Date: Sun, 31 May 2009 16:37:23 -0400 From: J. B. August Subject: Impact: Chapter 4- Too Close for Comfort Impact: Chapter 4- Too Close for Comfort Fun Fact: Tyler was not originally going to have such a large role in the story, at least not until later. I had another character lined up for that spot with a completely different personality and back story. But I really grew attached to Tyler's character after the first scene with him in the Bistro, and decided to bump up his role a little. I'm pretty glad I did at this point. I wonder how things would have been different in the story if I had gone with the other character. . . Thanks to everyone who has been sending me comments in. I really do appreciate it, and as anyone who sends comments in will tell you, I do respond to them. For those of you too shy to send in a comment, or for those who have never sent in a comment to anyone before, give it a shot. I swear I don't bite. Plus, I've been there before. I had never once sent anyone a comment before writing this story. But I do like to read what you guys think about the way things are shaping up. Tell me what you would like to see happen etc. I have an editor now. I am very glad to everyone who volunteered for the job in the past week. I was blown away by the number of people offering to help. If something falls through with my current editor, I will be contacting one of you guys. I'm sorry for the long delay. Chapter 4 turned out being a lot longer than I thought it would originally, and then there was the whole thing about dealing with an editor for the first time. Mostly though, I wanted to make sure it was perfect before posting it this time. The other chapters have had a couple mistakes here and there. I am striving to virtually eliminate the mistakes. Thanks again to all my readers, and hopefully you will enjoy the next chapter of Impact! P.s. I believe this chapter might have just a taste of what you readers are hoping for. Tell me what you think. Cheers, J.B. *Beep* "Goway" *Beep* "Jusfivemoreminutes" *Beep* "Ugh." I rolled over onto my side with an aggravated grunt and wiped the sleep from my eyes in one long, lazy movement. The continuing *beep* *beep* *beep* from the clock was managing to find and aggravate every raw nerve in my body, and I could already feel a headache coming on. Using one arm as a shield against the light, which threatened to blind me if I opened my eyes too quickly, I waved the other arm blindly towards the bedside table where I knew the clock would be. After some fumbling around, I finally managed to locate the button I was looking for. The clock gave one last shrill *beep* before I was finally rewarded for my efforts by sweet silence. I slowly opened one eye at a time to allow them time to adjust to the light pouring through the large double length windows in at the end of the bed. It was still early; I knew that without even cracking an eyelid. I usually set my clock for 8:30 in the morning so I'd have plenty of time to get ready for work during the week. I had obviously forgotten to turn it off for the weekend. Once I was able to keep my eyes open, I let my attention wander to the window and I watched as the sun gradually rose higher and higher into the sky. When we moved into this house, my bed had been placed in just the right position to face the sunrise every morning. In spite of the obvious difficulties this caused on days when I wanted to sleep in, I had never moved the bed because it was a nice to wake up to. Even if the alarm didn't wake me, the sun did on most days. In the many years my mother and I had lived in this house, I had yet to put up any curtains. It wasn't because I was lazy exactly; it was just that during the school year it didn't matter if I had curtains or not because I was up so early every morning, and during the summer, I had always been more concerned about hanging with my friends and having fun than taking on the task of hanging curtains. On the bright side (no pun intended), it did keep me from sleeping until noon every day like most teenagers. My eyes wandered from the window to the bedside table where my alarm clock was. I'd gotten the clock as a present when I was five. Several years ago, my mom had tried to throw the thing out. She told me that a boy my age shouldn't have such a childish toy. I managed to dig it out of the trash when she wasn't looking and kept it anyway. It had too much sentimental value, and besides, why should I throw away a perfectly good clock just because it had pictures of the five original power rangers on it? The clock read 8:45, which meant two things: first, my mom was already at work. I had a new-found respect for her now that I had a job of my own. I still couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to work six days a week. There were some instances during the busiest parts of the year when she even worked Sundays. I often told her she should just tell her work that she wasn't coming in one day. What could they do? She just as often reminded me that her co-worker Nancy had gotten fired for doing exactly that. The time showing on the clock also meant that I had slept nearly twelve hours. I rarely slept that much, and I was a little surprised I hadn't woken up earlier, considering how early