Chapter 1: The Dream
As I walk through the hall I run into Chris Robertson. Just looking at him makes my stomach feel uneasy. I’ve thought about talking to him, telling him how I feel; never being able to get my head around it I would back down and forget about it and kick myself in the head later for it. I think about his masculine figure as I near him, I get lost in my head and accidentally bump into him and knock over his books. As I bent down to pick them up, clearing the hair out of my face I apologize and give him a smile. He smiles back and I am filled with radiating heat. Awkward silence surrounds the moment. Suddenly I blurt out that I love him and always have. I embrace his perfect frame in my arms and squeeze him tightly, burrowing my head into his shoulder and taking a whiff of his orgasmic combination of sweat and body spray. I push him away slightly to look into his eyes. He then embraces me into his big, strong arms and we caress each other ravishingly, exploring everything about each other.
The bell rings and we stand there holding each other. We lean in for the kiss that I have been waiting for ages to receive ever since I first laid eyes on him in Science class. I close my eyes and open up my mouth to meet his tongue when - 7:30, time to wake up.
My name is Matt Davidson, I’m 16, and a Junior in High School. I’m running back for my High Schools football team. However I’m not your typical jock. I’m rather book-smart but when it comes to tests and quizzes, I fail. So academically I’m your basic jock, but intellectually, I’m smarter than your average potato.
Turns out the bell was my alarm going off. Damn. Another dream cut short of what I have been waiting to experience for ages.
“Matt! Get your lazy butt up and get ready for school!” Great, my sister Rebecca nagging me again.
Another fantastic wake-up call in the Davidson household; I live with my mom and sister. My dad died when I was five in a car accident due to drunk driving. It’s been pretty rough ever since then. My mom was in and out of depression a couple times. She tried to kill herself but thankfully, my next door neighbor Linda Kelsall talked her out of it.
Realizing I had to take a huge leak, I drudged out of my safe haven and crawled over to the bathroom and took off my clothes, and stepped in the shower. Cold as usual, my sister took up all the hot water again. Oh well, I’m already wet I might as well finish the shower. Besides, It will help me forget about the dream and get on with my day.
“Hey Matt, how was your dream last night?” That’s Mark Kelsall, he’s been my best friend and neighbor since kindergarten. He’s the only one who knows I’m Gay. I tell him everything. That includes Chris.
“Nothing new, I bump into him, I confess, we hug, and then I wake up right as we kiss.”
“Bummer man. You’ll finish that dream one of these days. Did you finish the report on Moby Dick that’s due today?”
Ugh, the dreaded Moby Dick report. Every kid despises this book report. Most of the kids find this book very boring and repetitive. Not Mark, he loves enthralling, high-detailed books. Mark is a nerd, but I like him anyway. People make fun of me for hanging out with him but I don’t care. I know the real Mark. He’s just like any other kid except he can be a bookworm and teachers pet. He also gets picked on for his last name. The kids call him Markie Coleslaw and bully him.
“No, I never payed attention.” I replied, opening up my locker to get my History book for 1st period.
“That counts as one-third of your grade! Your mom is going to be mad if you fail this year dude.” Ouch, Mark’s right. I had promised my mom this year things would be different. Last year I was so focused on making quarterback on the football team that I slacked off in my classes and just barely passed.
“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’ll just make it up somehow by talking to Mr. Sinclair” I said, slamming my locker knowing Mr. Sinclair would never let me make it up. He’s not the best teacher. He has a very different way of teaching and about three-fourths of the students don’t get him. I do, but that won’t help in my situation.
“Well, I got to get to class, see you third for math right?”
“Yup!” Mark said while running to catch his class before the bell rang.
As I walked to Mr. Mikes History class, I ran into Michelle Angels, I met her last year in my English class but we have become good friends.
“Hey Matt, did you ever get that CD I asked for last night?”
“No, I had gotten back from football practice and just passed out, I’ll get it tonight I promise. You wanted ‘Three Days Grace’ right?” I said while doing a spin to avoid the kid who almost ran into me.
“Yeah. You better remember. If you don’t I’ll put you into a headlock again like last week!”
I chuckled. Michelle is on the boys wrestling team. All the guys are scared to go up against her. She’s even beaten Chris when the girls and boys P.E groups were combined for wrestling. I took Gymnastics to improve my dexterity so I could run around the field better but I sure wish I had taken Wrestling so I could have seen Chris in his shorts twisting and turning all over the mat.
