A/N: You should totally follow me on the trashy Twitter account I made when I was half asleep {{@loserclubz}}, and add me on snap if you wanna see my horrifying face {{@tbhgoaway}}
Dude, I started this story when I had, like, just turned twelve I think, and so the title is, of course, ridiculously uncreative. I don't have the heart to change it, though, and I think it goes with everything c:
This is awful, by the way. Gotta Zayn. And I put out another Joshler called The Catalyst. It's a dystopian fic and I'm excited about it. Read it if you'd like. Goner is still my main, though.
***
I've only been on three dates in my life, and they were all with this girl named Shannon in eighth grade, because I thought I knew what I was doing, when I really needed my mom to pay for everything. She also acted as our transportation to wherever we were supposed to be going, and, those dates never actually went well. I mean, our relationship ended when I figured out I was gay, and she started to think our relationship was too one-sided. I don't remember when she called me to tell me, but I wasn't upset about it, and so, no. I've never been on a real date. Besides, Shannon was vanilla and sweat, and Josh is smoke and old car seats. Huge difference.
My hands shook with nerves as I buttoned up the flannel I was wearing, knowing the weather wasn't too extreme in either direction. I had on a pair of the tightest blue jeans I owned, and hoped this was causal enough. The sleeves of my flannel were rolled up the smallest amount, so around four inches of my wrist were exposed, but I just shook it off, knowing he wouldn't care. I didn't want anything hidden tonight. Well, anything major. The guidance counselor thing could wait.
I haven't been in my mom's room in a while, but I was standing in front of her full length mirror, trying to control my breathing. The anxiety and nerves running through me was a product of seeing Josh and possibly forgetting how to walk and not knowing how to breathe, and I was terrified. I hoped my outfit was alright for whatever he had planned for the two of us, but I assumed.
He was going to be here in three minutes. It was 6:57, and my heart was caught in my throat. It was a miracle I was still getting air around it, but I just walked as calmly as possible into the hallway, taking one more deep, shattering breath, before gathering the strength to move down the stairs. Most of the time, my mom worked seven to seven, but she was on eight to eight now, and she was sitting in the kitchen. I could hear her. The sound she made when she was drinking coffee, the noise created when she opened the cabinets. I didn't know if she was being quiet for a reason, but she wasn't doing a decent job, in my opinion.
My footsteps were silent, seeing as I didn't have my shoes on just yet, and I wanted to go back up the stairs as soon as I saw the front door. Plus, I didn't know how to get past my mom without asking any questions, but she really didn't matter nearly as much as Josh did. So I made my way to my black shoes on the floor, slipped them on my feet, and stood there like an idiot waiting for something they might not even get.
What if he forgot? What if he just didn't want to be with me anymore? People change their mind all the time, but I didn't want him to. I want him to care for me as much as I cared for him, and I wanted him to be here. It was 6:59 now.
"What're you doing?" My mom asked, her eyebrows raised towards the clipboard on the table. "Get away from the door."
"I-I have a date."
The air was tense and heavy between the two of us, her body language rigid and incredulous. Her knuckles were void of color against the handle of her mug, and her long hair swished back and forth when she turned her head. "Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?" She asked me cautiously.
"Mom, please, I really want to g-" I started, but was cut off by the sound of a doorbell. My heart sank with relief, because I knew my mom wasn't one to embarrass herself, and I took a few seconds to answer the door, waiting behind it so that I didn't seem desperate. I checked my hair in the small mirror she set by the door one last time, brushing a few pieces back in place, before filling my lungs with one more aching breath, and opening the door as calmly as possible.
And there he stood, in all his unbelievable glory. The sun was already going down a bit, and so the porch light was on, his features illuminated greatly. His eyes brightened at the sight of me standing in the doorway, his eye crinkles on full display, and I thought I was going to die from feeling so mortified.
"Hi," I whispered, my eyes flickering up to his. He was wearing a loose t-shirt and black jeans, and more relief fell through me. I was dressed okay, at least. "Say something."
He swallowed, eyes moving over my body at an inhuman speed, before moving back up to mine. He bit at his lip, and I wanted to tell him not to do that because of the unthinkable feeling it brought on, but he just shook his head. "W-wow." He breathed. "Wow, um. You look amazing."
I giggled, a blush coating my cheeks. "Do you mean that or are you just being stupid?"
He blinked up at me, and then I realized that I should probably go outside. My mom made a good job of keeping herself hidden, and I closed the door behind me, falling into the safety of his arms. "I mean it. Never seen anything better," he breathed, wrapping his arms around my waist. My hands made a home on his shoulders, and he looked down at me, nudging his forehead against mine. "Don't know how you do it," he shook his head in mock frustration. "And now, I'm going to take you to have a wonderful, wonderful time, you gorgeous human being."
