Homophobe

“Ash… Ash I... come, come outside!”
 
I groaned as I heard another pebble hit the pane of my window- rather unromantic considering how tired I was and the absolute drunkenness of Chase. Adding that his brown head of hair was the last thing I wanted to see on that night, with everything that had gone down before, I wasn't really looking to play a Twilight Zone version of Romeo and Juliet. Still, somehow, I found myself kicking off my dark blue covers and swinging my legs over the bed.
 
That was when it was official. I was his complete and total bitch.
 
My mind wandered to the earlier non-event that took place at McDonalds, that even if, was a little too theatrical for my liking. Chase always had a flair for dramatics, anyway. I’d learned that after he stood on a table freshmen year and proclaimed his acceptance onto the school’s soccer team, gaining applause from everyone in the room, and how he was going to crush the rival school until they were crying.

Chase never changed.
 
“Mason Reynolds.”
 
My eyes flickered between the two boys, the tension between them almost thick enough to slice with a damn machete. Mason, while the smile on his face continued to be ever present, seemed to also return the weirdly intense atmosphere.
 
“Well, that’s cool, you guys are acquainted now. Did you know he has an iguana? A pet iguana, named Albert, too! Who’d a thunk it, right? Aha, guys? Chase? You listening to me?” I continued to ramble awkwardly, pathetically trying to gain someone’s attention with the river of words that poured from my mouth. I waved my hand between them. “Woohoo! Guys?”
 
Chase’s gaze coasted back onto me, not softening in the slightest. “Why’re you hanging out with this guy?”
 
“Is there a problem that he’s hanging out with this guy?” Mason interrupted as I opened my mouth. I figured that anything I said at this point was futile- there was no saving the burning building that was this situation, but all hope diminished as the blond’s words touched the air. There was something in his voice that seemed to propose the invisible challenge.
 
Confrontation was Chance’s metaphorical middle name.
 
“Now that you mention it, yeah, there is. So you can go leave now, cocksucker.”
 
I swallowed, slapping my hand on my cheek and pulling down the skin. “Hey, guys, you know…” I feebly tried to intervene.
 
Again, invisibility should’ve been my super power because I was completely ignored. I should’ve started a campaign for Asher’s rights.
 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know you controlled every aspect of Ash’s life. Say, Ash, are all your friends complete dicks or is it just this guy?” he asked cheekily, a mocking cheerfulness to his words as he jabbed his thumb in Chase’s direction.
 
Now I was acknowledged, the only time I wanted to disappear.
 
“Ash, I swear to God,” Chase practically growled, his muscles visibly flexing and his jaw tense. My mind was immediately thrown into panic mode.

I could almost feel the beads of sweat forming on my forehead as they both stared what felt like right through me, both waiting for me to pick a side in their figurative battle, their eyes demanding an answer. I swallowed and did the only reasonably intelligent course of action any mature and sensible person would do.
 
I made a break for it.
 
“What’s that? The time? So late! Gotta run, see you guys later!” I sputtered out while swiftly slipping out of the booth and making a direct route towards the exist. I could hear the sound of Chase calling my name after me but I promptly ignored it while bursting through the door. I didn’t stop running until I was two blocks away and safe from any further of whatever the hell that was.  
 
I realized I really needed to do more cardio as I started gasping for air, feeling the burn in my lungs and muscles, but thankful that I was able to escape. I knew that I couldn’t ever really do so from Chase, and would get an unmerciful interrogation sooner or later, but I was also a little down that I never got Mason’s number. Despite Chase, he seemed like a pretty cool guy. I didn’t know what Chase seemed to have against the blond, or how they even knew each other in the first place, but I wanted to see him again.
 
And I really wanted to meet his pet iguana.

And even more importantly, I didn't even get to finish my delicious free burger.
 
I’d ignored all of Chase’s texts, hoping that maybe his drunk self would get the message that I was avoiding him, but apparently not as I heard his slurring voice echo through the night. Right, because ignoring him actually meant that I wanted to see him face-to-face in his mind.
 
“Shut up, man,” I whispered harshly, poking my head through the window and feeling the night air prickle at my skin. I saw him wave up at me with a sloppy grin, swaying slightly from left to right. Completely and totally hammered, just as I expected.
 
“Let me in!” he called.
 
“If you shut the fuck up, then maybe.” I pressed a finger to my lips, trying to get my signal across.
 
“I promise?”
 
I sighed. “Fine, just wait a moment.”
 
Trudging down the stairs, I ran a hand through my hair in annoyance. Drunk Chase was never a good time when all I really wanted to do was fall asleep, maybe have a good dream, get a good rest. Drunk Chase usually wanted to do incredibly stupid things instead like make peanut butter and mayonnaise sandwiches naked.
 
Not that I really minded, but I wanted to sleep too.
 
“Well, come in.” I stared blankly at the boy in front of me, looking a lot like a lost puppy. And this was why I could never tell him to leave.
 