As I walked into class, I caught a glimpse of Chris in the hallway talking with his friend Mandy Drumm. People say that’s his girlfriend, but I beg to differ. Word is that Chris is Straight, but I think he’s experimented with some guys before or at least has wanted to for a while now. He always gets a little flustered around me and stammers a little when we talk. He looked both ways as if surveying the hall and kissed Mandy on the cheek and walked into class.
As I sat down I saw that we were taking notes again for the fourth day in a row and everybody including me groaned aloud. I grudgingly took out my notebook and a pen and started to write down the full board of notes. Today’s topic: The Cold War. I got as far as the third sentence and gave up. I leaned down to get my water bottle out of my backpack when I saw that my outside pocket was open and a small piece of paper was sticking out. I took the paper out and unfolded it to see what it said.
“Matt, I have been wanting to tell you how I feel for so long ever since I first saw you. I think I am finally ready. However, I am not female. If you are interested drop this note into locker number 302. Don’t worry, this is not a trick. Signed, Anonymous.”
Woah, a secret admirer? I looked around the classroom to see if anybody was looking at me and I didn’t notice anybody. Hmm, could this be real? What if it is a trap and it’s to see if I’m Gay? I can only imagine what would happen if people found out I was Gay. They would make fun of me, and my teammates would treat me like an outcast and avoid all contact with me thinking that all the stuff we did in the showers was just for my pleasure. But, what if the note was from Chris? It’s a small chance but, you never know. What a tough decision. Well I think I should wait till next passing period and ask Mark what he thinks.
As the clock neared that lucky number five, I sat eagerly at the edge of my seat waiting for the bell to ring so I could tell Mark about the note. I never averted my gaze from the clock, thinking that the harder I stared at the clock, the faster it would tick.
“Mr. Davidson, are you expecting somebody?” “MATTHEW DAVIDSON!”
“Huh, what?” I replied. The class laughed a little.
“Are you awaiting something?” Mr. Mike asked with a somewhat arrogant smugness.
“Me? No Mr. Mike, sorry. I was just checking to see what the time was. I was paying attention the whole time.” I replied, feeling nervous, hoping he wouldn’t ask me what he was just talking about.
“ Really? What was I just talking about?” Oh crap, I thought.
“Well sir, you were talking about the Cold War and about how -” RIIIIING. Yes! Saved by the bell.
“Well, that’s all for today class, don’t forget to read chapter 21 tonight and study for the test this Wednesday” Shouted Mr. Mike.
As first period ended I went back to my locker and put away my history book. I reached in to grab my science book when Mark walked up and started opening his locker. As I pulled out my book I remembered the note and showed it to Mark.
“So what do you think? Should I put it in the locker?” I asked, feeling a little nervous about what his answer would be.
“Wow, do you know whose locker 302 belongs to?” He asked. Starring at me quizzically.
“Nope, you think it could be Chris’s?”
“Well, you should check when you come to put your science book away. You pass the 300's on your way. Oh, and don’t forget to look at Chris next period to see if he looks at you, he may have written it.” replied Mark, taking out his English book and report.
“I’m so excited that I get to turn this in. I worked really hard on it.”
“Haha, Mark, you are such a nerd. But I love you for it” I replied, chuckling aloud to myself. “Well, I got to go to my Science class and stare at Chris instead of the teacher. Lets find out what I think about this time while looking at him”
Chapter 2: The Note
As I walked into class I took my seat at the grouped tables, conveniently placed across from Chris Robertson, my dream hunk; 5'6", sandy short spiked blonde hair, slightly chubby, perfect frame. Blue-greenish eyes, a smile that could light up a room, and a beautiful face to go along with it.
As always, He walks in, sets down his things, and walks out the hallway opposite of where he entered to talk to his friends. And I of course follow him and go to the bathroom, walking a little slower than I normally do as to not attract attention and also catch a longer glimpse at him. As I enter the hallway I get a sexy wave from Christina Powetzer. I jokingly wave back, trying to make it seem flirty and mess with her while laughing to myself that she, as well as every other girl who flirts with me, will never get anywhere with me. They are so naïve. They never see the signs. They will laugh though when they realize and think back on the things I’ve done.
