Denial.

The beating against my rib cage isn’t a hammer, I promise you that, but a heart. A heart that is doing every unhealthy thing that would make a doctor go mad and wish for immediate surgery. It’s a heart that is doing flip flops and tumbles and back flips and skips because of one boy. It’s a heart that is being surrounded by those stupid fucking cliché fluttering butterflies that makes the body tingle and sensations shoot from one limb to the next. All because of one boy.

And this one boy, although he doesn’t know it, holds said heart in his very hands to do with as he pleases. He could crush it, hold it, keep it warm, freeze it over, tear it to shreds and then piece it back together, laugh at it, smile at it, love it, hate it, he can do whatever he wants to it and I honestly wouldn’t care.

Oh, how I loathe these feelings. I wish I could have them towards a girl, but at the same time I don’t, because if I did then…they just wouldn’t be as good, as amazing. Jordan, I know, is the only one to make me feel this high, like I’m on cloud 9. Only Jordan.

And all because of one movie night! We didn’t even do anything but watch a shitty movie. We didn’t hold hands, kiss, hug, nothing that a couple would do to get these feelings. We were simply next to one another and that is enough to make my heart soar. Is that pathetic? Is it wrong? Because if it is, oh man then I must be fucked because it felt so damn right.

Slowly, the hammering against my rib cage comes to a stop and I thank whatever being is watching over me for letting it because I get home just as it does. I wouldn’t want mother asking why I look like I’m as high as a kite. I wouldn’t want dad to get suspicious that his son was getting a crush on another boy.

No, we wouldn’t want that at all.

I step into the house with a smile on my face and shut the door quietly. The TV is on and I pass my parents, who are cuddled up on the couch, and immediately head for my room where I shut the door behind me and curse at myself for being such a girl.

I shouldn’t be getting this worked up over a boy. Jordan or not, he’s still just a boy.An amazingly, beautiful, talented, caring, fucking hot as hell boy. And there goes my conscience again, messing everything up.

~

I wave towards Zach to head off to next period, gym. I have a slight bounce in my step, I know that, and I curse every being out there for making me like this. If only I liked girls this would be so much easier, but the moment I step into the gym and see Jordan in his white wife beater that shows off the muscles we all know he has and a pair of gray basketball shorts I take it all back.

Oh no…liking a girl would not be easy at all with a hunk of man that good looking walking around…extremely gay though, ignore that!

“Dillon,” Jordan calls and I stiffen against the wall. Looking from side to side, I realize that there are so many better candidates than me and it makes a lump form within my throat. Swallowing that lump, I make my way to Jordan’s side.

Some guy next to him scoffs, probably because he knows I suck at sports and am no good for the team. But Jordan just smiles and puts an arm over my shoulders. The skin to skin contact is enough to make my breath hitch, heart stop, toes curl, and eyes close in pure contentment. I wish for this to never end, but sadly it does the moment coach calls for the game.

And as expected I completely suck, but Jordan just smiles and tells me you’ll get it next time. I think we both know that I definitely will not be getting it next time. Hearing that from him is still nice though…

The sound of the whistle informs us that gym is finally over, which I am somewhat sad for. It is always nice to watch Jordan. The way his chest rises and falls, the sweat the rolls down the side of his cheeks, the way his muscles ripple beneath his shirt, the occasional swiping off his hand up his shirt to show off the abs beneath…oh god, bad image, bad image!

Jordan calls for me and I scurry over to him and just as I reach him the bitch incarnate comes up to us. She giggles, I guess to sound cute, and places her manicured finger nails against Jordan’s chest. I bite my lip to keep myself from screaming at her for touching him and his magnificent body.

“Jordan, I was wondering if you’re going to be busy this weekend. My parents aren’t going to be home, maybe you could come over and we could spend some time together?” Only an idiot wouldn’t be able to tell what she was suggesting and by the forced smile on Jordan’s face I could tell he was not interested.

So working up every ounce of courage within my very being I say, “He can’t.” Two sets of eyes on me, one angry, the other quite curious. “Jordan and I planned on playing some ball this weekend and hanging out.”

“Then re-schedule-” Shelby went to snap, but Jordan cuts her off.

“Sorry, can’t Shelby, you heard the man. Maybe another time.”

Shelby sighs and I can tell she wants to argue, but doesn’t just to say on Jordan’s good side, although we all know she definitely is not. The slut walks away, back to her posse of Barbie wanna-be’s and once they’re gone and out of ear range, Jordan throws me into a hug and whines childishly, “My soul was almost given to Satan! Thank you so much, Dillon, you saved me!”

Feeling Jordan’s body against my own has my knee’s quivering. I don’t dare let this moment slip away and quickly throw my arms around him in a “manly hug.” I will not pass up an opportunity to have a wet Jordan pressed against me. Fuck…aren’t I supposed to be trying to not think about that and go back to girls? But it’s Jordan…he’s better than any girl.

“Were you serious?”

“Hmm?” I look up at him after we both have changed and stepped back into the gym to wait for the bell.

“About hanging out this weekend? Are you serious? Because I’m honestly not doing anything and if you want we could…maybe you could teach me to skate?” The way his eyes lit up with excitement made me nearly melt on the spot. Fuck, this boy is driving me nuts. I guess I’m just happy because he’s interested in something that I like and that…it just feels good.

“Yeah, we can do that,” I manage to say without sounding like a fool. Jordan gives me a toothy grin and sets up a time for me to pick him up. After that we head our separate ways and all the way to my next period I can’t help but think about this…could I call it a date? I don’t care, that’s what I’m calling it.

A date with Jordan, I like the sound of that.

~

“Yeah, just like that, now use your foot to give you momentum…no, you’re other foot.”

Jordan looks at me shyly, a light pink dusting beneath his eyes. It’s quite adorable, but I don’t comment and watch him silently use his back foot to push him. The board wiggles beneath his feet and he uses his arms to keep him steady. He cheers at the fact that he didn’t fall off, until he hit’s a slight bump in the gravel and jumps off in fear of falling off.

I laugh. “You aren’t going to die. Besides, getting injured during skating is cool.”

Jordan gives me a what-the-fuck look. “What the hell is your problem?”

I grin and show him one of my souvenirs. It’s just above my elbow, a scar from when I broke my arm when doing an ollie off a set of stairs and landing on my arm wrong. The moment Jordan sees it, he frowns and looks at me quizzically. “You’re weird. You’re all weird.”

“Geesh, if you want to learn to skate you have to have the will and the beliefs!”

“Mm, I was kind of hoping that I’d never get into something that involved martyrdom.” Jordan smirks at the pout that is now adorning my features. Kicking at the rocks beneath my feet, I huff and cross my arms, looking stubbornly towards the sky.

“Just keep practicing, pretty boy.”