I'd gone to bed. I laid back again and closed my eyes for a moment to let my sleep-fogged brain start to gather itself together. I had been dreaming about something very nice before the alarm had so rudely interrupted me, but as hard I as I tried, I couldn't quite remember what it had been about. My best guess was that it had been about a boy. I often had dreams about cute boys. I wracked my brain trying to remember the details. Which boy? Had it been about Tyler maybe. . .? `Tyler!' I yelped sitting bolt upright in my bed. My mind was still fuzzy from too much sleep, and I was finding it difficult to think straight. Questions were racing through my head at speeds that greatly exceeded the normal speed limit of my brain, and I was having trouble keeping track and catching up. At the top of the list of questions was whether or not Tyler even really existed. Had I just dreamed him up? I didn't think it had all been a dream, but I also found it difficult to believe that any of last night had actually happened. Boys like that just didn't appear in my life. I wasn't that lucky. I hopped out of bed and hurried over to the window. I let out a long sigh of relief almost the moment I had made it to the window. I could see the house next door, and sure enough, sitting out front still parked in driveway was the large yellow moving truck. Unlike yesterday though, the yard showed no signs of life. There were no movers outside, there was no April, and most depressing of all, there was no Tyler. Now that the dam of uncertainties in my head had broken, the flood of memories rushed back into my mind and I felt a huge grin spread across my face. I had met the most wonderful, adorable, perfect boy yesterday! And then I had found out that he was living right next door to me! And then, as if those two things weren't good enough, he wanted to hang out with me again...TODAY! Okay, I kind of tricked him into promising to come over, but he had definitely seemed excited about it...hadn't he? I hoped that he hadn't already knocked on the door while I was sleeping. Maybe he had, and when I didn't answer, he had decided I didn't want to hang with him. I didn't know what I would do if that were the case. I took a deep breath. I attempted to calm my racing mind. I tried to talk some sense into myself. Even if he had come over earlier, which he almost definitely had not, he would have assumed I was sleeping and would be back later. Unfortunately, there wasn't any room for sense in my mind because at that moment, it was otherwise preoccupied with processing a thousand different reasons why things could and would go wrong, if they hadn't already. Maybe Tyler would decide he hated me once he saw me again, or maybe he already hated me and just wanted to be nice to me yesterday until he could get away. The self-doubts continued on and got more and more ridiculous by the second. There was some small part of me that knew I was just being stupid, but the other, much larger and more insecure part of me that had become completely smitten by the boy next door, stubbornly refused to listen to reason. I needed to do something with myself other than standing by the window in just a pair of black boxer briefs, so I decided to catch a quick shower. What could that hurt? I could be in and out in five minutes if I needed to, and even if Tyler rang the doorbell while I was showering, I was fairly certain I could make it downstairs before he decided I wasn't home. I turned the water on, pulled out my tooth brush, and began cleaning my teeth at the sink while the shower warmed up. I took a moment to admire my reflection as I scrubbed. I was a skinny kid. I always had been. It didn't matter how much I ate, I never seemed to put on any weight. My mom always told me I had the metabolism of a horse or something like that. My skin wasn't pale, but I wasn't very tanned either. It was still the beginning of the summer though, and I would probably get a pretty good tan in the next few weeks if I laid out once in a while. My upper body was completely hairless except for the little bit that had just started growing under my arms a couple of months ago. I wasn't overly muscular, and it was easy to see that I wasn't very active in sports. I'd always been more into the arts, like painting, drawing, and such. Still, I lifted weights about once a week - I didn't normally bother going more than that because I thought it was extremely boring - and I was pretty content with the muscles I did have. I did notice that the beginnings of a pretty nice six-pack were just starting to appear. The brown, shaggy mop on my head was long enough that it was approaching my shoulders. It wasn't curly, but it was wavy if I didn't brush it in the mornings, which I rarely ever did. I was often mistaken for a skater because of my long hair and skinny frame, but in reality I had never once set foot on a skateboard, much less done any tricks on one. I was also constantly told that I looked young for my age. I suppose that had to do with my being thin as well, but I think it was mostly my face that gave people that impression. When people met me for the first time, they would often guess me to be around fourteen or fifteen. I pretended that it bothered me, but I actually liked looking