Homophobe

“You are not wearing that to your date. You look like a homeless puppy from the Bronx.”
 
Swallowing the bit of granola bar I’d been chewing as a substitute for dinner, I glanced down at the outfit I’d chosen, which I thought was pretty okay. A grey sweater and some jeans, not really dressy but it wasn’t like we were going to a classy place, anyways. I was looking forward to some McDonalds, really.
 
“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” I said while brushing past her, hoping that if I put enough distance between my house and I, Layla wouldn’t bother to make me go back to change. “And it’s not a date, by the way.”
 
Triumph swelled inside when I heard her defeated sigh. Point 1 for Ash.
 
“At least let me fix your hair,” she murmured while licking both her index fingers and reaching to touch me.
 
“What? No!” I protested. “No, no, that is not okay, I don’t know why you thought that was okay, but it’s not. Get your saliva away from my luscious mane, thank you very much.” With a scowl I swatted her away, making a face when she relentlessly continued to try.
 
After a moment she finally surrendered, giving a melodramatic sigh. For the past half-week all Layla had been babbling about was this not-a-date-date that she’d arranged, how beautiful this guy was and how if she was not the maid of honour at our wedding she’d castrate me. I’d mumbled a few objections here and there, which I’d learned to be pretty useless anyways, but couldn’t deny that my interest had been piqued.
 
Mason was his name, he was a blond and apparently he was about as limp-wristed as I was (which was a lot). In every aspect that she described him, other than his apparent gorgeous looks, he seemed to be the exact opposite of what Chase was. I wasn’t that surprised though, considering Layla adored this new guy and absolutely loathed the other, but the curiosity was itching behind my teeth to meet him.
 
Not that I succumbed to the fantasy world that she’d created, it was just curiosity, really.
 
“I’m just trying to make you look good for your date,” she said while crossing her arms over her chest, her voice acting as if it were obvious.
 
“It’s not a date,” I reminded her, once again.
 
“It’s pretty much a date.”
 
“Did you tell him it was a date?”
 
“… Well, no, but I can’t emotionally abuse him like I do to you!” she confessed with a cheeky grin, punching me in the arm lightly. I never knew why I attracted these sort of characters, and if subconsciously I was a major masochist, because that could be the only reason I subjected myself to this and unrequited loves.
 
“You flatter me,” I deadpanned, my hands stuffed into my sweater pockets.
 
“But that’s why our relationship is so beautiful!”

She grabbed me with a cheesy grin, her small arms attacking me into a death hold that I returned half-heartedly with a laugh.
 
“Oh, yeah, I’m sure you tell that to all your bitches."
 
“Only my favourite ones!” she beamed.
 
I knew that Chase was out with his soccer buddies, and as usual that was when Layla had my undivided attention. About every week after practice they’d all hang out- a giant sausage fest if you asked me, but apparently heterosexual enough for Chase to attend. It wasn’t like I had to be with him every waking moment, he’d try to invite me once too but his soccer friends and I had almost nothing in common other than River who I could stand, but more than once it’d turned into a drinking bash.
 
And my house was always the sanctuary drunken Chase seemed to be attracted to.  Not that I’d ever turn him away, but still, I had a right to complain when he threw up on my favourite pair of slippers.
 
And I didn’t care how girly he called them- they were fucking warm and comfy and felt like clouds gently caressing the soles of your feet, goddamnnit.
 
“It’s him! It’s him! He’s there! Ash, look! Look it’s him!” Layla broke me out of my reverie, bouncing up and down while radiating excitement, her red hair springing with her and her eyes sparkling. “Mason! Over here!”
 
My eyes were immediately drawn to the boy who waved, an inviting smile on his face. He was blond, really light, and pretty tall too. He wore a beanie on his head and a grey coloured flannel shirt- apparently he didn’t get shit for not dressing up.
 
“Mason, this is Ash. Ash, Mason, now become best friends forever or something.” Layla made a sweeping hand motion that looked like a rainbow- how fitting- and grinned at both of us with renewed vigour.
 
“Uh, hey man,” I managed to sputter out with a tense wave, my other hand dug deep into my pocket. The awkward air around me was almost tangible. Welcome to the wonderful world of Asher Mathews, where I couldn’t even meet someone new without making things ten times more uncomfortable for everyone around.
 
“Hey.” He smiled at me, relaxed, apparently unaware of the awkwardness surrounding.
 
Before I could open my mouth to say something, Layla’s voice interjected. “Well, this was fun, but I gotta split. See ya guys! Have fun on your…!” she called over her shoulder, the wink directed at me implying the ending of her sentence, before literally running off in the other direction.
 
“Wh-what!? You! Where are you…? Where are you going!?” I called after her, my arms reaching towards her direction as if maybe I could stop her.
 
Obviously I was wrong.
 
For a moment I only watched as her figure disappeared around the corner, feeling my generally shy demeanour return with a vengeance. I could barely manage to sputter out a word with her presence here, oh god, this was going to be a disaster. Maybe I should just fake sick. Tell him my stomach hurt. Maybe I’d tell him my mom had unexpectedly texted me. I had a dying aunt in the hospital. Dear Aunt Rosie. She was dying of… she was dying of some rare disease that was like one in a million. She was dying and her last wish was to see me. I had to go see her.
 
“Figures,” Mason laughed. “Ah, whatever, wanna go in?”
 
With his eyes stationed on me, I could feel my ears heat up. Damnnit.
 
