Questions

Jordan stares at the mirror intently. I swear he hasn’t moved at all within the five minutes I’ve been here.

“Do you think I need a haircut?” H e asks, eyes flickering over to me as he speaks.
I sigh, “No, Jordan.”

“Are you sure, maybe I should just get a trim?”

“Yes Jordan it looks fine."

Jordan lets out a puff that is only visible through the reflection. He runs a hand though his hair, “You’re positive it looks fine?”

“Yes, Jordan.”

He stares at me with uncertain eyes, making me know there’s a deeper meaning to what he’s saying. “Do you think I’m fat then?”

I look at him bewildered. Did he really think that? “Jordan, you’re a fucking twig. Why would you think you’re fat?”

“I don’t. I’m just trying to think of reasons as to why I don’t have a boyfriend, cuz there has to be a reason.”

“Well I can give the one and only reason.”
Jordan’s eyes dilate, and watch me, “Really! What’s the reason?” His voice is joyous, making me laugh internally. He was just an adorable kid. Seriously if I could I’d date this boy, but there was no way I’d ever let anyone in on my little secret, especially to my parents. They’d kick me out, for being a sinner, for defying god, for losing my ‘sight.’
By the way I’m Christofer Drew, Chris for short. I’m a eighteen year senior at a public school, who’s population is 90% hardcore Christians. I am currently living in the closed off, homophobic city that is Joplin.

And the adorable boys who is asking me some pretty odd questions, is my best friend Jordan. He gets a lot of shit in this hell hole for being gay, but some how he puts up with it.

“The reason you can’t get a boyfriend is because you’re the only gay guy in a forty mile radius.”

Jordan glares at me with his bright blue eyes, “That’s a terrible reason, and I bet there are more guys who are gay, they’re just too afraid to come out.”

I bite my lip; boy was he right, “Well, there’s that too.”

"Do you think I'm...you know...someone you could fancy?" I was on the verge of saying yes, and then I stopped at the last second.

"Well I wouldn't know, would I?"

"If you were gay?" Jordan turned to him, eyes pleading. I considered spilling everything to him for a second, then decided against it.

"Well I'm not, so I wouldn't know. You look fine. You're hair looms fine and you're not fat. Now sit down and shut up about it."

Jordan harrumphed at me and collapsed onto the bed again, sighing. "I wish I had a boyfriend."

Me too, I thought wearily. But I don't have the guts to get one. "You'll get one sooner or later." I said reassuringly.

Jordan lets out a sigh, “So, you’re sure my hair looks all right? And I’m not fat? I don’t walk funny do I?”

"Jordan, you’re hair is fine and you’re not fat. As for your walk-”

“I walk like an obese duck, don’t I?!”

I let out a chuckle, walking over to Jordan and ruffle his hair, “You walk like everyone else. You don’t waddle.”

He smiles and hugs me.

I have to slowly count down from five in my head.

Five.

If I let him hug me for too long, then he’d think something was up.

Four.

I wasn’t as touchy feeling and huggy as Jordan was.

Three.

I mean I wish could be, especially from him.

Two.

But in my parents book it was wrong to even so much as touch another boy.

One.

I love hugs from him, they’re warm and he smells nice.

Zero.

I sigh and struggle to get out of his grip. Jordan frowns at me and sits on the floor, patting the space next to him. I oblige taking the spot of carpeted floor. Just as I sit down, Jordan's arms snake around me. I can see the smile on his face when I don't move.

"So how was school today?" I ask, as Jordan starts nudging his nose into my chest.

"Same as usual. Cady and Stephen are acting like a couple again. I swear I those two don't start dating soon I'm going to lock the two into a room until they do."

I laugh at his response, more because the way his nose is tickling my chest. "I'm sure you will."

"What about you, what's going on in the world of seniors?" he asks, as his warm breath dances up my chest.

"Went uptown with Cam and Grant, nothing to unusual. I got asked out today, but yeah nothing much."

At the words, "asked out," he pushes of my chest and stares at me, "Who asked you out?" I can't help but notice the frown he's wearing and get the urge to kiss him. I refrain though, nobody was to know.

"It's no big deal, Jordan, I get asked out all the time." I smile down at him and play with his hair.

"Please Chris," he pouts, "I just want to know who asked you."

I let out a sigh, as he leans back into my chest, squeezing me tightly. He gives me those big pleading puppy dog eyes. I bite my tongue trying not to answer him. I cave though and answer, "It was Sierra Kusterbeck."

"She's a whore," I hear him mutter. I'm pretty sure I wasn't sure suppose to hear because me and Sierra were pretty good friends. We'd been in honours chorus for the longest of times. "So what do you plan on majoring in college?"