“Ash!” he gasped, his features lighting up child-like as he tackled me into a hug. “You came!”
 
“Obviously,” I murmured, patting his back with reassurance and ignoring the fact that he was nuzzling into my shoulder.
 
Drunk Chase was always really affectionate, which at first I didn’t mind, but it’s the sort of thing that made my head spin too. I had to take a moment to remind myself that he had no idea what he was doing, he was completely smashed and would hug a rabid bear at that moment, and to calm my thundering heartbeat. Nothing good would come from assuming anything, because he hardly ever paid it any mind the next morning.
 
“You’re mad at me,” he mumbled into the crook of my neck, his words jumbling together, and I could feel his lips moving against the fabric of my shirt. “Thought you wouldn’t let me in.”
 
I swallowed, ignoring the threatening shivers. “You’re drunk, I can’t just let you wander the streets.” Ignoring my inner voice, yearning to pull him closer, I separated myself from the warmth of Chase’s body, holding him out at arms length. “You’d probably end up in a ditch and like hell am I having that on my conscience.”
 
A grin lit up his face as he tried to grab me into another hug, which I skilfully evaded while getting a grip on his wrist and pulling him along. At this point the only thing on my mind was getting him upstairs, in bed, and hoping that he wouldn’t throw up.
 
It was easy to drag him along, he was surprisingly obedient as I told him to shush and stop stomping, mimicking my actions in the dark. I rolled my eyes as he chuckled, desperately trying to disregard the fact that somewhere along the way my hand had slipped into the grip of his.
 
Finally, with a sigh of relief, I closed my door shut and turned to the boy in front of me. He stood there, swaying a little, bathed in the moonlight streaming in through the window. He reeked of booze still, and I could only imagine what he’d gotten up to that night.

Maybe he finally hooked up with Tiffany.
 
“Ash, don’t hang out with that guy anymore, m'kay?” He looked up at me while taking a seat on my bed, bouncing a bit. His eyebrows knitted together, a troubled expression written upon his face.
 
I only spared him a glance as I rummaged around in the mess of my dresser, trying to find a clean pair of pyjama pants. “That was the first time I met him anyway, calm down.”
 
“Promise me,” he insisted. “Promise me right now you won’t.”
 
I rolled my eyes. “Why do you care so much? What’s your beef with this guy?”
 
“Just believe me when I say some fucked up stuff, Ash, he’s no good. Just stay away from him. Why can’t you promise me?” his voice was bordering on pleading, a whiny undertone to his words. “Just promise!”
 
“I can take care of myself, you know,” I muttered under my breath, but in the silence in my room, it was clearly heard.
 
“I just don’t want you getting hurt, man, you’re my best friend and… and…” his voice trailed off as I finally managed to seize a clean pair for him among the mess of shirts and jeans.
 
“And I know, okay? I’m not going anywhere, you’re drunk and over thinking things,” I reasoned with him, oblivious to the creaking of my bed until I could feel his presence right behind me.
 
“’M not that drunk,” he slurred when I spun to face him, his eyes wide and stationed on me. Too close for comfort, really. This was shaping up a lot like my Thursday nights alone with a bottle of lotion, and I was not okay with that.
 
I laughed, shaking my head. “Yeah, you are that drunk.”
 
“I’m not!” he whined, crossing his arms over his chest. “I just don’t want you to get ruined by that dick!”
 
I raised my eyebrows, mimicking his arms with the pants still clutched in my hands. “Why do you even care, seriously?” I voiced out of frustration. By the way his face shifted from the juvenile pout to something more serious, I instantly regretted it. I knew that I was being stupid for my own reasons, but I was tired and losing patience fast.
 
“Because you’re mine and I don’t like people destroying what’s mine.”
 
Our gazes fuzed together and for a moment, I held his eyes, overwhelmed with the sombre expression on his face. No laughter, no anger, completely and utterly serious. In fact, I was so taken in by it, that I barely even noticed the proximity growing lesser between us until his face was mere inches away, breath fanning out on my lips, eyes continuing to bore into mine.
 
I stood completely stoic, heart thundering and fingers gripping so tightly to the pyjama pants that my knuckles washed white. He’d always been a little closer than usual when drunk but never this close, and never with that sort of look.
 
This was happening.
 
This was it.

His eyes wandered down my face, focusing on my lips, and I could feel my head grow light. He was staring at my mouth. He wanted to kiss me.

Chase Evans was going to kiss me.
 
Until his face immediately paled, a hand slapping over his mouth and his eyes bulging as he made a break for the bathroom. I could hear him throw up in the other room, spilling about everything he’d had to eat that day into the toilet.
 
Finally getting a grasp of reality, I tried to calm down my breathing and heartbeat, placing my palm on my burning forehead in attempt to cool it down. Oh god.
 
What the hell just happened?