Yesterday morning started out kind of strange.
It was Sunday; both of us slept late. I was up before you, of course; that's how it was always was. I woke up with my head feeling somewhat congested and my mind a jumble of thoughts. You were on my mind, like always; it seems like you're all I think about these days. I looked over at you as I stretched, making sure you were comfortable and warm. You were clutching one of your pillows, face pressed up against it, and I smiled. Same way you always slept.
Since my mind was working overtime, I decided I would go for a run to try and clear my head. Anytime I got angry or worked up or I was lost deep in thought, I liked to go running. It gave me plenty of time to think. And I had a lot of thinking to do.
I pulled on a pair of sweat pants and a hoodie, then began stuffing my feet into my sneakers. You mumbled something and I paused, unsure if you were awake or merely dreaming. When you didn't say anything else, I knew you were still asleep. Giving you one last glance, I disappeared from the room.
Campus is always dead on Sunday mornings. It's kind of eerie, being out and not seeing another living being. My feet slapped on the wet pavement, the sound echoing through the deserted campus, and my long braid bounced against my back as I jogged. My head was still stuffed up -more so than I had thought it was- and I had to spit every couple of minutes to keep from swallowing the crap running down my throat. It was raining and chilly, but I didn't really care. I could see my breath before me in little puffs and I hoped that when I spit, it wasn't going in my hair.
This was a route I knew all too well. Up the path, past the alumni building, down by the field house and the practice areas for the sports teams, up the hill, by the student union, the pond, through the courtyard and past the dinning hall, then back to our dorm. The main roads of the campus went in one continuous loop and I had run it many times. It took only about half an hour to run it once, which is what I usually did.
After setting a good pace for myself, I allowed my thoughts to wander to -what else?- you. An image of you snuggled up in bed kept filling my mind, causing me to smile. You looked so incredibly peaceful as you slept, not at all like the teasing, suggestive, occasionally vicious person I knew you to be. Why, I wondered, did I feel so calm when I was with you? I was so at ease; as if we belonged in one another's presence. I felt safe with you; as if no matter what happened, everything would be okay.
When I failed that midterm, you reminded me how well I had done on all my papers and quizzes in that class. When my parents gave me shit about my life, you'd listen while I vented about it. When I had a bad day, you'd put your arm around me and suggest all the things you could do to "cheer me up" until I was blushing so badly my face must have resembled a tomato. I would always manage to stammer out that the things you suggested would be more likely to make you happy and you would laugh, telling me "you never know until you try, eh?"
I tried to be there for you the same way. When people were unnecessarily cruel, I'd try to beat them up (although you never let me). When you needed to cry, I'd hold you in my arms and let you cry on my shoulder. When you're happy, I always wind up happy as well because no one can stay upset when you're in a good mood.
But what about you made all these little things matter? I had never put much stock in love before, or even friendship, for that matter. But lately, I've been finding myself asking your opinions on things, trusting you with my secrets and generally just wanting to be in your presence. Why was there a longing in your eyes, even when I saw no shadow of the demon? When had you stopped bringing your little bitches around? I hadn't seen you with another man in over a month. Had you begun to realize it made me jealous? Why did it make me jealous anyway? Did I only want you to pay attention to me? Did I crave your love? Did I love you?
Was it possible that I…loved another man?
I had to stop running at that point, as this realization dawned on me, so I could cough up another wad of phlegm. Damn this sinus headache! There was so much stuff running down the back of my throat I thought I would either throw up or choke. Maybe jogging in the rain while I was stuffed up wasn't such a good idea.
I sank down on one of the stone benches near the pond. The stone was cold and wet, but hey, so was I. I spat again, then flopped down on my back, wishing I had a bottle of water, that I had stayed in bed, that my head wasn't pounding and that you were there with me.
I lay there for a while, eyes closed, rain pelting my face and plastering my bangs to my forehead. It felt kind of nice and I wondered what would happen if I just stayed there. Would you wonder where I was? Would you come looking for me? Would you worry about me the way I would worry about you?
