Date: Sun, 22 Jul 2012 00:31:38 -0700 From: Lover Boy Subject: High School: Lover Boy Part 1 This story is completely fictional. This is a love story between two high-school aged boys and their relationship, any relation to person's living or dead is coincidental. If the nature of the story offends you, or if you are under the legal age to view this content, I ask you not to read this. If you have any questions, comments or criticism, email me at loverboystory28@gmail.com. It started in 7th grade, just around the time those lingering feelings that I was different came around, that I noticed just how interested in boys I was. It was that electricity that ran through my body at the sight of a guy's smile, or a guy's arms, or a guy's legs that told me that I was different, much much different. Little did I know then that it would be the start an insane revolution, like the start of a new adventure; I was on the road to something mysterious and beautiful. I knew in 7th grade that I was different, but it was not until the 8th Grade I had hit the greatest change in my life, the day I met Bobbie McAdams. That electricity I felt for other boys was nothing like the full blown storm of emotion I felt for him. I had wanted him from the first moment he sat down in Math class, and best of all, he was already mine. Or at least partially. Even when my thoughts about him would drift to how nice he smelled, or how perfect his hair was, he would wake me up from the fantasy, talking about how much he wanted us to go see some action movie. He was my best friend. Whatever I had felt for Bobbie blurred the line between best friend and boyfriend. I remembered lying in bed at night, dreaming he was next to me, even as he lay sleeping in his sleeping-bag below me. When it came to Bobbie McAdams, I was fine with just being his favorite friend. As self-conscious as I was back then, I was glad I never had to make a decision on who he was to me, at least not then. He made my life difficult, but I couldn't do without him, he drew me in like a moth to a flame; there was something about him, a kind of warmth I only felt in his presence. He had a way of comforting me when I was a ball of anxieties, and got me to smile even when I wanted to frown. He had me wrapped around his little finger, and never once did he take advantage of it. That playful energy, that calming carelessness and his spirit of adventure have brightened the ennui of my life. I would never feel bored when Bobbie would make an idiot out of himself just to hear me laugh, and never feel alone when he would always be with me, but as we entered into high school, those same feelings of joy were replaced by apprehension. It was freshman year when he changed for the better, those rampant teenage hormones made him irresistible to me. Every awkward movement and every brace-covered smile made him look like angel to me, I didn't care that he looked like a dork, because to me he was already the hottest thing in the entire world, it was not long after that he shot up like a tree. I was a late bloomer, and my childish looks were a sharp contrast to the much taller boy. We became unlikely friends, spurred on by how different we were, but they say that opposites attract. He was the fearless leader, and I was the casual follower, if only he knew then what he knew now, he would have realized that I became a different person when I was with him. At the same time, I knew he had to be aware of how much I had liked him; he had to have seen my admiration turn into pure desire in the space of those 2 years. I just knew he could tell, the way he would complement meant me every day, the way he told me his deepest secrets without a single ounce of fear of my reaction, the way he would grab me by the arm and lead me around his house whenever I visited and the way he would laugh when I turned the deepest shade of red. He loved when I blushed, because it made him smile and laugh, more often than not he would do any just to see me turn away embarrassed. But the question was never that he was gay, he made it perfectly clear the way he acted around me. Everything was a contest when I was present, he would talk faster, and show off more when I became involved in any situation, more often than not every endeavor ended with him saying "What did you think about it Jay?". He would turn into a total spaz when I was even remotely involved, but I loved every single minute of it. I was never concerned that he did not like me, I was concerned that my best friend, the greatest, most beautiful guy in the world would end up forgetting about me; I could never mess it up with a relationship, not when I couldn't do without him. Unsurprisingly, I could never shake the feeling that somewhere, deep down, he knew how I felt, and that was good enough for me. The start of sophomore year was more of the same, except his braces came off to show his perfectly white smile, and he body had begun to fill out