Tim and Wes

Chapter 1 - A lucky meeting

"I am a person with many flaws –I prefer to be honest from the beginning! – but the one I hate the most is my cowardice. I admit it, it's pathetic I know, but it's like that and I have never succeeded in changing it. What's more, this ugly trait always shows itself in the worst situation : love. I have never been able to confess my feelings to anyone. I have no problem picking up, but every time I fall in love, it's impossible to talk to him. Because of that, I "take revenge" accumulating in one-night-stands and easy lovers. Of course that's not the only reason I do this.... I love rough, fast sex with no strings attached. I can't get enough of it –and neither can my lovers!

Wait, how rude of me! Here I am twittering on about my oddities and sexual conquests, and I haven't even introduced myself yet... My name's Timothy, I'm nineteen years old and –if you haven't already guessed– I'm gay !"

I cross out the last sentence and screw up the paper on which I was describing my boring little life. Come on! This text isn't worthy of a literature student !

So, here I am, in my class, listening to my lecture right now... Well, "listening"... I'm actually lost in my dreams, sitting on my chair in the auditorium. While the teacher is talking to the board, I turn my head towards the guy I love. When I first saw him at the beginning of the year, I fell for his charm straightaway. Each time I glimpse at him my little heart tightens up (if we consider I have one, obviously).

Tall, muscular, athletic, blond, matte complexion and blue eyes, he has a grant to play football. Spying on him on the sly during our classes, I feel like a groupie; a kind of hung-up nerd with thick-rimmed glasses who spends her whole time in the library fantasizing about rugby men from her high school (but in a masculine version).

Staring at his nape five or six rows in front of me, I nibble my pen. Unfortunately this dream boy also possesses big imperfections including two terrible ones... One hundred percent hetero. And he has a gorgeous girlfriend, blonde too. What's more, she's a god damn cheerleader. I'm definitely dogged by bad luck.

I glance at my reflection in the window. I think to myself; when I go out, I know I'm appealing. I have a slim body, quite pale skin, big eyes and ebony hair. My angelic mug and my little ass, snuggly fit into jeans, attract more than a look in bars.

But Wes likes girls –there's my biggest problem, along with the fact that Wes and me don't hang out in the same circles. He's rather an early bird, as golden as the sun. He has a group of friends –all sportsmen– all with pea-sized brains. (The kind of boys who find it hilarious to rough up fags and lift girls skirts in the playground). However, I am a night owl. Not really sociable, I don't hang out with a lot of people from university. I often go out at night and I don't talk a lot. The only friends I have here are exes or girls. The latter are at ease going to night clubs with me because they're sure I won't try anything.

Because I'm so shy, I've never spoken to Wes, but I know which question I would ask him first : why in the hell do you follow this literature course when you are on a sports scholarship and there's no reason to attend this type of class?!

I begin to dream, imagining a fictive conversation between us with the sun setting in the background :

"Wes..." I whisper. "Why did you send me a note during lunch?"

"Oh Timothy" he says with a voice full of desire. "Since the first day we met I have loved you to death. I tried to deny it but I know what I really want : you."

"But... and your girlfriend, Wes ?"

"One word from you and she disappears out of my life Tim."

"Oh, Wes, how wonderful ! I love you too !"