Chapter 10
I walk quickly out of the locker room, trying to look normal but probably looking more like my ass is on fire.
This is weird. Or maybe it’s not. I don’t know how to feel.
I always make sure to keep my eyes down in the locker room. It’s just what you do.
But recently, I catch my eyes kind of… wandering? Just a quick glance that I don’t even mean to do.
I thought it was normal. Just curious. Comparing bodies. Nothing that would mean anything.
Today, though… Today was a different caliber altogether.
Coach Davis had made me stay later than everyone else to run some extra drills. So when I walked into the locker room after I had finished, it was pretty much empty.
One shower was running in the distance as I went to my locker and started peeling out of my sweat-soaked clothes. I was too exhausted to shower right then, so I opted to shower when I got home. I took a fresh towel and wiped myself down then rummaged around in my locker for clean clothes.
A figure moving in my direction caught my eye.
I glanced over to see Carter Hayes, skin still damp from the shower and a towel hung over his shoulder, wearing absolutely nothing. Proudly sauntering to his locker a few down from mine.
I quickly looked away, muttering, “Hey, man.”
“Hey,” he said in return, pausing a moment before adding more. “Aren’t you my neighbor?”
“Uh, yeah.”
I’m not surprised that he’s only just now realizing this, despite the fact that I’ve lived there since elementary school and that we’ve made eye contact plenty of times from across the street.
Carter is way, way above me. Socially and athletically. He’s only noticing me now because I’m getting more playing time this year than last, and I’m friends with Grant, who’s pretty equal in social standings to Carter, maybe even higher.
“You live across the street from me, right?”
“Yep, that’s me,” I answered, finally finding my underwear and pulling them on.
“Yeah, you’re always hanging out with that other kid. With the purple hair and makeup.”
I bristled a bit. It didn’t sound like an insult, but it also didn’t not sound like an insult. I looked over at him and then quickly back to my locker because he was still fucking naked, looking at his phone while he talked to me and making no attempt to put clothes on.
“He’s my friend,” I said simply. Although, Declan and I never seem to interact in school. Neither of us really decided to not talk while we were there, it just kind of happened. It almost makes our hanging out when we’re home more special. Well, for me, anyway.
The conversation dissolved into silence, so I kept getting dressed, sliding on my shorts until his voice interrupted the process. “You don’t have to look away, you know.”
“Huh?” I paused after putting both of my arms into my T-shirt, holding it against my chest instead of lifting it over my head while I tried to figure out what he meant.
“It’s okay to look. At me.”
It is most definitely not okay to look.
But because I was too curious, my eyes drifted over in his direction to find him still naked, leaning confidently against his locker. He ran his gaze around my exposed chest and abs, clear interest in his eyes. I mean, I think there was.
I laughed awkwardly and lifted my shirt up to put over my head. Maybe he was making a weird joke and I just didn’t get it.
He took a step closer to me after I slammed my locker, looking in my eyes with a smirk on his face. “You can look whenever you want.”
Something weird bloomed in my gut. Something I’ve felt before but not when a guy had been talking to me.
“Um, okay.” I barely managed to get the words out before I turned and booked it out the door.
I have no idea what’s going on, but I know exactly who I need to help me get through it.
I drive like a madman to my house, tripping over my feet as I get out of my car once I’ve parked.
Declan recently had his adoptive dad, Harold, install an extension cord down the side of the house so that I can plug in the twinkling lights on his balcony into the outlet by the A/C unit when I need him.
It’s made it a lot easier to get to him, especially because Declan still won’t give me his number.
He says his number is only for people he really trusts, and while I feel like I’ve gained his trust at this point, I understand that Declan is a very careful person, and I try not to push it too often.
But man, I’d love to be able to talk to him whenever I want, wherever I want.
Once I reach the extension cord, I wipe the prongs against my shorts to make sure there’s no moisture and plug it in, illuminating the lights wrapped around his railing.
I back away from the wall to wait, not taking my eyes off the balcony.
But when ten or so seconds go by, and I don’t hear or see him, I get a little impatient.
Walking back over to the extension cord, I unplug it then plug it back in, repeating the process a few more times.
“Hey! Christ! I fucking see you!” I hear him yell right before he rips his balcony doors open and steps outside. “What’s the damn emergency?”
I shift from foot to foot, looking around a bit. “Can you-can you come down? I gotta talk.”
He eyes me for a moment. “Are you good? You seem weird.”
“Yes. I just need to talk to you.”
He nods slowly. “Okay, well I’m comfy right now. You come up here.”
My brow turns down. He’s never had me do that before. Never had me in his space before. “What? Like go through the front door?”
“Ew, no. I love Harold and Nancy but I don’t think I could survive if they thought you were my boyfriend. Can you imagine a sex talk from them? Little old Nancy putting a condom on a banana? No thanks.”
“Then how the fuck am I supposed to get up there?”
“Climb up,” he answers like it’s so obvious.
When he sees the look of disbelief on my face, he continues. “Get on that A/C thing and then jump to grab onto the edge of the balcony floor.” He points me through everything. “Then you just gotta lift yourself up to the railing part and step over. Easy.”
I snort. “Oh, yeah. So easy. I’m sure you could do it too.”
He shakes his head. “Oh, I could never. But I’m cute and small. You’re not.”
I smile before following his directions. I barely manage it, especially since I’ve just got done with practice and am tired as hell. But then I’m lifting my last leg over the railing and standing in front of him.
“Hi,” I mumble, feeling a weird sense of intimacy in the air.
His gray eyes are free of makeup and he has some cozy, striped pajama set on with a fluffy robe tied around his waist. Purple hair damp and pinned back from his face. It makes this moment feel even more close, seeing him so dressed down compared to how he usually is.
