happened to look up...and I saw him standing there.
Steven was a little wet, but he looked like he made it under the same roof, shivering gently as he waited for the storm to lighten up a bit. My heart was captivated all over again, and I hated myself for letting it be such a sucker again.
"Alright, Jeremy, just stay right here for a minute, and I'll bring the car around." My father told me, making sure that the load was steady in my arms and folding the plastic bag closed. "Keep 'em dry. I'll be right back." Then, just as he was walking out into the rain, he passed the target of my obsession and gave him a nod. "How ya doin', Steven?"
"Hey, Mr. Pacer..." He mumbled back. At least my dad can get him to talk every once in a while.
As we stood under that roof together in total silence, rain falling in buckets, thunder rumbling overhead...I felt that sickening urge to talk to him again. I knew it was pointless, but...my stupid heart just refuses to stop feeling this way. For once, I thought it would be best to just keep my mouth shut. For once, I'm going to stop myself from wasting my time. Screw him.
Steven wasn't looking at me directly...but I knew he knew that I was standing there. I think I even caught him peeking over at me out of the corner of his eye. His hair was wet. There were these little droplets of water slowly rolling down his cheeks and then sliding down the side of his neck. I just took a second to admire his profile. Even if he was a total asshole to me...I'd be lying if I said he still wasn't one of the most beautiful boys that I had ever seen.
It's so hard to detach beauty from emotion. nearly impossible.
Some of his teammates came rushing out of the side entrance as well, and were looking for someone in the parking lot. I heard Steven ask them, "Hey, can one of you guys give me a ride?"
"You don't have a ride?" One of them asked.
"My mom's working a double shift at the hospital, and she's got my keys to the house. It was kind of unexpected." He said. I love his voice too. Did I mention that?
"Sorry, bro. My brother, Wade, is coming to pick us up, and I already promised all of these guys a ride. We're already five deep. Sam's probably going to have to sit on somebody's lap as it is. Any more and we're going to have the cops to worry about." One of the boys told him, and I saw his brother's car drive up...looking too small to even carry that many people. "Hey look, if you want, maybe we can make a second trip or something if you wanna wait for us to drop some of these jerks off."
Steven was already shivering a little bit. "No...it's alright. I'll figure something."
"Sorry, bro. Stay safe, alright? We'll catch up with you tomorrow." And then we watched his brother groan and curse under his breath as the boys packed themselves, comically, into the front and back seats of a compact car. I'm surprised they didn't try to put one of them in the trunk.
I know what you're thinking, Jeremy...and NO! Just...NO! You keep your eyes forward, and your mouth shut! Do you really want to spend the rest of your night in tears? You can't be dumb enough to get your heartbroken again. Just...let him get home by himself. It's not my problem.
My dad drove up to the curb and got out to quickly open the passenger side door for me, while getting soaked in the rain. "Do you mind sitting in the back? I want to keep these papers up front with me to keep them from toppling over."
"Yeah, it's cool." I started to say goodbye to Steven, but I didn't. I gave him one last look, just to guzzle down as much beauty as I could take to hold me over until I'd be able to see him again. And then I hurried out to the car to put the papers in the front seat, and then opened up the back door to get in.
I heard my father shut the door and ask Steven, "Shouldn't you be getting home? This rain is only going to get worse from the looks of it."
"I'll be ok, Mr. Pacer." He answered, his pretty lips quivering slightly from the cold.
The windows were already starting to fog up, and I had to fight the urge to wipe a small circle clean so I could stare at him for just a few more seconds. I didn't want him to catch me gawking at him though. I'm sure he thinks I'm creepy enough as it is.
Then...just as I noticed how long my dad was spending talking to him instead of just telling one of his students 'goodnight and good luck' so we could go home...I noticed the fogged over silhouette of two people approaching the car. Not one...but two.
The back door opened, and I held in a gasp as I saw Steven get in and sit right NEXT to me! Oh God...omigod...Dad, what did you do??? It suddenly became hard to breathe. He was actually close enough for me to touch! He looked at me but I was quick to look away. Why was my heart beating so fast? I feel like I'm having a panic attack! Jesus Christ...look at how CUTE he is right now!
My dad got into the front seat and took a moment to defrost the windows and then turn the heater on for us. "Steven, I'm sure you know my son, Jeremy."
I peeked over at him, bashfully. "Hey..."
"Yeah. S'up." Steven replied, giving me goosebumps all over. "Thanks for the ride, Mr. Pacer."
"Well, I can't just let you run around in the rain all night now, can I?" My dad said. "You can come back to our house and recharge your cell phone. And once we get in touch with your mom, I can take you home. Or at least swing you by the hospital so you can get your house keys. Deal?"
"Ok. Thanks. I really appreciate it." He said with a smile. Ugh! I'm such a SUCKER for him!!!
My dad got the windows cleared up and we started to drive out of the parking lot. Trying to be somewhat 'friendly', I softly cleared my throat and said, "So...nobody saw this rain storm coming, huh?"
Steven just kind of looked at me, his smile fading a bit. Then he turned his head and looked out of the car window. "Nope."
"...Probably should have brought an umbrella, huh?" I was just...trying to get him to say something. Anything. Come on, Steven...please don't hate me.
"Yep. Probably." He replied, and he turned even more towards the window, practically turning his back on me and letting me know, in so many words, that he simply didn't want to talk to me.
So...feeling rejected, I decided to just stop trying to fix whatever was so fucked up between us, and just took some enjoyment out of knowing he was sitting next to me in the back seat of my father's car. I mean, hey, it was probably as close as I was ever going to get to having him by my side.
Gee, I can't see this being an awkward ride home at all...
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