Finding Me Out

He hadn’t called. He hadn’t called and that was yesterday now and I was about to walk upto the spot where we always met. What if he wasn’t there? What if he was there? What would I say? Would he just walk straight past me?

I had been staring at my feet, trying not to look up in case he wasn’t there and I had to face the disappointment. I realised that my worrying had been in vain, however, when I ran straight into him. We both stumbled backwards a little and I felt my cheeks heat up.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, again. You must think I’m the biggest jerk ever.” I sighed, trying to avoid his gaze as I just stood there, unsure of what to do or how he would respond.

“Yeah, I do,” Demitri answered, smiling. He wasn’t mad at me? What even, “but you’re also the cutest jerk ever so it kind of makes up for it a bit.”

“Fuck you,” I laughed, so relieved he didn’t hate me. I needed to get to know this guy. I really wanted to hug him for some reason and almost by reflex I took a step closer and put my arms around his shoulders softly, realising too late how awkward this was.

It felt nice being this close to him; his hoodie was soft and warm and his being a few inches taller than me didn’t make it uncomfortable like it was sometimes when hugging people of different heights. I started feeling really stupid after a couple of seconds and moved to release him but he stopped me by putting his arms around my lower back, pulling me closer.

Butterflies erupted in my stomach, the back of my throat tickled a little and it just felt... nice. This was totally a sign we were meant to be. Oliver and Demitri, our names sounded cute together. I realised the lady from yesterday was glaring at us again from the other side of the walkway. Homophobic much? We were just hugging. It’s not like we were making out... yet. Please God, let us make out! Wait, now I sound like a creeper.

“Sorry, I made it awkward. I’m just happy cause I like you and I don’t want you to think I’m some massive douche bag or anything, I’m really not. Pinky swear!” I pulled away a little and held my pinky finger out to him, smiling shyly. He probably thought I was the weirdest person ever; maybe I was. Nah, if I was I’d probably be in the world records book. Those people do some seriously crazy shit.

Demitri chuckled quietly, linking our pinky fingers together. His hands felt soft but as I unlinked our fingers, the end of his pinky brushed my hand and I felt rough, blistered skin. “Do you play guitar?” I asked quietly, before I could stop myself.

“Yea, sometimes; I’m not very good. Why’d you ask?” He asked, gazing at me strangely. His attractiveness just went up to a solid nine and a half cause, shit, musicians were sexy.

“You, um, have blistery fingers. My sister used to play guitar and she always complained about the blisters,” I mumbled. It was true, Annette was always whining about how much it hurt after she practiced. I told her to shut up once, she hit me; I told her to quit, she said it was the price of being a rockstar. It was funny, she was the kind of girl who listened to the most mainstream hiphop and pop, yet she claimed to be learning guitar to be in a band. We never got along much.

Demitri held his hand up and stared down at his fingertips, examining the thick, slightly peeling skin. He didn’t look like he was really concentrating, just like he was trying to think of something to say. He was simply adorable, I had to admit. Hell, I’d never denied it, or even tried to. And then I had to go check my fucking phone for the time and ruin everything.

“Shit! I really have to go, I’m so sorry. I promised Mom I’d cook dinner for her since she’s always complaining about how she never sees me anymore since I moved out. But yea, you have my number if you want to text me or something...” I trailed off. God, how much more pathetic could I sound? He wouldn’t text me. He defiantly wouldn’t call. And he would, under no circumstances go on a date with me. That’s what the mean voice in my head was saying, anyways.

“Oh, okay. I’ll call you tonight then maybe?” It might just’ve been wishful thinking but it sounded like he was hopeful; in fact, he blushed a little after saying it. FUCK YEAH!

“Sounds good, talk to you later,” I smiled at him and, in a moment of bravery I never thought myself capable of, kissed his cheek clumsily before practically running off in the opposite direction, towards where my car was parked.