younger than I was. The thing about it that really did bother me was that the faculty and the other students at school constantly mistook me for a freshman. The really sad part was that I would be a senior in the upcoming school year. Maybe my new standing in the social hierarchy of high school would help people remember who I was next school year. Steam had begun to fog up the mirror by the time I was finished brushing my teeth. I put my toothbrush back in the holder, slipped off my boxer briefs and jumped under the jet of water. The liquid beating on my back was hot enough to sting a bit, but I liked my showers hot; it helped me wake up in the morning. Ten minutes later I was downstairs in the kitchen, dressed and ready for Tyler's arrival. I grabbed a bowl of cheerios, a banana, and a glass of OJ before sitting down to enjoy my breakfast. After taking only a few bites of my cereal, I realized that I wouldn't be able to finish it all. My stomach felt like it was turning somersaults in my throat, which made it hard to swallow anything. Now I understood what people meant when they talked about having butterflies in your stomach. When I burped, I half expected one to flutter out of my mouth. I settled for shoving down half the bowl of cereal before dumping the rest in the sink. I drank the rest of the juice and returned the unpeeled banana to the basket in the middle of the kitchen island. I couldn't wait for Tyler to ring the door bell. I had finally managed to convince myself with reasonable certainty that he really was going to come over, but the waiting was killing me. I was excited, nervous, elated, worried, jumpy, and eager to see him all at the same time. I decided to park myself in front of the TV to pass the time until he came. I settled on Nickelodeon, which was running a Sponge Bob marathon. I still loved cartoons, and I normally enjoyed the show a lot, but it barely held my attention at that moment. I jumped at every noise, ready to run to the door if it was Tyler. I even put the phone next to me on the couch so I would be able to reach it in case he called. It didn't matter that I hadn't given him my number; better safe than sorry! No call came from the boy next door, although I did get a call from my mom at one point asking how my day had gone yesterday and inquiring about the new neighbors. My mom wasn't a big phone talker, but she made a point of calling me every day if she didn't get to see me. She barely seemed interested in Tyler, which really annoyed me for some reason. She was very interested in April though; my mom thought she might have seen her in magazines before. The conversation ended with the normal goodbyes and I-love-yous, along with the promise that she would be home by 5:00 PM at the latest. I considered going over to Tyler's house, but I didn't want to look desperate. I could have gone over and offered to help out a little with moving stuff again, but what if April didn't want my help and turned me away? Or worse still, what if she *did* want my help and I was stuck there all day? I stayed on the couch for more than 3 hours, Sponge Bob serving as my lone companion in misery. My hopes were growing thinner by the second. If Tyler had planned on visiting, he would have already been here. Sponge Bob was beginning to get on my nerves, but I couldn't even find the energy to pick up the remote and change the channel; I was too depressed. Every time he let out that annoying high pitched laugh, I felt like he was laughing at me. It was like the beeping of the alarm clock all over again, except worse. The television seemed to know how stupid I was. By 12:20, I had pretty much conceded that Tyler probably wasn't going to show up. Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a faint knock at the front door. I thought I was just hearing things at first, and I couldn't bring myself to get up only to find that nobody was there. A few moments later though, I heard another soft rapping noise come from the entryway. I jumped from my spot on the couch faster than if I had just been shot from a gun and practically danced over to the front door. Through the glass panes at the side of the door, I saw the smiling, slightly nervous-looking face of the most adorable boy in the entire world. I felt my heart melt all over again. He was here! He had actually come over! I pawed frantically at my hair, trying to fix the damage that had been done to it by laying against the couch while it was still wet. I was quickly running out of time though, so I would just have to leave it as it was. My hand was shaking with barely contained excitement when I slowly opened the door. Tyler stood on the porch beaming up at me. He wore a light pink, Hawaiian-style flowered shirt, a pair of white shorts cargo shorts that came just above his knees, and a pair of brown flip-flops. The top two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing just enough of the skin on his chest to make my mind wander momentarily back to what I had seen in his room the other day. In his left hand he held a black bag containing who knew what. "You gonna invite me in, or do you want a little more time to look me over first. I mean, I can wait." To emphasize his statement, he began whistling and shuffling his feet back and forth