I rolled over on my side, staring into the pond as rain caused its surface to ripple. How like that pond I was, and you the rain, causing my very soul to flow and contort every time you so much as touched me. You had somehow broke beneath my surface, diving deeper within me, then surfacing again, leaving me all on my own to drown as I tried to test your depths.
I sat up. There was no point in staying there any longer. I was cold, but had caught my breath. I could run some more now; I had only covered half the distance. But I really didn't feel like it. I just wanted to stay there by the pond and I wanted you to be there with me to put an arm around my shoulders and kiss me, so I could blush and pretend I didn't like it.
But I knew you wouldn't come.
I hoisted myself off the bench and began running again, suddenly in a hurry to get back to the room and back to you. I wanted to see you, to touch you, to know this wasn't some sort of dream and you really were my best friend. I need you in my life for reasons I cannot even begin to explain.
Looking up through the pelting rain, I could see a blurry figure moving towards me. You…What were you…? Had I imagined…? No, you were there, calling my name. I stopped, hunched over, hands splayed on my legs as I paused to catch my breath. You stopped before me, looking at me concernedly from under your floral print umbrella. "You okay?"
I looked up at you, our eyes meeting as I pushed my bangs back from my forehead. "Yeah." I muttered, pausing to spit again. Fuck this weather. I always get congested in the morning in rainy weather. And then I spit a lot, as I had been all morning. "What are you doing here?"
"You were gone longer than usual." You shivered slightly against the cold, tossing your scarf over your shoulder, "I know when you go out for a run, it never takes you more than forty-five minutes to get back. I was worried." Your dark eyes fell shut and a pensive expression crossed your face, "I didn't think you'd go out in weather like this. When I woke up and you were gone…"
"Ah, sorry. Didn't mean to worry you. I needed to think."
"Don't worry about it. I just thought I'd come looking." A grin crossed your face. We had begun walking, heading in the direction of the dorm. "You're soaking wet. Are you cold? I could warm you up…" Your tone was teasing as you suggested what you would like to do, "We could go back to the room and crawl into my bed together. Of course, it works better if neither of us have any clothes on…" You laughed seductively, licking your lips as your eyebrows rose.
"Pervert." I accused. But I was cold and I huddled under the umbrella with you, allowing you to put an arm around me.
"You know you like it." You intoned, giving my sopping wet braid a tug, causing me to blush because, well, it wasn't too far from the truth. Noticing the expression on my face, you smirked. "Just admit it already. You find me attractive."
"I do not!" I snapped, trying to suppress the blush threatening to consume my face.
"You think I'm ugly?" You pouted, eyes filling with tears, fingers teasing a loose strand of hair off my face.
"I never said that…" I stammered. There was going to be no easy way out of this…
"What then?" You demanded, stopping and taking my face in your hands, forcing me to look you in the eyes. I could see myself reflected in the inky pools that were your eyes and I looked scared. Did you enjoy seeing me frightened? Was it a turn on for you?
"You're my friend." I sounded out slowly, "Looks don't matter. I'd still be your friend, no matter how you looked." Yes, that sounded okay. Not at all incriminating or anything. You wouldn't suspect…I do find myself attracted to you. Very much so. And that unnerves me.
"Well," You let go of me, smiling deviously, "I think you're pretty damn fine. Now come on. You don't need to be getting sick because you're all wet."
After I was warm and dry again, I began yanking a comb through my hair. It was dripping and I had to towel it off before I re-braided it. You were at your desk, working on a paper due later in the week, King Hippo spilling out of your speakers. You have such an odd taste in music; you like bands no one has ever heard of. I got used to your off-beat musical tastes. Some of it actually wasn't so bad. Random was pretty good, King Hippo could be better, Ophidia was bizarre. Half their songs aren't in English, they're mixes of other languages, but they have a good beat.
