Hi! First published story in a long time. Currently un-betaed, sorry! Tell me what you think. There will be updates, but I'm not entirely sure how often they will be.
May 12, 1992
Dear friend,
I went out with Patrick again tonight. We went to the golf course and traded more stories, and neither of us mentioned the kiss from last night. I'm not sure if I was waiting for him to bring it up, but I know that I didn't want to and risk ruining the good mood he seemed to have going. He didn't talk about Brad either, which I was grateful for. I'm not sure if I could handle hearing about him again.
Patrick brought another bottle of red wine and we passed it back and forth, trading gulps and sharing high school legend stories.
He told me about a guy in his sophomore history class who farted so loud during a lesson that the teacher thought there was a fire drill. "It took us 15 minutes to explain to the teacher that the noise was actually the product of chilli day in the cafeteria, and not a fire. Poor kid was so mortified he ended up switching schools." I spat out my wine from laughing so hard.
We soon fell into a silence. Not an awkward one, but a comfortable, companionable one. I was watching the sun rise, not realising that we had been here so long, when I felt his hand on my arm. I looked at him and he looked back at me, his eyes unreadable.
And then he was kissing me.
It was over as soon as it began, and we stared at each other not knowing what to say. His face collapsed, all traces of the laughter I saw earlier gone. Patrick fell forward and hid his face in my chest, his arms gripping around me.
"I'm sorry," He sobbed, "I'm so sorry."
"Patrick, it's okay," I coaxed, not wanting him to be upset. "I don't mind, its okay."
He looked up slowly. "Really?" Tears were flooding his eyes, but the tone of his voice was more surprised than anything.
Now, you need to know this about me, friend. I'm not gay. Not even close. But there was something about the way Patrick looked at me, the way I felt with his arms wrapped around me. I don't know how to describe it to you. I found myself nodding at him and leaning closer ever so slightly. He leaned up towards me too, and it seemed to take forever but eventually our lips met in a kiss that was far more tentative than the first.
I can't explain to you what happened next because I'm not entirely sure of that myself. I know how it felt, though. The way it felt when his lips were pressed against mine is something so warm and comfortable that I don't think I can adequately put it into words.
He drove me home after we kissed for a bit longer and kissed me again before I got out of his truck. No words were spoken by either of us the entire time but I think that's okay. The taste of red wine and cigarette smoke lingered on my tongue for hours afterwards as I lay in bed unable to sleep, and even now as I'm writing to you.
Something changed between Patrick and I tonight. I'm not entirely sure what it is or if I like it or not, but I promise that as soon as I figure it out, you'll be the first to know.
I'm not gay. Not even close. But I remember my dad once saying that there's an exception to every rule.
I think Patrick might be mine.
Love always,
Charlie