in a comical manner. I nearly choked on my tongue at his words. I tried to say something, anything, but managed instead to only cough and splutter like a madman. I don't think I had ever been more embarrassed in my entire life. I'd been caught... he had noticed me checking him out! I could feel the skin on my face boiling with the heat of a rising blush, and even worse, I knew that he could see it. No, wait...that wasn't it, I tried to reassure myself. He had only said that because I had taken too long to invite him in. I didn't waste any more time moving out of the way for him to pass. I didn't even try to say anything else. I didn't trust that anything I could say would come out correctly if I tried. I just showed him in by extending my hand. Tyler stepped through the opening and shut the door behind him. When I still didn't say anything, he looked concerned. "Do you not want me here or something?" he asked. "I can leave...I just thought..." I could hear the disappointment and sadness in his voice, and it broke my heart. "NO!" I blurted out, perhaps a little too loudly, "I mean, of course I want you to...that is...I just didn't think you were coming is all." Tyler looked confused, "I promised that I was coming over, remember?" "Yeah," I muttered. I looked down at the floor feeling a little ashamed. I had made him promise as much. Was that the reason he was over here, so I wouldn't tell his mom about all the pop he drank? "Uh, you know I was just kidding about telling your mom right? I wouldn't do that. If the only reason you're over here is because -" "Shaye...puh-leeze," he said as he moved his free hand to his hip, "I'm not like, eight, you know. I knew you weren't going to tell my mom." He looked so cute in that position, like he was posing for a picture. I stared at him dumbly. "You knew?" I said. I realized only after I had spoken that I had been completely obvious in betraying my surprise. I worked to keep my voice as casual and non-threatening as possible this time as I joked with him a little, attempting to regain command of the situation again. "I mean, how do you know I still won't tell her?" Tyler wasted no time in answering. "Because you're my friend, and friends don't tell on each other," he said simply. I felt a wave of happiness more powerful than anything I had felt in a long time rush over me. I was his friend! He had actually called me his friend! I didn't deserve this, I didn't deserve Tyler. He was so...so everything. There just weren't enough words in the dictionary to describe how perfect this boy really was. I managed to hold back my excitement, covering my emotions up with an exaggerated rolling of my eyes and a huge fake sigh. "Fine, you win. I wasn't going to tell her," I said. I reached over to take the bag from him so I could put it away like a good host, but he flinched back as if I had tried to hit him. "I'm sorry," I said and immediately pulled my hand back. "I just want to carry my own bag is all," he replied immediately. He seemed a little defensive, and I didn't know whether or not to believe him. Before I had fully decided to ask him about it though, he spoke up again. "So what are we going to do today, anyway?" "Whatever you want!" I said as I began walking through the hallway and into the kitchen. I glanced back to make sure that Tyler was following me. "But first, I'm starving. I haven't eaten anything since breakfast. You want something?" I made my way to the pantry and pulled out a box of uncooked spaghetti. "Um...that's okay. I don't wanna eat your food or anything. Plus, I'm not really very hungry." "Tyler, you don't have to worry about eating our food. We have plenty, I promise. I was going to make a whole bunch of noodles anyway." "Well I guess if you have extra then..." He was so charming and so considerate. He didn't want to eat because he thought it would be rude. "Good. Now, do you like sauce on your spaghetti?" "Mm-hmm," he said, nodding his head as he moved to sit on one of the stools by the island. "Can you put that bag down?" I asked. "I'm starting to think you're carrying a gun in there or something." Tyler laughed heartily at that, but he *did* put the bag down. I loved that laugh. As if on cue, I heard Sponge Bob laughing on the television from the other room. Tyler looked at me, turned his head towards the room from which he had heard Sponge Bob, and then began to laugh even harder. I couldn't help but join him. "It's a towel," he said after we had calmed down. "Huh?" I replied stupidly, not quite catching on to what he meant. "A towel. That's what's in the bag. It's a towel." "What did you bring a -" I started to say, and I immediately felt like an idiot. He brought a towel with him because he wanted to go swimming. I was actually going to get to see this wonderful, amazing boy in a bathing suit. It had been a passing dream yesterday; I never thought he would actually come over here to swim - well, not this soon, anyway! I wondered what he was planning to wear for swimming, and more importantly, where he was planning on changing. From my position next to the pantry, I could see his feet dangling a few inches above the ground. He wasn't quite tall enough to sit on the stool and touch the floor at the same time. I had never been a foot