“Rosie. My Aunt Rosie,” I sputtered out.
 
“Yeah?”
 
He smiled so innocently, blinking as he waited for me to continue. It was like ditching a starving puppy on a street corner.
 
“I… uh, nothing, anyways, yeah, let’s, uh, go in.” I shook my head, running a hand through my hair and feeling a little as if the oxygen wouldn’t enter my lungs fast enough. My hands were still stuffed in my pant pockets and were balled into fists. Following after him, I wondered how soon I was going to regret this decision.
 
It was McDonalds, figures, and relatively empty for a Friday night. I noticed the cashier as a stoner chick from my school, who look bored enough to murder as she gave us both a once over. I felt my palms began to sweat as he stood in front of the register, thoughtfully rolling his eyes over the menu. I swallowed.
 
It wasn’t a date, I reassured myself, it was just two guys, hanging out. Eating some burgers. Taking about guy-like things, like meat and sports and oh god. What did I get myself into? I was going to kill Layla.
 
“What’re you gonna get?” he asked, turning towards me.
 
I blinked. “Um, well, actually I thought Layla was gonna pay for me so I didn’t bring any money…” I mumbled, feeling my cheeks heat up. I scratched the back of my neck, averting my gaze to the tile and taking a deep breath to calm my hammering heartbeat.
 
He laughed again, his voice was low I noted, and his laugh too a little more on the husky side. “I’ll pay, no worries.”
 
This was shaping up exactly like a date. Oh god. It wasn’t like I wouldn’t not want to go on a date with this guy, because Layla hadn’t been completely lying when she said he was pretty much gorgeous, but I was not ready for a date. I liked pretend dates with Chase in the comfort of my bedroom and a box of tissues, those I could handle.
 
This not so much.
 
Not that it was a date, because why would he want to go on a date with me? Right? Maybe he had a boyfriend.
 
“You don’t have to,” I insisted, my lips curving into a shaky smile.
 
“Don’t worry about it.” He dismissed the thought with a wave of his hand, stepping to the side. “Order.”
 
As I hadn’t had dinner, the burger really was calling for me.
 
“Okay,” I surrendered to the hunger. “Um, yeah, I’ll have a quarter pounder,” I told the girl before turning back towards him, “and yeah, thanks man, I appreciate it and stuff.”
 
He only smiled at me, which did not help calm my nerves really, and ordered for himself.
 
After, with trays in hand, we got a booth near the back. I trailed after him, considerably puppy like, and finally felt myself grasp a sense of composure. I was looking too much into things, really. This was a normal everyday thing. I was freaking out over nothing.

Oh god he was looking at me.
 
“So how do you know Layla?” he asked when we’d sat down, unwrapping his burger and continuing to cast me that smile of his he never seemed to be without.
 
“Oh, you know,” I mentally slapped myself because obviously he didn’t know, “school. She was actually, aha, bitching at my best friend and then we sort of became friends. You know how those things… are. Anyways, uh, what about you? How do you know her?”
 
I swallowed, taking a bite into my burger and refusing to look at him. I didn’t think it was possible that I could be any less cool, really. This is why I stuck by Chase and Layla. They did the talking for me, and I just stood there for moral support.
 
“Friend of a friend, you know how those things are,” he teased, but by the light tone of his voice I knew it was good natured, and I chuckled. “All she has been talking about is how I had to absolutely meet her friend…”
 
I figured I was that friend.
 
“She hasn’t shut up about you either, and practically abused me into coming here.”
 
“Is it that bad?”

I paused thoughtfully mid-chew, casting one of the first full fledged smiles of the evening in his direction. “I can’t say, so far I haven’t broken anything but it’s only been five minutes.”
 
“A pretty great five minutes if you ask me." He laughed.
 
After that conversation continued to flow pretty easy between us, and I no longer felt the asinine need to throw up, which I figured was a win if I ever saw one. When the tension finally seeped from my muscles, I learned that Mason was a pretty cool guy. He went to our rival school and liked drawing, favourite drink was iced tea and had a pet iguana named Albert.
 
I figured if anything we could be friends.
 
“Why’d you name it Albert, though? I mean out of all things, Albert."
 
“Clearly Albert is an amazing name. Some great people were called Albert. Einstein, for one. I have a genius iguana and anything you say otherwise is just a result of poor jealousy,” he sniffed, as if he were offended, but a betraying smile twitched on his mouth.
 
Before I could respond, a rush of voices assaulted my ears, coming from the entrance, and my attention was immediately caught. Mason, too, turned in his seat to see what all the commotion was about. Piling in were a bunch of guys in uniform, that I recognized as my school’s soccer team. Just as that thought dawned on me, Chase’s familiar face entered my line of view and our gazes met.
 
Seeing me, he immediately broke apart from the rowdy group, that was obliviously receiving death glares from all the employees, and headed in our direction.
 
“Ash!” he called with a wave and a grin on his face.
 
I felt almost a little dear-in-headlights for reasons I couldn’t explain.

“Uh, hey Chase," I murmured, my voice sounding a little less confident than I would've liked.
 
When he noticed my company, his eyes immediately snapped to the other boy, and narrowed.
 
“Chase, this is-”
 
“Mason Reynolds.”
 
My eyes flickered between the two, who both had apparently forgotten my existence, and could see the recognition spark in both their eyes. I'd seen the look before on Chase, and it wasn't a good one.
 
Fuck.