I was standing at my locker on Monday when a hand roughly and abruptly clapped me on the shoulder. I jumped and accidentally slammed my locker shut.
"Shit," I exclaimed, heart beating fast. I turned my head and glared at Anthony as he grinned back at me. "Great, now I have to redo the combo, you ass. Don't do that!"
Anthony laughed at me and I ignored him as I put my combination back into the lock so I could get my things for my next class. I had Anatomy next and that was probably the most boring class I had--well, next to History, at least. I finally pulled my locker door open again and resumed putting the needed books into my backpack.
"Don't be such a whiner, man," Anthony said, still laughing at me. I gave him a glare and slammed my locker, that was located outside, closed and started to walk away down the sidewalk heading for the building I needed. Anthony was right at my side in a second. "Anyway, bro, you missed a sick party this weekend. Nathan somehow convinced Natasha Inez to go topless in the pool with him."
I turned to him with raised eyebrows and a slightly impressed-mixed-with-surprised expression. "You're joking, right?"
Anthony smirked wide. "Not even. Damn, that girl is smoking hot. And even better without clothes." I just shook my head and laughed. My best friend slapped me on the arm. "Don't even tell me you're not getting a boner just imagining it, Harles."
I laughed, an expert at dealing with this kind of conversation by now. I've had a few years of practice at it, so it wasn't that difficult anymore to pretend that thinking about girls with tanned skin and long, dark hair turned me on.
I nodded and smirked at Anthony. "Duh. If I didn't know I have to go sit through an hour of shitty monotone about the human anatomy, I'd be fantasizing like crazy right now."
Anthony laughed and I went along with it. "You and every other guy here." He paused. "Unless they're, like, gay or something. In which case...nah, I'm definitely sure Natasha could turn a gay guy straight. Or a straight girl into a lesbian. Damn, dude, that would be so freaking hot! Wouldn't it?"
I gave my best friend a look that perfectly captured how insane I thought he was. He was just plain rambling like a moron right now. But I caught what he was saying about lesbians and gay people. Although, that didn't make me think he was less of an idiot. Natasha had a great body and all--and even a surprisingly awesome personality--but I was still gay. I don't think I'd ever want to have sex with a girl again.
My first time, back when I was sixteen was practically scarring. First, it took ages to get it up. Then, it was simply not enjoyable at all. I didn't even orgasm because I was too freaked out by the fact that I had a girl riding my dick. Her boobs and shit were bouncing all over the place and it was awful. I hated everything about it. Thankfully she had been a little drunk so she hadn't had a care in the world about how I had acted.
I was positive that that was the exact moment I knew for sure I was gay. Before then, I'd been curious. I thought girls were pretty and everything, but nothing they did made me want to kiss them or have sex with them. While on the other hand, I started noticing guys when I was thirteen. And nearly everything they did had me wanting to touch them and kiss them all over the place. But I still pushed it--embarrassed about being different or a freak.
So I let my friends--Anthony, Nathan, and Andrew--talk me into doing stupid stuff. Like making out with random girls at senior parties even though we were only sophomores. Or getting drunk at sixteen, losing your virginity in probably the most horrific way ever, and then throwing up in your mother's daisies in the front yard. All that had gotten me was grounded for three weeks and a killer hangover the next morning.
Now, I played the card of being more mature. Which wasn't necessarily true. I just used it because I'd rather people respect me for not being a player than having them be disgusted by the fact that I was gay. Either way, it got me out of having to get with girls or pretend like I wasn't interested even though I was actually pretending to be a straight guy who wasn't interested.
It could be confusing sometimes. Now that I was older and made my own decisions--like skipping half of the parties--and was more sure of myself in a lot of ways, it got easier. I really felt like I was beginning to understand myself better. Even if there was a major part of myself that was scared and insecure beyond hell. It was better to know who I was and accept it--in private, mostly--than to try and delude myself.
"You're such a perv sometimes, man," I said, checking back into the conversation with my friend. He opened his mouth to say something, maybe protest, but I made eye contact with Dakota in that instant. He was walking around the side of the building, coming towards us. I cut Anthony off with a, "I gotta go do something, catch you later."
I sped up my pace, trying to reach Dakota. The second our eyes had met, he'd turned on his heel and practically ran off. I could hear Anthony's confused voice calling behind me as I walked along the pavement, but I was too distracted to register anything he said. I was only focused on catching up to Dakota. The spring sunshine was almost making me sweat as I nearly ran across campus.
Once I finally got close enough to Dakota--that boy had some seriously long legs--the warning bell for class was going off and we were clear from eyes and ears. Mostly all the students had slunk off into a building for their next class or lunch. But not me or Dakota. We were now just kind of standing awkwardly outside, waiting for the other to say something.