person, meaning I didn't obsess over feet. I didn't even think they were all that attractive; in fact, most people's feet just grossed me out. But after sneaking a peek at Tyler's feet, I could sort of understand how someone might think feet were attractive, maybe. Tyler had the cutest little feet I had ever seen, hands down. "You did say I could swim whenever I wanted, right?" he asked shyly. "Well..." I said after a moment, realizing that he probably wanted an answer. "I don't have a problem with it. As long as you ask your mom, I mean." "I already did," he replied quickly. "She almost didn't let me. Didn't even want me coming over here again today. She said I was bothering you. I told her you asked me to come over, but she didn't believe me. I kept pestering her though, so she finally said okay. That's kinda why I was so late. I was up at like 7:00, but she made me wait." Well, that explained things. At least now I knew he wasn't late because he didn't want to see me. In fact, judging by what he'd just said, he wanted to come over as soon as he woke up. A smile spread over my face despite my best efforts to hide it. Tyler, ever the observant little detective, picked up on it immediately. "What's so funny?" he asked with just the slightest hint of a whine entering his voice. "Nothing," I replied hastily. "Of course you can swim. Just let me get some noodles on the stove real quick, and we can go out together." "Sweet!" Tyler exclaimed as he jumped down from his chair and hopped over to my side. "Can I help out a little? I've never cooked pasta before." "You've never cooked pasta before?" I asked in surprise. "Not even Easy-Mac or anything?" "That doesn't count," he giggled. "Easy-Mac is...well...you just heat it up in the microwave, so it's not really cooking." "I guess you're right," I conceded with a smile at his logic. "Well, pasta's pretty easy too. All you have to do is..." Ten minutes later we had a pot full of water boiling on the stove and about half a package of spaghetti noodles fully submerged in it. Tyler had done most of the work filling the pot with water, turning on the stove, and pouring the pasta in. I didn't have any objections. It wasn't like he could mess it up; it was only pasta, after all. I did stand over his shoulder the whole time to make sure nothing serious went wrong, though. Tyler seemed to be having a blast. He told me that he had not only never cooked pasta, but he had never made or even helped make anything that wasn't cooked in a microwave or toaster. I couldn't believe it. I had been cooking since I was nine at the oldest. My mom was a very loving person, but she rarely had the time or energy to cook once she got home from work. I learned at a very young age that if I wanted a home-cooked meal, I had to make it myself. The internet is a wonderful thing, and with only a little effort, I soon learned the best places to find good recipes. I eagerly learned to make all kinds of meals; it was another outlet for my more artsy side. My mom was pleased about it too, since I cooked a lot of meals for both of us. While Tyler and I were cooking, I also learned that up until now, he had always had a nanny to take care of him after school and during the summer. "So someone other than your parents took care of you all the time?" I asked. I didn't fully believe him. Of all the pompous, stuck up individuals I had met at school, I had not known very many who had actually had a full-time nanny until they were eleven. Far be it from me to judge a family for hiring a nanny, but it made me kind of sad that Tyler's parents had been too busy to take care of him when he was young. "My whole life," he said simply, flashing his perfect smile my way. "Doesn't that bother you?" I asked as I reached into the cupboard for the jar of pasta sauce. He looked genuinely confused. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I mean...to be forced to spend time with someone who isn't your family," I said. "I dunno, it would just bother me is all." Tyler seemed to consider that for a moment. I found the jar I was looking for and moved over to the stove again. Tyler was frowning up at me, his brow furrowed in a way that almost made me want to laugh. He was absolutely adorable, and what was so great about it was that he had absolutely no idea how cute he was. "So, does that mean you don't wanna hang out or something?" he asked suddenly. I stumbled over my own feet and nearly dropped the jar on the floor. I grabbed the edge of the counter for support and turned to look at Tyler. His face was impossible to read; emotionless and stony. He was in detective mode, and I was on trial again. I was beginning to feel that Tyler might be a little too observant for his own good. I reminded myself again that I needed to watch what I said around him. "Is that what I said?" I asked him gently. "No, but you said yesterday that you came over to help out because your mom asked you to, right?" he asked. "How do I know that she didn't ask you to take me out to eat and be my friend, too?" I couldn't believe he was serious. I didn't understand why he was so defensive, so ready to believe that I was out to hurt him. Even at such a humorless moment, I couldn't help but notice how sexy his voice was and how unbelievably