~~~
First Date by Blink-182 was moving through the car, and I rolled my eyes at the lyrics, still in shock over the fact that this was actually happening.
"I waited down the street until there was only a minute until seven, because my dad and I have this thing where we literally show up on the dot, and it's stupid, but it's fun," he shrugged, his hand grabbing onto mine. "Which is why I promised you I would be there at seven. Because I was going to be."
"Your dad sounds fun," I smiled, my eyes locked on the Columbus roads, so that I didn't stare at Josh. "Wait, where are we going?"
He grinned, pushing his lips into a thin line to attempt to push it down. "There's this rundown movie theater that shows little projections in these rooms with no seats, and so I hope you don't have joint problems," he explained. "Or an extreme, intense fear of bugs," he laughed, tapping his thumb against my hand. "Maybe I'm kidding about the last part."
~~~
To my surprise, the theater wasn't empty. There was a few teenagers in here, and I could smell the smoke in the air. But it wasn't cigarette. It was fire.
"Hey, Bill," Josh said loudly, practically screaming, with his hand in mine. Our fingers were laced as we moved forward, towards the small booth a man, apparently Bill, sat in, waving to us lazily. Josh turned to me, smiling. "Bill can't hear, like, at all, so you have to scream. But he likes new people," Josh informed, lightly nudging me forward. "This is my boyfriend, Tyler."
Bill had long hair, and looked at about 50 years old, with hunched shoulders and a wide nose. He had tan skin and a limp in his stride, making his way around to the two of us. He was laughing in a happy, lively way, wrapping one of his arms around Josh's shoulders and squeezing. Then, he signed something to him, and Josh nodded.
"He wants to know if you actually like me," Josh smiled, shaking his head.
I nodded, smiling back at the two of them. "Tell him that I like you a lot."
~~~
We ended up watching The Breakfast Club, with three other people on the other side of the room, though no one paid attention to anyone else. I've seen the movie before, and I tried desperately not to stare at Josh too hard, but I did anyway. The movie reflected directly into his astonishing eyes, and I would much rather have watched it there, but I settled for fitting my body into his side, the cold of his body transferring to mine. But instead of cold, it was warm.
And as cliche as it was, I knew this is were I needed to be. At least for the time being.
~~~
"I've never seen that one before, but I am very thankful for the fact that I watched it," he nodded, his hand in mine again. "I'm just glad I watched it with you. You have such a cute, small body, you know."
Laughter rocked the car, and I shook my head. "Be quiet."
"If you tell me to be quiet again, you're not getting ice cream tonight."
"I'll be quiet then," I snickered, pressing a kiss to his jaw.
I could see his breath stuttering in his chest. "Don't do that."
"Do what?"
He sighed deeply, his hands tense on the steering wheel. "You know," he groaned. "Don't, like, kiss me there. It turns me on." He admitted, blushing.
I tried to fight back my smile, knowing I never could around him, turning my eyes back to the road. "Does it?"
"Why wouldn't it? You're kind of sexy," he said casually, not knowing how much his words impacted me.
"Uhm," I laughed, shaking my head. "That's a new one."
"Has no one ever told you that before?" He questioned, turning into the parking lot of Scoop. "Because if not, I am appalled."
"That's a strong word," I teased, my eyebrows raised. "Appalled." I repeated, shaking my head. "And, no. Because I am not sexy."
"That's the word of a perpetual liar," he said slowly, taking the keys from the ignition. Both of us were blushing, but a surge of confidence ran through me, and I moved my lips to the same spot again, making him go rigid for the second time. I didn't give an explanation before I hopped out of the car, leaving him there while I opened the door to the small little shop, leaving him there.
~~~
At the end of the night, I was beyond glad my mom kept silent, and that I managed to shove down my nerves. Because Josh tasted like bubblegum ice cream, and his lips were literally a drug, and whoever introduced me to it has me fully, completely, utterly irrevocably addicted.
My legs were around his waist, my arms strung over his broad shoulders, and blink-182 was covering the sounds are bodies were making. And I've never given a hickey in my life, but my lips were attached to that sensitive spot just above his gorgeous neck, the tendons in his hands and his arms strung tightly. His fingers were reaching up my shirt, and I could feel his breath stuttering inside of him, trying not to melt with the way he was pulling me closer to him. The skin was a dark red by the time I had finished, and I ran my tongue over the spot, eliciting another small whine from him. It barely rattled his vocal chords, but it sounded so desperate and torn apart, and he leaned his head back against the seat, both of us trying to steady ourselves.
"I don't," he whispered, "I don't know how many times you're going to make me lose my breath tonight. Or for as long as I know you. Probably going to need an inhaler."
***
A/N: I have a question for you guys. Do you remember how you discovered this book? Because I wanna know c: