Valentine's Day

James unhealthily obsesses over dim-witted Ethan.

Valentine’s Day

 

     We’re the only two in the computer lab, finishing our college applications�"skipping lunch (a regular, boring day). Jane is wearing the grey sweater I bought her from Abercrombie last weekend for our anniversary (celebrating the end of our first week of being together since we were hooked up by our friends). She’s sitting right next to me, staring at her computer while I stare at mine, my eyes full of apathy. She turns and looks at me, smiling.

     “I can’t figure out what to say,” she says, rolling her eyes.

     “How many words have you written so far?” I say, looking at her screen.

     “One hundred.”

     She giggles. I shake my head and scoot closer to her. I read over what she’s written.

     Dumby!, I think.

     “It’s good so far,” I say.

     “Really?”

     “Yeah. It has everything an introduction needs. Just keep going.”

     “But I don’t know what to say, James.”

     “Start talking about your extracurricular stuff.”

     “You know I don’t have any of those.”

      No, I don’t know, I think.

     She sighs and covers her face. I don’t like seeing her sad. She’s like a big sister to me.

     “You can do it,” I say, reaching over and rubbing her back.

     “No I can’t,” she mumbles, her face still covered.

     Ethan White walks in the room. He’s wearing those nice, red shorts (even though it’s like thirty degrees outside [who cares!]). He has on a long-sleeve, red, warm up. His black hair is curly and wavy. His light, brown skin is super smooth. His slanted, brown eyes are piercing. He’s tall. I look at his nice, round, firm, strong butt when he sits down on the other side of Jane. Jane uncovers her face and waves at him.

     “Hi, Ethan,” she says.

     She rolls her eyes and covers her face. Ethan looks at me and says with a slight smirk, “What’s wrong with her?”

     My eyes pop. I can’t help but smile when I look at his face.

     “I�"I don’t know.”

     I smile at him for like three seconds. He just looks at me, smirking, his eyes bright.

     Does he like me, I think.

     Jane uncovers her face. She frowns at me and pokes my belly. She laughs and I look at Ethan. He’s logging onto his computer. He’s not staring at me anymore. Jane messed it up. She stops laughing and puts her hand on my crotch. I force a smile. She leans in and kisses me. I quickly detach, hoping Ethan didn’t notice. He’s staring at his computer screen, his chin resting on his hand.

     “What are you getting me for Valentine’s Day?” Jane says, her face blank.

     “I don’t know yet. I’m gonna buy it tomorrow, though.”

     “I want jewelry.”

     “Okay.”

     “It better be pretty, too.” She rubs my crotch. It feels good (I must admit). She rubs it harder. My eyes roll back. “What do you want? A video game?” She takes her hand off of me. “Or do you just want a lot of chocolate?”

     “I don’t play video games and I’m allergic to chocolate.”

     “You’re not allergic to chocolate, James.”

     “Yes I am.”

     I squint.

     “Since when.”

     “Since I was born, probably.”

     I look at Ethan’s computer’s screen. He’s looking at basketball stuff.

     “Well, what do you want?” says Jane, her expression emotionless.

     “I don’t know.”

     She rolls her eyes, sighs, and gets up.

     “Whatever. I’ll just pick something.” She scoots her chair in. “Turn my computer off, please.”

     “What about the application?”

     “F**k it. I’m hungry.” She leans down and kisses my cheek. “Bye.”

     She leaves. I look at Ethan. He’s still looking at basketball stuff.

     “What are you looking at?” I say, my heart beginning to race.

     He turns and looks at me.

     “The Lakers’ stats.” He smacks his hands together incredibly hard. The loud noise makes me jump. “They beat the crap outta the Celtics last night, didn’t daye?”

     I nod even though I don’t know what he’s talking about. I’ve never heard of the Celtics.

     “You like basketball?” I say, smiling.

     He smiles and nods. He gets off his chair, walks over to where Jane was sitting, and sits down next to me. He puts his hand on my shoulder. I can feel my heart thudding against my chest. I hope he doesn’t hear it. I can’t help but stare deep into his beautiful, brown eyes. I admire his clear, light, brown skin. His sexy, thin lips. His black, curly hair. His manly atmosphere is too much for me. I want to touch him. I don’t care where, but I just want to feel him. It’s almost like he’s too overpowering to be real. I can barely take it. My throat stiffens. I can’t even smile. My eyes are huge.

     He says with vehement intensity, “Br’, I made twenty dollars bettin off that s**t. Twenty dollars. The Lakers beat the f****n s**t outta them. You hear me, Br’.”

     “Yes�"yes,” I say, the words coming out like slop.

     “Did you watch it?” he says, his hand still on my shoulder.

     “No. I forgot to.”

     “WHAT!”

     He takes his hand off of me and playfully punches my chest. I want him to touch me again. He can punch me again if he wants to.

     “I had a lot of homework,” I say, looking at the floor.