more as his awkward little body turned into more adult, and his muscle made him even more attractive. He was no ladies? man, in fact he couldn't care less about the girls chasing after him, which made him all the more attractive to me. I continued reminiscing until I was wrested from my daydreams by the sound of an obnoxious horn, pulling me back into reality, I had realized that I had drifted off, remembering the past, I had forgotten that I was sitting on the porch, waiting for Bobbie to pick me up. He had told me to be waiting outside and hour and that I should be ready to have my mind blown. I could feel my cheeks getting warmer as I took his perfectly innocuous text and thought of what else he could do to blow my mind. He pulled up, fresh from his driving test in a little jeep, a green-dyed monster of a thing with only two seats in it. Bobbie's face was ecstatic, he had wanted to get a car for the past 2 years and he had been counting the days until his test. I couldn't help but be happy for him, he had wanted a jeep more than anything; he said it 'made him look like a rugged man'. Climbing out of his car, he went to meet me as he climbed out onto the sidewalk. "Jay! Jay! Jay! We finally got a ride!" He grabbed me and lifted me up as we met on the sidewalk and broke into excited laughter as I yelled for him to put me down. He went on about something or rather as I got lost in his eyes, a perfect shade of teal; my two favorite colors mixed together which perfectly highlighted his soft brown hair. I had been staring so long that I had begun to lose track of what he had said. "... So what about it Jay?" "What?" "It?s a pretty Friday afternoon, want to go to the park?" In my mind I had already agreed, letting it slip through my lips the second I looked into those teal eyes. He motioned me into the passenger seat while he ran to his door. Starting the car, he took off without any warning, catching my breath in my throat as the sudden lurch of the jeep pushed it forward. There was a certain feeling that I could only feel when around Bobbie, it was like nothing mattered in that moment. He oozed patience and calm, as well as freakish amounts of sexiness, and once you were next to him, it was apparent. My favorite spot was sitting next to Bobbie, anywhere, any place. It became increasing obvious that he wanted us to spend as much time together as possible, he would beg me to sneak out with him every so often; eventually we would just end up sitting in his car in some deserted parking lot, talking about the most trivial things. It was difficult to understand what level our relationship was on at moments like these, sometimes I wonder how many best friends sneak away in the middle of the night to just talk. Not bothering to waste any more time on the subject, I turned on the radio, hoping to drown out the awkward silence of the car, turning on to one of his CD playlists, I had settled on "Soma" by the Strokes. The Strokes were one of Bobbie's favorite bands, and the best way to put him in a good mood was to listen to him sing along to the lyrics of the song, he would mimic the sounds of the drum with his hands. Tapping his hands on the wheel of the car, he looked at me, hoping that, for once, I would sing with him. I was terrible singer, and he was no rock star himself, but I was too self-conscious to ever sing in front of other people, much less him, it was far too embarrassing to even think about doing. The song quickly faded out as he copied the last few beats of "Soma" on the wheel of the car. He eventually came to a stop sign, and turned off the radio as he began asking me about my day. "So how was music class today?" Bobbie was always interested in my music class, and naturally, I wanted to tell him. Being a part of the marching band had its perks, but for a small scrawny kid like myself to play the flute, the 'gayest' instrument in the ensemble, certainly did more harm to my social standing that good. Fortunately enough, aside from the rare insult or joke made at my expense, I was happy to play, much more to play well. Bobbie had wanted to play guitar since he was eight, so the closest he came to being a rock star was vicariously living through my performances with the band. "It was good. We played musically basically" The sarcasm oozing off my answer, he chuckled a little and pushed me in my seat as he took off again. Then he quickly lost his award-winning smile and drifted back into not saying anything. Normally he would have loved to pout and have me ask him what's wrong, but this time he had an expression that I could not understand. It wasn't a pout, it was like he was looking ahead in the street for something that would not come, tensing up at the thought that any second it might just jump out at him. I didn't want to pressure him too much, without turning the radio back on; I sat in silence with him as we kept our eyes on the road, keeping to ourselves until we got to the park.