As I walk back from the bathroom, feeling pretty relieved, I catch Chris with his shirt off, wearing nothing but his black tank top. I catch the part of him taking off his first shirt, showing me his stomach with the thick happy trail that every girl loves, and his arms including the peach fuzz he calls armpit hair. I don’t feel bad for him, he’s only a Sophomore and he has a pretty thick happy trail and some noticeable ‘pit hair. Me being nonchalant, I continue to walk throughout the whole ordeal but keep my gaze on the manly hunk. As I reach for the door handle, missing it the first time, I noticed he has stretch marks on his arms. I think to myself that nobody is perfect and think nothing of it. To be honest I found it kinda cute.
I take a seat just as the bell starts to ring and take out my book and various items I decided to use to chronograph my thoughts. The bell finishes ringing and Chris as usual, walks in tardy. The teacher puts up the notes for us to copy and tells us there will be a quiz on them after we are done copying them, giving us only 15 minutes to write them down. Groaning to myself, I forcibly sacrifice staring at Chris and turn my wary gaze to the overhead and start to write down the notes. Halfway through the notes I turn to check and see if Chris is looking at me. To my surprise he is. I started to ponder if he was really the one to write me the note. I get lost in my thoughts and start picturing what it would be like if it really was him and the kind of stuff we do together after I confess to him. Suddenly the teacher turns off the overhead and tells us to take out a piece of paper. I look down to grab a new sheet and realize I only copied one-fifth of the notes!
Scurrying to get the rest of the notes from the people siting at my table, I manage to copy some more. As the teacher passes out the test, I look up at Chris and notice him looking at me again. I smile at him and under my breath I say “Good luck handsome.”
82%. Not bad I thought. I owe the people at my table a lot for helping me get that grade. As I sit there staring at my test score, I crumple it up to throw it away. As I get up to toss it in the garbage I walk past Chris and notice he got a 17%. Ouch.
But as I thought about it, he looked like he was writing down the notes. At least, I think he was; could he have been looking at me the whole time? As I toss my paper in the trash the bell for the end of class rings. Time for third period. Now I can talk to Mark about what’s happened today and hopefully get him to spill what he wrote his paper on so I don’t fail again.
As I’m walking back to my locker to get out my math book I see a girl opening up locker 302. That’s odd. The note said the anonymous writer wasn’t female. Maybe it’s the messenger. But, what it really is a trap? I should ask what Mark thinks of it.
“So how was Science? Did Chris look at you that much?” asked Mark as I fumbled with my locker combination. What if it is a trap? What if-
“Hey Matt. Earth to Matt. You there man?” Said Mark, waving his hand in front of my face.
“Oh, sorry man. I was thinking about the chick in front of locker 302.”
“Woah, chick? I thought the note said it wasn’t a female.” replied Mark as he unfolded the piece of paper to reread it.
“Yeah I know. You think it could be a trick or is it just a messenger?” I asked as I too, reread the note.
“I have no idea. My gut says it’s just a messenger. Do you know who the girl is?”
“It was Mandy Drumm. Do you think Chris had her do it because he’s afraid to do it himself and be ridiculed as well?” I asked as I folded up the note again and placed it in my locker, trading it for the math book.
“It’s possible dude. It’s also possible Chris had her do it to just see if you were Gay. I don’t think I can help you out here. You’re on your own, but I’ll support you on whatever you decide on.”
“Well I expected that from you geek boy. What else would you do? Beat them up if they had spread a rumor?” I said jokingly pushing Mark to the side.
“Don’t call me that!” He retorted back shoving me in the same manner, laughing aloud.
As we walked to our math class I asked Mark if he could let me copy what he wrote for his English report.
“Dude, it took me four thousand three hundred and twenty minutes to write that report!”
“Dumb it down for me brainiac. I’m not as big a nerd as you.”
“Three days. You jocks are all alike.” He laughed while pushing his glasses back up to his eyes.
“Hey, I’m the only jock who understands three-fourths of what you say. As well as your best friend and connection to the popular world. I’d watch it if I were you.” I said with a certain smugness.
“Yeah I guess you’re right. Here, just don’t copy it word for word. Oh, and that first word, is the.”
“What do I look like, an idiot? And I know what that word says you idiot. Here, you see this mark on my neck? That’s called a hickey, you get them from going to parties.”
“Oh, I get it, make fun of the social outcast. How very jock-like.” Replied Mark, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, you make fun of my stereotype, I make fun of yours.” I said laughing and giving him a shoulder hug to assure him I was just messing around. “Come on, lets get to class.”
Chapter 3: Unnamed Chapter.
As we sat down, taking out our notebooks and calculators the bell rang. Perfect timing I thought.
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