I could hear you humming along to the upbeat tune blasting out from your laptop and it made me smile. Only a week or so before, the dinning hall had hosted a karaoke night and you had sung that very song. It would have been a riot to watch if I weren't, for whatever reason, suspicious that you were singing it to me. You were grinning as you sang, dark eyes glittering dangerously, moving to the beat, gaze never leaving my face. I could feel myself blushing and I wanted the floor to open and swallow me up. I was mortified.
But you had gained yourself an audience as you purred out the lyrics seductively, raising your eyebrows at me, making me blush more. I don't think any one actually noticed me sitting there atop that table in the back of the room; they were too busy watching your escapades.
Ooo…I wantcha
Ooo…I need ya
You don't have to be so shy
C'mon and give me a try
Lemme hold you tightly in my arms
Lemme kiss you, I'm sure you taste divine
Don't be so afraid; I mean you no harm
Lemme have you, you're lookin' so fine
Everybody needs somebody; I can keep ya warm
all those cold lonely nights, if ya'd be mine
'Cause Ooo…I wantcha
And Ooo…I need ya…
You were hoping around, gleefully belting out the song, and I began to think "gee, maybe this isn't so bad" when suddenly all eyes were on me as your finger pointed in my general direction. For a moment, it seemed like everything ceased to function as numerous pairs of eyes focused on me and you warbled out the last line: "Won't you be mine?" I froze. I must have had a deer-in-the-headlights look; my face must have been flaming as I locked eyes with you, wondering what I had done to deserve this.
And, as I re-braided my damp hair, you were singing it again. Looking back, it was kind of funny, I suppose. You like to ham it up, don't you? You're so strange, but I guess that's part of why I like you. If you were any other way, you wouldn't be, well, you. And I like you just fine the way you are. At least you hadn't sung that song from the Panteen commercial. You know, the one that goes "More, more, more…How do ya like it? How do ya like it?" I think that would have been much worse.
"You better now?" You swung around in your chair when you realized I was humming. "You've been really…uptight lately." You were leaned back against your desk, legs over the back of your chair, fingers running through your hair, a secretive smile on your face. "You've really got me worried, Kiddo."
"I'm fine." I looked at you, tossing my braid over my shoulder. I didn't like the look you were giving me, suggestive, yet laced with concern. It was a strange combination of emotions; your dark eyes were glazed over with desire as you peered at me from under your bangs.
I studied you for a moment, taking in your expression, your relaxed posture, that knowing smile which graced your lips. You were eating strawberry pocky, licking the frosting off it suggestively, taking your good old time on the cracker. Just the way you ate it made me want to blush up a storm. Did everything you do have to be so provocative?
"You're not fine. Something is bothering you. Just tell me already. I thought we trusted one another?" Your tongue snaked around the snack again and you offered me the package. "You want one?"
"No." I said shortly, "And there's nothing to tell." Right; nothing to tell. You turn me on and I'm confused about my sexuality, my parents would kill me and I have no clue how you would react if I told you that I think I love you. Nope, nothing at all.
"Look, who are you trying to kid? Me? Or yourself? 'Cause you sure aren't fooling me. Something is on your mind. I can see it in your eyes. So whatever lies you're trying to tell yourself, give it up. It's obviously not working. Just tell me what's wrong. You'll feel better." You shifted positions, straddling the chair, arms folded across the back, chin resting on your arms as you leaned forward attentively.
I needed a lie. I needed anything that came to mind. I needed…"I'm worried about my test this week. I did so bad on the other one…" That was a good excuse, right? I had failed the other test horribly, bombing with a sixty-two percent. You knew I had been terribly upset by this, so maybe you would stop asking questions…
You looked at me curiously for a moment, a hint of uncertainty still in your eyes. Then you smiled softly, fingers once again running through your bangs. "I can help you with that, you know. I took that class a couple semesters ago and still have my notes somewhere. I'll help you study if you want."
"Okay." I nodded, bangs bouncing on my forehead. You usually knew what you were talking about when it came to dates, definitions and that kind of crap. And you were good at making me think, always telling me I was smarter than I thought I was and I could pass any test if I put enough effort into it. When I was discouraged, you would always build up my confidence. "Thanks. You're such a good friend."