"I thought we talked about this before?" I ask him.

"We have, I just want to make sure you're still going to be local. Even though you're parents think you should go to some big name school a hundred miles a way."

"Why, afraid I'd leave you?" I ask, feeling vice grip arms attach to me. Jordan brings his head up and starts nuzzling into my neck.

"Yes, please tell me you haven't changed you're mind."

I'd never move away from you, cutie. "I'm not leaving."

He grins against my neck, proceeding to ask, "So my second question; what are you majoring in?"

"Literature or biology."

He frowns at me, hugging me closer, and squeezing. This was part of a game Jordan always played with me, seeing how close he could get to me, before I asked him what he was doing. After these death hugs, he'd usually climb into my lap, that was the time I'd get him to stop.

"I thought you wanted to major in music?"

"I do but my parents don't, they say it won't help me in the long run." and almost as if on cue, Jordan climbs into my lap, straddling my waist.

"Yeah, but that's not what you want to do. It's your choice why you major in."

"But my parents are right, if I major in music, I won't be able to get a good job."

Jordan runs his hands across my chest, usually by now I'd get him to stop, but... This just felt so good.

"Why don't you just don't what you want though, it's your schooling not there's."

"Jordan, honestly I think if I'd major in music I would have problems finding a job."

He doesn't respond. He grabs both of my wrists and pins them either side of my shoulders, securing me in place.

"Jordan, what are you doing?" usually this gets him to back off, shuffling across the room away from me. This time he just continues, taking both of my hands in one of his and running his other hand under my shirt. The skin on skin makes a spark run up my chest.

He pushes my back to the floor, his hands massaging my sides. His then returns to hold our bodies close together.

"Jordan," I repeat, "What are you doing?"

"What the two of us both want. You're a complete chicken, you know that, Chris? I know you're gay. I've known for ages. I probably knew it before you did. So I've tried getting close to you. Holding you. Hugging you. And every time you've made it clear you want me to stop I have, Chris. I've respected your wishes. But I'm tired of it now. Because they're not your wishes, they're your parent's and I'm sick of it!" Jordan's arm around my waist tightened to the point of pain, the brunette nuzzling his face into my hair and sighing. "When you let yourself go for a second you seem as if you like being held. But then you cry uncle and run away. And I know why. You're scared they'll find out. That they'll get pissed. That they'll throw you out. And it haunts you, doesn't it?" Jordan steamrollered on, not waiting for an answer. "I don't see why you can't just be honest with yourself? Do you care that much about being what your parents want you to be, that you're willing to sacrifice who and what you are to keep him happy? Will you marry a nice girl and have nice straight babies so-"

"Jordan, shut up! You don't know what it's like to be in my shoes!"

"You're right," he yells back looking at me, “I don't so why don't you explain to me them!"

"You don know how hard it is to pretend to be something you're not, just so you can have a family. You're parents are fine with you, and support you and are happy with who you are. My parents would hate me and try and beat the gay outta me! Don't go around saying I'm trying to impress them, because in all honesty, if you were in my shoes I think you'd hide it just like me!"

Jordan let's out a tiny huff and gets off me. He holds his knees to his chest. I remain on the floor rubbing my eyes, as tears seem to slowly start.

"You're right, Chris I'm sorry... It's just... It bothers me that you can't be yourself."

“I know.”

Jordan reaches for my hand, pulling at it, pulling me down next to him. He gives me a soft smile. “Don’t stay local for college.”

“But, Jor-”

“No, ‘buts’ Chris. Go a hundred miles away, hell go to California, go somewhere accepting. Just, wait for me… please.” He bites his lip and looks away, “Please, if you do anything else, just wait for me. I’ll follow you in two years, where ever you go.” He grabs my hand and sandwiches it between his. “Please, Chris, please.” He looks up at my eyes and the tears are streaking down his tan face.

“Of course Jordan,” I mumble into his hair and draw him closer. “I’ll wait, I’ll always wait. There’s no way you’re getting rid of me that easily.”

He smiles into my shoulder, tilting his head up. Our noses brush and my breath hitches in my throat. I’m frozen at first, stuck between the facts that this could happen. What if his parents walk in? What if my parents are with them?

Jordan notices my hesitation, “Chris, everything’s fine, everything will be all right. One kiss won’t ruin anything.”

I nod and our lips brush for a second before they depart, only to go back again in seconds. The kiss is soft and gentle. Jordan certainly knew what he was doing. The kiss goes on for a minute, slow and sweet, and then we only abandon each others lips for air.

Jordan bites his lip before blurting, “I love you.”

I grin, leaning forward, noses touching once again, “Love you, too.”