     “You study all the time, don’t you?”

     I look at him. My heart is beginning to calm down. I’m getting used to his presence.

     “Yes. Do you?”

     “Hell naw!” he says, smiling. “You wanna be a CEO or somethin?”

     “I don’t know. What do you want to be?”

     “I don’t know.” He smiles at me (he has to be attracted to me). “You tryin to go to Harvard or some s**t?”

     “No,” I say, grinning (I’m lying). “I want to go to the University of Miami.”

     He playfully punches my chest again (yes) and says, “I see you, Br’! Miami. Big booty b*****s on the beach.”

     “Yep,” I say.

     His shorts are rising up towards his crotch area. I can see a good portion of his smooth thighs. They’re big and round. I can hardly take it. I start to get hard. I try to hold it down, but I can’t. I want to reach down and grab one of his thighs. I want to put my face in between them.

     “Are you going to college?” I say.

     “No. I’m goin to the Air Force.”

     “Why aren’t you going to college?”

     “F**k that s**t.”

     He scratches his neck and stares at me. I look into his gorgeous eyes. I know he wants me. I’ll do whatever he wants. All I want is for him to touch me. I want to rip his shorts off.

     “It won’t be that bad.”

     He lifts his sweatshirt up. He lifts it so far that I can see his whole chest, and he rubs his stomach. He has a full six-pack. His pecks are huge and muscular. His skin is smooth. I almost shoot my hand against his abs to feel them, but I resist the urge. I get so hard that I think I might bust out my jeans. I turn a little to hide it, but I still stare at his perfect body as he rubs himself. I want to throw myself on him.

     Oh my god.

     He puts his sweatshirt back down and sighs. He looks at the floor.

     “I’m bored. You?”

     “I have to finish my stupid applications.”

     He smiles. I smile back.

     “Do you work hard all the time?”

     “No. Why don’t you work hard?”

     “Cause I’m dumb as f**k. I don’t do none a this school s**t.”

     “You should try harder.”

     “I don’t really give a f**k. I’m goin to the Air Force.”

     There’s a long silence. He looks at the floor. I look at him.

     “I’m bout to go.”

     “Why?”

     I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

     “I gotta talk to my counselor.” He stands up and puts his hand on my head. “Bye, pretty boy.”

     He noogies me a little. We both smile and then he leaves the room. I watch him, longingly. I put my hand on my crotch and I rub myself, imagining me and Ethan alone in one of the school’s restrooms and making out. We make out and then we take each other’s shirts off. We rub on each other and we get naked. Then we make passionate love in one of the stalls.

     He has to like me. Boys don’t call each other pretty boy (even though everyone calls me that). And boys don’t stare at each other like that.

 

…

     It’s Tuesday. I’m the only one in the computer lab, finishing up my personal essay. Jane left a few minutes ago, because she got upset about not being able to write her essay as good as mine. I hope Ethan will come in again.

     If he likes me, he will.

     I thought about him all night. I can’t get him out of my head. I’m only wearing a white beater today, trying to show off my nice muscles for Ethan to see if we happen to pass each other in the hall.

     I hear laughing. I turn my head, and in he comes, the God of Perfection. He’s wearing white shorts and a short-sleeved, white, T-shirt. He points at me, laughing, and sits next to me. He looks at my beater (I knew he’d think it was sexy). I can take his godliness now. I’ve prepared for it. Still, I get horny because my attraction has doubled. I don’t care. I want him to see my bulge. I want him to know that our feelings are mutual.

     “What up, Br’.” We smack hands, and then he looks and smiles at my chest. He grabs and squeezes one of my pecks. “Nice, boy. You sexy as f**k.” He squeezes it harder. I giggle and gently remove his hand (I can’t be too easy). “Why don’t you play basketball or nothin?”

     “I love sports,” I say, turning in my chair so my legs are directed towards him.

     He pushes his shorts back. They’re so far that I can almost see the hair in his crotch area. He’s doing it on purpose. He wants me to look, and I do. The beauty of his strong thighs is overwhelming. He must be from Heaven. Only angels are this perfect.

     “You hate dem Celtics?”

     “They’re stupid,” I say, smiling.

     “Good.”

     “What sports do you play?”

     “Football.”

     “Oh yeah, you were one of the linebackers.”

     He smiles at me.

     “I didn’t like it dat much, doe.”

     “Why?”

     “Cause I wasn’t gettin recruited by nobody. Couch Harris wasn’t puttin my name out there.”

     “He’s stupid.”

     “He can suck my f****n dick.”

     We both laugh. I let my hand touch his thigh for a second and then I remove it. He doesn’t mind. He just keep laughing, looking in my eyes. I love him. We can have a full relationship if he wants to. I wouldn’t care if everybody found out. We could kiss in the hallways and everything. I wouldn’t be ashamed as long as he wasn’t. I’d even go to the Air Force with him.