"I try my best. Let me work on my paper some more, then I'll give you a hand."
" 'Kay." A real smile crossed my face. I was glad you weren't pestering me any more about what was bothering me; glad you had let up, even if it was only for a little while.
We went for an early dinner that night, heading out around four. It had stopped raining but was still gray and dreary, the kind of weather no one ever wanted to go out in. We ate together, laughing and joking like always, some of your casual acquaintances joining us. Dinners like that were fun, when no one was ever intentionally cruel to any one else and we all got along. Some of your friends were a little strange, but then, so were you and they had welcomed me in. Of course, they had assumed I was gay and that we were a couple, which caused much blushing on my part and laughter from you as you set them straight --we weren't a couple; you hadn't even been down my pants yet.
As we walked back to our dorm, you decided to make a game out of jumping in every single puddle we came across, purposely trying to get me wet and to get me to smile. I was still brooding over my tumultuous emotions and smiles had been rare. The final straw came when you caught me off guard with one of those puddles that looks like nothing and is insanely deep. You were giggling like mad as I stood there gaping at you, then you tore off down the road, me in hot pursuit, calling after you "I'm going to kill you!!" and you yelling back "Good! I like it rough!" while sticking your tongue out at me. I caught you, finally, grabbing hold of your arm, and you looked at me, laughing, eyes sparkling and I grinned back up at you, pulling you down into a headlock, messing up your hair.
Both of us were laughing, joking around, when I suddenly felt shy and pulled away, my face heating up. You looked at me curiously, but said nothing for a while, just continued walking, leaving me standing there on the sidewalk, wondering what the hell I was supposed to do now. I wanted to run after you, grab you by the hand and tell you…
I found my notes and text book once we got back to the room and we climbed up on your bed together. Your bed, for whatever reason, is more comfortable than mine and we always sit on it when studying together. You leaned back lazily, firing away with questions and waiting for me to give answers. I was trying my best to remember, but I hated the course and it was hard for me. I spent more time whining and complaining than actually giving answers.
Finally, you seemed to realize we were getting nowhere. "I thought you wanted to do well on this test?" Sighing, you pushed my notebook out of the way. "You're not concentrating."
"Sorry." I mumbled. You were looking at me evenly, a thoughtful expression on your face. I was suddenly aware of your nearness and could feel a blush working its way across my cheeks. But how am I supposed to concentrate when you're right there next to me, only inches away, and I'm starting to feel something for you beyond just normal friendship?
"What's bothering you? Really; you can tell me." Your hand rested gently on my shoulder, "Is it me? Have I done something?" You bit your lip, eyes burning into mine. You looked hurt and I felt bad.
"It's not you…" How badly I wanted to tell you everything. I wanted to fall into your arms, lay my head on my shoulder and tell you just how much you mean to me. "It's a lot of things about me…" I was so tired of everything. You put an arm around me and I rested my head on your shoulder. "Is it wrong…?"
"Is what wrong?" You were looking at me curiously as you drew me closer into your arms. You were so warm…
"Can…Can you…K-kiss me…?" I looked up at you, my face heating up as that ever-present blush made itself apparent again.
"What?" Your dark eyes widened slightly and you looked startled, as if you would have never in your life expected me to ask something like that. "You want me to kiss you?"
"Please? Just once…"
That's where things went bad.
The blind falls back in place as I release it. It makes a clattering noise which sounds deafening in the solitude of our room. I cringe slightly, hoping it didn't wake you. Nope; you're still sleeping just as soundly as ever. Then I look over at my clock. It's already two-thirty and I haven't gotten any sleep.
Ugh.
I flop back on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. Why does it have to be like this? I love you and I'm too much of a coward to tell you. But then, I don't know what you'll do if I tell you. Maybe that's why I'm afraid. You'd be proud; I finally admitted the truth. I want to be with you, I never want you to have another man over and I don't care any more what my parents will think.
But how the hell do I tell you this?