attractive he was. His occasional bouts of being overly serious only gave new dimensions to his personality. He was observant as hell, and extremely intelligent. Not trying to toot my own horn or anything, but he reminded me a lot of myself when I was a little younger. "Tyler..." I began in a hurt voice. "That's not it at all. I'm sorry, I didn't mean that I didn't want to spend time with you. If I didn't want you around, I wouldn't have invited you over. I like hanging with you little man, and I mean it." He weighed my words without speaking. I didn't know what to do. Just standing there felt so awkward, but I didn't want to turn away either. He finally smiled, and I knew everything would be okay again. "Don't call me `little man'," he said, shoving me lightly on my shoulder. "Ooooohhh...now you're gonna get it!" I exclaimed. I dug my fingers into his side just below his ribs before he had time to react. There was a moment when I first made contact that I thought he might be mad at me for tickling him, but by then it was too late to stop myself. His big blue eyes flew open wide in shock, and then he burst out in fit after fit of screaming giggles. He squirmed away from me and took off running for the living room. I chased him around the house for a few minutes before eventually pinning him on the couch and tickling him until he screamed "uncle". I was slightly out of breath, so I released him and fell back onto the couch with my arm lying across the back. Tyler fell in next to me and rolled up under my arm, panting for air. "Not...fair..." he wheezed. "Well, it's not my fault you're so ticklish...little man." That got the intended rise out of him. He shoved his elbow into my side in retaliation. It wasn't hard enough to hurt me, but I acted like it was. When he leaned closer to me because he thought I was hurt, I grabbed him, dragged him over to the couch again, and began tickling. He didn't give up nearly so easily this time, and we continued to play-fight for several minutes. I let him get the best of me a couple times to let him think he had a fighting chance, but I was pretty ticklish myself, so when he started jabbing his own fingers in my side I decided to end it. I took a leap that I wasn't entirely certain I should take and let my hand wander down the inside of one of his thighs, squeezing my fingers in and out as I went. Tyler shrieked loudly and began laughing harder than ever. "Uncle! Uncle! UNCLE!" he gasped. By the time he said that, he was laughing so hard that I had already stopped for fear that he might suffocate. My left hand was still lying on the inside of his thigh while my right arm was wrapped around his middle with that hand resting on his back. I could feel the silky fabric of his shorts and the thin material of his boxers underneath them. My hand was right there, so close to the young member of the boy of my dreams. It would have been so easy, so very easy, for me to move my finger just an inch upwards...just one inch. What would he say if I did? How would he respond? As Tyler's breathing began to slow down, I could feel mine speeding up. No, I needed to stop this. This was wrong. I couldn't take advantage of him like that. It would be totally breaking the trust he had so willingly given me, the trust that his mother said he NEVER gave to anyone else. No...I couldn't do that to him. I felt sick with shame. Sick that I wanted so badly to touch him like that. He was so young, just a boy, after all. Society said it was wrong, and they were right. I had to tame my feelings, to hold them back and control them. I couldn't subject Tyler to something that would hurt him, something he wasn't ready for. For god's sake, I had only met the boy yesterday, and here I was ready to jump down his pants. A minute must have passed, and neither of us moved a centimeter. Tyler stared directly into my eyes, and I stared back. Even as I was trying to build up walls to defend against what he was doing to me, I could feel them crumbling to dust. I simply couldn't resist those bright orbs, those lively and intelligent eyes that were the lightest, most beautiful blue I had ever seen. We were lying together on the couch only inches apart now. We were so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek, smell the scent of fresh cleanliness on his skin, count the freckles on his nose. I wanted so badly to just lean in, to close those last couple inches of distance. I held back. Tyler never broke eye contact. He bit his lip in that way that drove me absolutely crazy. I had to get myself out of this now before it was too late. I was losing the battle, losing control of my emotions, losing control of myself. Abruptly, he spoke in a low, husky voice just above a whisper, a voice that I loved so much. "You know, you might want to move your hand off my leg. I think I'm beginning to like it." Slowly, deliberately, Tyler pressed his small hips further into my hand, gradually pushing his small body into mine. My heart had stopped cold, I was certain of it. I couldn't breathe, much less move. Had he just said what I thought he had said? Had he just done what I thought he had done? He stared intently into my eyes and bit his lower lip once more. He had pushed up so close to me now that I could feel the crease