Figuring it should be me, since I literally chased him down, I took a deep breath. "Look man, about the other day...we're cool, right?"
Dakota narrowed his eyes at me and said something I hadn't been expecting. "What are you playing at, Sinclair?"
I looked at him in bemusement. "What?"
"Why are you lying to everyone?" he asked, more direct this time. I wasn't sure if I preferred that question more or not. Probably not. "Better yet, why are you doing it? With that tool of a Panther? If people find out, you're so fucking dead."
I scoffed. "Excuse you! Rude much? And that 'tool' has a name. It's Dante."
"At least you admit he's a tool," Dakota pointed out. He crossed his defined arms and fixed me with a look.
"Whatever, man. You don't know anything about us, so kindly back the fuck off."
Dakota took a step closer to me and I took half of one back. "I know that you were giving him a blowjob Friday night. I can't unsee something like that. And that's pretty much all I need to know. If the guys from the team hear about it, they'll be pissed. How the hell do we always lose to them? We've never beat them. Is it because you purposely throw the game? Just so he'll keep fucking you?"
That was enough. This kid was seriously starting to piss me off. Not to mention, he was hitting a little too close to home and jabbing at some of the buttons that made me question whether or not Dante really liked me. Of course I would never throw a game, especially not for Dante, but that didn't matter because we always lost to them anyway.
What did keep me up at night sometimes, though, was the worry that if we did ever beat his team, would he be upset with me? Would he just break everything off? I knew it was dumb to think like that, but come on. This was me we were talking about, and I had some of the most fucked up self-conscious thoughts known to man. Thinking things like that was pretty much a guarantee.
I glared daggers at Dakota and pushed him back a few steps by his shoulders. "I do not appreciate being accused of stupid shit by you. I'm your captain, here, so treat me like it. I care about this team probably way more than you ever could and I would never jeopardize a game or risk tanking the season. You wanna know the real reason we always lose to them? They're fucking better than us. That's all there is to it!"
"Whatever!" Dakota snapped.
He looked about as pissed off as I felt. But I had no idea why. In my opinion there was no reason he should be acting like this. It was ridiculous. He shoved past me and started to walk away and then the bell went off. Dakota swore under his breath and I caught his arm in my hand. He stared at it for a second before shaking it off.
"Don't touch me," he said, forcing a calm voice through clenched teeth.
I pursed my lips in irritation for a moment. "It's not like it's contagious, Jesus Christ."
"That's not even the point," he quipped, glaring at me.
"Then what is?" I asked, confused more than ever.
"Just--nothing, dude. Leave it alone."
"Why are you acting like such a little bitch about this? I just want to know that I can trust you, okay? You said it yourself. If the team finds out, they will castrate me and jump to the same conclusion you did. I can't have that. It's my last season and captainship is a big fucking deal," I said, letting my voice grow softer. "I can't lose this."
Dakota groaned and ran a hand over his face in clear frustration. His eyes were full of exasperation as they gazed at my face. "Why are you risking all this for an asshole like him, though?"
"Because," I said stubbornly with all the intelligence of rock. "And he's not an asshole."
Well he was sometimes. Actually, a lot of the time, but he had his moments. The other night at my house being one of them, and enough to keep me hanging onto him like a leech.
Dakota snorted, obviously not impressed with my answer. "I'm sure you could find someone else. Someone from our school. Or hell, just about anyone who isn't the captain of the Panthers. You're really pushing it, Harley. This could go really badly for you."
I sighed. "But it also might not."
"Might."
I rolled my eyes, not wanting to think about how true his statement probably was. "Look, can I trust you, Dakota? You don't have to do anything different. We don't have to talk more. We don't have to be best-fucking-friends. You just need to forget what you saw the other night," I said. "It's as simple as that."
"As if it were that simple," he muttered. I saw annoyance flash through his sea-green eyes and across his gorgeous face.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Leave it! Just give me some time to process this shit."
"Don't tell anyone," I said, my voice some mix of desperation and a warning.
Dakota made a face at me. "I won't. Stop freaking out."
The second he said those words, I actually felt my shoulders relax. I felt my breathing grow easier and I smiled. "Thank fuck. Thank you so much!"
Dakota pursed his lips and started to walk away once more. Before I could even stop myself, I hastily attacked him with a nanosecond-long hug. I was feeling so elated, I just needed to do that. I didn't really care if it made the other boy uncomfortable or upset. I wanted to be selfish for one moment. So I stole the hug and then I was running off, passing a hall monitor on the way and barely talking him out of referring me to detention.
None of it mattered, though, because for now I was safe. Dakota was going to keep my and Dante's secret and it would all be okay.