You Suck at Love

"I'm sorry I kissed you." Jude told me before Chemistry started.
I sat in my seat and pulled my notebook and textbook out of my backpack. "Why are you sorry? It's just a kiss."
He stared at me. "Just a kiss?"
"Well, if you're really that upset about kissing me - so upset that you had to run away right after you did it - then you must not have meant to do it. A kiss with no meaning is just a kiss. I can get over it... if that's what you want."
He looked down. "Yeah, that's what I want."

Can my heart break twice in two days?

"Okay, Jude. Then it's like it never happened."
"Why are you so cool about this?"
"Because... I don't want to lose you as a friend by making a big deal of this."
He nodded. "...Can I... can I ask you something?"
"Yeah."
"Are you gay?"
"Y-Yeah."
"Oh that explains it."
"Explains what?"
"Well, if you were straight, you'd be freaking out a whole lot more about the kiss. And you wouldn't have kissed me like that."
I stared at him, feeling the blood rush to my face. "W-What?"
He bit his lip. "That kiss... it..." he scratched the back of his neck. "Look, I don't want you to think I don't like you, because I do. It's just that I can't handle being in a relationship right now. I don't know when I'm going to be ready for one again."
"So you're not even going to try?"
"I don't want to hurt you-"
"What makes you think I'll get hurt?"
"-and I don't want to get hurt again." He looked at me, then turned away. "It's just better this way. I'm sorry Jonah."
I closed my eyes. "I don't want to hear that you're sorry. It's like you're apologizing for liking me in the first place, and please don't tell me that's true."
"No, I do like you-"
"But you don't want to like me right now?"
He didn't say anything.
"Like I said... it's like nothing ever happened, because that's what you want."
"Jonah-"

I got up and sat at another table. I know that was pretty childish, but I couldn't sit there next to him right now. I was too hurt and too angry. I'm surprised my heavy heart even let me stand. The second bell rang and the class filed in. Some girl sat next to me and almost immediately began texting on her phone as soon as class began. At least I won't have to worry about someone bothering me.

I think I looked pissed off the rest of the day. People looked at me and avoided talking to me. I didn't even feel angry though.

I went home. I couldn't go cry in my room like I wanted to because my mom was vacuuming in there. I sat on the couch and stared at the TV that wasn't even turned on. Torrison walked by and sat on the couch, took the remote and turned on the TV.

"I'm sorry, were you watching that?"
"Shut up, Torrison. I'm not in the mood."
"Why are you always angry when you talk to me?"
"Because you always make me angry. It's not your fault today though, I've just had a bad day."
"What happened?"
I scoffed. "Like you care."
"I do care. When you're upset, you yell at me, and I'm tired of hearing you scream in my ear."
I glared at him. "Thanks for your sympathy."
"No really, what's wrong?"
"I got rejected."
"By who?"
"Does it matter? He said he wasn't ready for a relationship."
"So maybe he didn't want to be in a relationship right now."
I shook my head. "I just don't think he wants a real relationship, especially not with me."
"Why do you say that?"
"I'm not exactly a dreamboat. I'm not hot or smart or funny-"
"Are you being depressive, because you know I can't stand that."
"Well, it's how I feel."
He muted the TV. "Look, you aren't a teen heartthrob or anything, but you aren't hideous."
"Thanks...?" I guess this was a compliment from his side.
"Your looks are pretty stunning actually. I'm surprised you don't have more suitors."
"...Who says suitors anymore?"
"My point is that with your looks you could have lots of people wanting to be with you."
"Maybe, but I don't want people to just like me for my looks, I want them to like me because I'm... an interesting person. Like you, you have a girlfriend - you've had tons of girlfriends, even though I think you're an absolute dick - no offense."
"None taken - even if you don't like me, at least someone does."
"See, that's what I mean - for some reason, people like you. I don't see what it is, but when you and your friends hang out, you guys always have deep conversations and laugh and just.... like each other. You're a jack-ass, but you still have your looks and your smarts and your annoying ability to point out people's flaws - you're good at something, even if it is being a know-it-all asshole pretty boy... no offense."
"I don't intend to point out people's flaws. I just try to help them so they can fix them. If you think you're so flawed and I'm so perfect, do you even want my help?"
"Yes I do. I want to feel like I'm good at something, like somebody likes me for how I look and what I do. I just don't want to feel... worthless."
"Well, then you need a hobby."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. What do you like to do?"
"Nothing -I'm terrible at everything. I'm a klutz and I'm not that bright."
"Okay, so let's think of something that you could do that wouldn't involve you having to use your brain or your sense of balance. Can you think of anything that a nice guy with a good face can do without messing it up?"
I shook my head.
"...All I can think of is modeling, but like you said, you're a klutz. Maybe you can just stand there and look pretty."
"Shut up, Torrison."
"And we're back to that response again." He turned the volume up on the TV. "Maybe you should think of something that doesn't require you talking either."

I smacked him in the head with a pillow just as my mom was coming downstairs. "Jonah, don't hit your brother." I rolled my eyes and went up to my room. I didn't feel like singing or posting a video today. I didn't feel like doing anything. So I just laid there in bed until I fell asleep...

"You're pretty attractive, Jonah." Jude kissed me deeply. His hands found their way into my hair and he pressed our lips closer... and our bodies closer... His hands roamed over my body, lifting up my shirt. He pulled it over my head then quickly pressed his lips to mine again. A minute later, I was completely exposed, and so was he.

Sweating and grunting and moaning, touching and biting and groping, thrusting and humping and groaning...

"Fuck, I'm so close!"

I woke up sweating, my wet dream still stuck in my head. I groaned and looked at the clock - 6:00, a half hour before it's supposed to ring. I can't believe I slept all night, or that I had that dream. I sighed.

"I'm just a pretty face with an overactive libido. I guess I'd make a good whore." I joked, but something in my brain clicked. A whore... is that really what my brain thinks I'd be good at?

I knocked on Torrison's bedroom door. After a minute, he opened the door a crack. His shirt was off and his hair was a mess.

"Can this wait? I have company."
I saw his girlfriend looking just as disheveled on his bed. I looked away and turned back to him. "Can I ask you something stupid?"
"Like I said, can't it wait?"
"Just one question."
He sighed. "Shoot."
"Do you think I could be a prostitute?"
His eyes widened. "A prostitute. Since when has that been a career goal for you?"
"I'm serious. You said I looked good, and I doubt I can mess up sex, especially if I don't have to do much - I could let them do all the work."
"Okay, back up. First of all, have you even had sex before?"
"Yes, remember Brian?"
He frowned. "Gross, you did it with him?"
"Can we get back on track please?"
"Okay, second - aren't you gay?"
"I could be a gay prostitute."
"Could you handle all of that pounding?"
"Torrison, I'm tired of waiting." His girlfriend whined.
"Look, we'll talk later. Maybe you'll have thought this out by then." He closed the door.

I know it sounds like a crazy stupid idea, but it makes sense... to me anyway. What else would I be good at anyway?