     “What you gettin Jane tomorrow for Valentine’s Day?”

     Why is he bringing her up?

     “I’m going to buy her a necklace today.”

     “F**k that s**t. You better buy her a f****n piece of chocolate.”

     “I know.”

     “Yaw getting married or somethin.”

     “No.”

     “You be gettin in that p***y?”

     Why is he talking about her? He should hate her, but maybe he’s just testing me to see if I really like her. That’s it!

     “No. Well, I do, but it’s not that good.”

     He smiles.

     “What? It’s dry or somethin.”

     I nod, and he busts out laughing and touches my thigh. I laugh with him. When we stop, he sighs, and smiles at me. I smile back. I want to grab his crotch, but I think that’ll be too fast.

     “You a funny motherfucka.”

     “Are you doing anything for Valentine’s Day?”

     “F**k no!”

     “Why?”

     “I ain’t got no f****n girlfriend. I hit it and keep movin.”

     “Who are you hookin up with now?”

     “I’m supposed to be f****n this freshman girl. She easy. I should get in by like�"by like next week or somethin.”

      I know he’s only joking, but why?

     “Oh.”

     He gets up and gives me a noogie. I poke his stomach.

     “I gotta go see my counselor again. Bye, pretty boy.”

     “Are you coming in here tomorrow?”

     “Yeah. That b***h be talkin to me every day.”

     He starts walking away.

     “Bye, Ethan.”

 

    

 

…

     It’s Wednesday, Valentine’s Day. Last night, Jane tells me that she’s going to eat lunch in the cafeteria for like ten minutes and then she’ll meet me in the computer lab so we can exchange gifts. I tell her okay, hoping she’ll be gone long enough for Ethan and I to spend time together and have our first kiss.

     I’m in the computer lab, by myself. I’m wearing a plain, white shirt under a bright, white blazer I spent two-hundred dollars on. I have on white, khaki pants and I’m wearing white, leather, dress shoes. My nails are neatly clipped. My skin is extremely smooth (thanks to some of my mom’s product). I have D&G cologne on.

     I blindly search the web, awaiting Ethan’s arrival. There’s a white, paper bag next to my chair. In it is a heart-shaped, red box of chocolates, a red rose, Valentine’s Day card, and a T-shirt signed by Kobe Bryant (a Lakers player) I convinced my dad to scavenge for me (he bought it off somebody for four-hundred dollars). And Jane’s necklace is inside, too.

     Ethan walks in, smiling, looking at me. He’s wearing a tight, black, short-sleeved thermal shirt and black shorts. He sits down next to me. His eyes pop as he looks over my outfit. I want him to rub my chest like he did yesterday.

     “Damn, Boy! You look sexy as f**k! Jane gonna let you tap dat a*s tonight!”

     We both smile at each other.

     “Have you talked to your counselor yet?” I say.

     “No. I’m bout to.”

     I planned on giving him his presents first, but he looks too good. I can see the outline of his sexy pecks and abs through his tight thermal. His thighs are poking out of his shorts.

     “Did you�"did you get me anything?” I say.

     He squints and then smiles.

     He says, softly, “What are you talkin about?”

     “Never mind,” I say, smiling.

     I reach and kiss him. We’re locked together for about three seconds. I’m about to stick my tongue in, but he punches me in the stomach and knocks me off my chair. He gets up and kicks me in the chest seven times. He spits on me and then squats down to give me a hard punch in the stomach again.

     “F****N F*G!”

     He walks away. I get on my knees. He stops at the door and turns his head slightly, looking at me over his shoulder. His eyes are squinted. His face is twisted and full of malice. He continues on through the doorway and goes down the hall. I get back in my chair. I clutch my aching stomach and hold in my tears. A couple minutes pass, and Jane skips in the room humming the Beetles’ song, “Yesterday,” holding a plastic bag and wearing a grey blazer with a plain, black shirt underneath . She sits down where Ethan was, right next to me. She’s really jittery and she’s smiling extremely hard. I don’t want to look at her. She reaches out the bag to me and I take it. I look inside. It’s the video game, Assassin’s Creed III.

     “You like it?!” she says, her eyes bright.

     I nod, void of any emotion except for dread.

     “Come on. Come on! Where’s my diamond necklace!”

     She moves up and down.

     I turn and reach in the bag next to my chair. I pull out the case that has her necklace inside, moving past the Kobe Bryant-signed T-shirt, heart-shaped box of chocolates, Valentine’s Day card, and red rose. Before I fully reach the case out to her, she snatches it, opens it, and screams.

     “I love you!”

     She takes the shiny, diamond necklace out and puts it around her neck.

     “I have to use the restroom,” I say.

     “This is so cute! I love you! We’re gonna be together forever!” she says, not paying me any attention.

     I stand up, scoot my chair in, leave the room, and go down the hall. I go into the boy’s restroom. I go into a stall, shut the door, sit on the toilet, and start crying.