It doesn’t take away from how delicate and pretty his face is. If anything, it magnifies it.
He gives a playful eye roll. “Are you going to come in?”
Without waiting for me to answer, he turns and passes through the balcony doors.
I follow, my eyes devouring every detail of his space. The green neon lights that line the corners of his room. The black walls that have some type of sparkle to them. The desk scattered with the artwork I often see him working on at lunch. The doodled-on converses spilling out of his closet door.
“I love your room. The lights really make it feel… cool in here,” I say with some wonder in my voice.
“What’s your favorite color?”
I walk to where he is on the bed, gently sitting an appropriate amount of space away. “Red.”
He reaches into his robe pocket to get his phone, tapping the screen a few times until the lights reflected off his face shift from green to red.
While I’m busy marveling at how the light plays off his skin, he looks up at me and says, “So, what’s going on?”
I twist my hands in my lap. “I’m feeling weird things.”
He narrows his eyes. “Okay. Can you be more specific?”
“Um. Like I feel… sexual things…”
“Okay, well—”
I interrupt him before I lose my nerve to admit it out loud. “For a guy.”
He stills. “Is it someone I know?”
“Carter Hayes.”
He deflates the tiniest bit, confusing me. Does he not like Carter or something?
Actually, what a dumb fucking question. Declan doesn’t like anyone.
“You’ve never felt like this for another guy?”
I shake my head vigorously. “No.”
His lips flatten into a tight line, before settling himself with a deep breath. “Alright. Does Carter know how you feel?”
“I don’t… um, I don’t really know.” I go on to describe exactly what happened with Carter in the locker room—minus Carter bringing him up—including every feeling that passed through me.
He snorts when I’m done. “Oh, yeah. He definitely wants you.”
Somehow that makes me feel worse. I get up from the bed and pace across the floor. “Well, what the hell do I do? I’m so out of my element. I know how to handle girls. I don’t know how to—”
He stands up and slides in front of me, stopping my pacing, and reaches up to place his hands on my shoulders. It feels so good—instantly settling me.
“You need to breathe. Nothing is happening right now. Nothing even has to happen at all.”
I take a deep breath, curling and uncurling my fists to get the tingly panic feeling to go away. “Okay.”
“Do you want something to happen?” He stares intently at me while I think of what to say. I stare back, getting lost in the red light reflecting out of his gray irises.
I blink and focus back on what he asked. “I think I do.”
He smiles at that, but it looks kind of sad—a new type of expression I’ve never seen on him before.
Turning away, he goes back to sit on the bed and starts picking at the purple polish on his nails. “Then you should. Get him alone and let him know how you feel.” He looks up at me, sighing. “You deserve to be happy, Javi. Go after whatever makes you feel that way.”
I walk back to the bed, falling onto my back, letting out a huge groan at the ceiling. “Thank you.” When I get another look at his expression, I sit up. “Hey, are you okay? You don’t seem that happy right now.”
He barks out a laugh. “Do I ever seem happy to you?”
I shake my head and smile. “I know, but it seems like more tonight.”
He looks away and grabs onto his temples, rubbing them. “You know what? I think I have a headache coming on. Can we call it a night?”
“Yeah, of course.” But I don’t move. I get lost again. Trapped in his eyes. In his face. How it all glows with the light. How he’s so dainty and soft. “Munequito,” I say.
He shakes his head. “What?”
“Munequito,” I repeat. “It means little doll in Spanish. You remind me of one. Sometimes. Small. Dainty. Pretty.”
His cheeks flush, and it surprises me how much I like seeing that on him. Then he scoffs a bit. “Ugh. You’re making my headache worse. No more. Up! Out you go!”
He pushes me to stand and starts guiding me toward the balcony doors, pushing with all his might. It’s kind of cute how little the force is.
“Wait.” I put on the brakes and he slams into my back.
“Ow! Fuck. That didn’t fucking help the headache either. Jesus. You’re a tank.”
“I feel like I’ve earned your number at this point. Don’t you?”
He crosses his arms, turning his head slightly to give me a suspicious look. “Why do you even want it?”
I shrug. “I want to talk to you all the time. Anytime I want.”
He blushes again but quickly covers it up with sarcasm. “Well, that sounds like the beginning of a stalking situation.”
I smile easily at him.
“Ugh. Not the half-smile,” he mumbles.
“The what?”
“Nothing,” he whines.
I grab onto his hand, which he snatches back. “Come on, munequito. Just for me?”
He scrunches his face. “Is that a thing now? The nickname?”
I ignore his attempt at distracting me and pull out my phone, waiting.
“Okay.”
I jump and pump my fist in the air. “Fuck, yes!”
“None of that. No thanks.”
“Sorry,” I mutter as he tells me his number and I save his contact info.
I say goodbye and fumble my way through climbing down.
Later, when I’m sitting in bed, I can’t help but smile like a lunatic.
I’m excited about the prospect of exploring this new side of my sexuality, especially with Carter, who I’ve thought about more and have decided he is definitely hot.
But also, Declan finally gave me his fucking number. I can talk to him whenever I want now.
I pick up my phone and type out a quick text, hitting send.
Me
Night, Declan.
Putting my phone back on the night stand, I roll over and fall asleep.
Declan
God, that was fucking brutal.
My phone pings with a text.
Javi
Night, Declan.
I shove my face into the pillow and scream as loud as I can.
I must be a fucking masochist for giving him my number. I should be trying to put some space between us.
But the idea of being able to hear from him even more than I already do? To have him at my fingertips? It was too good to pass up.
Because at this point, I’m pretty much in love with Javier Morales. And he just told me that he has feelings for another guy.
This is going to end so badly.