where his thigh and little prick met. Tyler moaned softly, wrapping his arm around my neck and pulling me in even closer. My face was so close to his that I could almost taste his lips. I closed my eyes in preparation for what I knew was coming, in preparation for the kiss, letting him lead the way. Suddenly, without even the slightest warning, Tyler began to laugh. Not a giggle, not a chuckle, but a big belly laugh that shook both of our bodies. I opened my eyes and stared, dumbfounded. It was the one time when I wasn't driven to chuckles of my own by his laughter. I was at a loss. What was going on? What was so funny? Tyler pulled away and sat up next to me. I mimicked his movement and pulled away as well. I wasn't sure what had just happened. Every time he looked like he was going to be able to speak, he would turn my way and start laughing all over again. Tears began to appear in the corners of his eyes from laughing so much. I could feel my own tears beginning to gather, but for an entirely different reason. I was hurt. He was laughing at me. Laughing and laughing, and I didn't know why. I didn't even know what had just happened. I blinked my tears away before they could fully form. Letting him see me like that wasn't likely to help the situation, even if I was able to figure out what the situation was. "I'm sorry...I'm really sorry," he wheezed after he was able to calm down a notch, "but you should have seen your face. I was just kidding around. I couldn't help it. I didn't think I would get such a rise out of you." He giggled some more, apparently ready for me to join in on the laughter at the trick he had pulled. I had so many thoughts and feelings going through my head at that moment, I didn't know what to do. I smiled for his benefit though. He had just been making a joke to lighten the mood. After all, it must have been awkward for him with me laying there for so long with my hand on his thigh. But Jesus, he had almost given me a heart attack, and I was only 17. I thought for a moment that he really wanted to...that he really wanted me to... I did manage to laugh a little, but it sounded forced, even to me. I stood up suddenly to try to divert as much attention from what had just happened as possible. I didn't want to think about it. Not now, not with him there. I had been so close to doing it, so close to kissing him. I had thought he wanted it, was sure he wanted it, but it had all just been a game to him. What would he have done if I had actually kissed him? If I had done more? Would he had left? Would he have told his mom? I seriously needed to cool off. "You about ready to jump in the pool?" I asked him. It seemed to work better than I expected. Less than a second after the question was out of my mouth, Tyler was up at my side. "Yeah!" he said excitedly. "Come on, let's go out there now." "Don't you have to change or something?" I asked as I slowly gathered my wits about me once more. Visions of what had just happened were still racing in through my mind. I would likely have trouble sleeping tonight. He suddenly looked deflated. "Aww, crap! I forgot to bring my bathing suit!" Aww, crap indeed. That meant he would have to go back home to get his bathing suit, which then meant that he would probably be changing into his bathing suit there. Well, I could still get lucky. He might bring his clothes back here so he could put them on after he was done swimming... No! I had to stop those kinds of thoughts before they got me into trouble. Why did I care where he changed? I doubted I would get to watch anyway. I didn't think Tyler was the kind of kid who would strip in front of someone he had just met the day before. It shouldn't matter to me whether he changed into his swim suit at home. But it did matter. It was just the thought, the idea of him being naked in my house, even for just a minute, even if I didn't get to see it. "Well, you can head back over to your house to get it real quick if you want, the pool isn't going anywhere." I secretly hoped he would bring his bathing suit back here to change. I would wait just in case and then offer to change in the same room as him. Tyler surprised me again though with his response. He almost gave me another heart attack, actually. "I'll just swim in my boxers," he said nonchalantly. "You don't mind do you?" Did I mind? That was like me asking him if he minded me buying him a brand new Nintendo Wii. I didn't think I would have minded anything less, unless, of course, he had asked if I minded him skinny dipping. "Well, no..." I was already blushing at the mere thought of Tyler stripping off his shorts in front of me. Man, I needed to find a way to slow down my hormones! I needed a little time alone, just a minute, to calm down. I would also have to find a way to hide certain areas of my body until I was in the pool or there might be problems. I headed upstairs under the pretense of going to change into my bathing suit. I was secretly hoping Tyler might follow me to my room, but he didn't. That was probably a good thing; I don't think I could have kept certain parts of my anatomy in a resting state if he had. One thing was for certain, this had already been quite possibly the craziest day of my life, and it wasn't even 1:00 in the afternoon yet.