I Still Need ✓

4. I get asked out by someone I don't like and I say yes

Olivia was a master at blackmailing. And guilt-tripping.

The next day, Dylan and I were sitting next to each other in class with the instruction of asking each other out. Preferably somewhere the coming weeks. Preferably in the presence of Floyd.

But whatever Olivia's impossible demands were, if you asked me, we were not going to do it in his presence. We'd have to act it all out and shit and that would just be way too awkward. Not to mention, doomed to fail. Hence why we would tell Floyd 'afterwards'.

"Dude, when should we do it?" Dylan asked in a hushed whisper.

"Never," I grunted.

"You know we have to do it."

"Yes, I know. I hate Olivia." I covered my face with my hands and told him after a deep sigh, "Let's just do it in a few days. Not now. I've had enough drama for a while."

"Okay, we'll do it next week. I'll ask you out. I mean, we'll tell him I asked you out."

I nodded and then grumbled, "All this talk of us asking each other out... It's weird. And stupid. Why are youasking me anyway?"

"Fuck if I know!" he said, forgetting to keep his voice down, making the teacher send him a warning glare. Dylan sunk down in his chair and whispered, "Does it matter?"

It didn't really matter. It's just that... I'd never been asked out before. I'd asked those former girlfriends out myself—not that they were very heartfelt requests, but that's besides the point—and I'd always imagined I would be the one asking Floyd out. If he were gay, of course. I would never ask a straight guy out.

I couldn't help but think that it was the boy's role to ask a girl out and that's why it felt kind of odd when Dylan said he'd ask me out, but that was ridiculous. Girls asked boys out all the time. And more importantly, we're both boys.

Gosh, why was I even worrying about this? It wasn't something I should feel weird about, so I just had to tell myself to stop thinking that it was.

"No," I admitted and Dylan shrugged and turned his attention back on the teacher, ending our conversation.

I miserably slumped down in my chair.

This was such a strange situation to be in. Dylan and I didn't even like each other and now we were going out on a date together. I'd never imagined this could happen. I found myself wishing I knew another gay boy in my class that I could talk to, go on dates with and fall in love with, or—even better—that Olivia had never come up with this fucking stupid plan in the first place.

Dylan jabbed his elbow in my side—a bit too hard—and said, "Do it."

"No, you do it!" I hissed back as I rubbed the sore spot. "Just fucking tell him."

"It's harder than you think."

"I know." This was weird for both of us. He didn't have to tell me.

He grumbled, walked over to Floyd and when I tried to follow him, he waved me back with a dark glare, so I threw my hands up and stayed behind. I didn't want to miss it, though, so I stood by the wall, (hopefully) discreetly peeking around the corner. Dylan went up to Floyd and said something to him, but I couldn't hear his voice or read his lips to know what he said exactly, so that was pretty damn pointless.

But what was more important was Floyd's reaction. And I could see that perfectly well.

I watched him listen to what Dylan was telling him and I could see the confusion spread across his face. I wasn't very good with lipreading, but I could guess. It looked like he asked, "You asked him out?"