Sweet Like Sugar

shug14 has joined the chat.

h0trod69 has joined the chat.

shug14: hi :)

h0trod69: Hey.

h0tod69: asl?

shug14: huh?

h0trod69: How old are you?

Well there was no way I was going to say my real age. I’d been lying about my age on the internet for years now so that was nothing new. I’d been ‘18’ since I was 11.

shug14: 18

h0trod69: Where you from?

shug14: Georgia

h0trod69: I’m in Turkey.

shug14: cool…are you gay?

h0trod69: Yes. Very. Are you?

shug14: maybe.

h0trod69: You sound like you’re experimenting a bit ;) I love straight boys.

h0trod69: What are you wearing right now?

I look down at myself. I’d been laying I bed all day. I hadn’t even bothered to change out of my pajamas and it was almost noon.

shug14: shirtless and some pajama pants

h0trod69: do you have any underwear on?

shug14: uh...yes.

h0trod69: I don’t ;)

shug14: ok???

shug14: question. how did you know you were gay?

h0trod69: Always new.

h0trod69: *knew

shug14: so you never liked girls?

h0trod69: Never. I’ve always loved boys.

This guy wasn’t really helping as much as I thought he would. The whole point of this chat site was to connect with other gay people and share experiences. At least that’s what the welcome page said. So far h0trod69 was the only person who had said more than five words to me that didn’t make me want to call the police.

h0trod69: How big are you?

I take while to think about it. I didn’t know my exact height. I always just estimated it. I couldn't really classify as short but I wasn’t freakishly tall either.

shug14: average.

h0trod69: im almost 9 ;)

shug14: you’re like freakishly huge then. are you some kind of giant?

h0trod69: You know it ;)

h0trod69: top or bottom?

h0trod69: I’m vers.

I honestly didn’t even understand the question. Top or bottom what? Bunk beds? Social scale? Cast system? And what did ‘vers’ even mean. He was speaking in some gay lingo that I had never even heard of.

shug14: idk whichever.

h0trod69: Very nice. Would you let me top you?

shug14: not sure.

h0trod69: You sound so hot.

shug14: thanks???

Not sure how I could actually sound hot though instant chat but a compliment was a compliment.

h0trod69: I’m so hard right now just thinking about you.

h0trod69: I wish I could f*** you.

Gross.

shug14: well I’m not really interested in sexual things. I was just thinking maybe we could talk and share some experiences? :)

h0trod69 has left the chat.

“Well that was rude.” I think aloud before deleting my search history yet again before closing the laptop.

Speaking with h0trod69 wasn’t a total bust, though. He made think of something. He said he ‘always knew’ he was gay. I didn’t. I had just recently started thinking about it and it had already consumed most of my life.

Or maybe I did always know and I just chose to ignore it.

I blow raspberries at nothing in particular to vocalize the sound of my brain figuratively deflating. I hated this. I hated feeling this way.

I think all of the "research" I was doing was making me even more confused. I always just thought it was either gay, straight, or sometimes bisexual but turns out there was an entire rainbow of sexualities out there. No pun intended.

Okay pun intended…just a little.

I could be anything. And sort of liking another boy didn’t have the exact ‘coming to terms’ feeling it should have.

A knock comes from my door that makes me jump a little.

“What Dad?” I call out not really in the mood to hear another rant on the latest book he’d just finished which unfortunately was a very common thing.

“It’s not your dad.”

I freeze. That voice sounded a lot like…But it couldn't be. Could it?

“Hello? Albie?”

I jump up rushing to my dresser to find a clean shirt while simultaneously wiping the sleep crust from my eyes and dried up drool off my face. I end up stubbing my toe against the dresser but place my hand over my mouth before I can yell out in pain. It still comes out as a pretty loud groan though and I mutter out a few swears under my breath.

He knocks again and I slide the first shirt I see on before limping over to open the door.

“Hey.” He’s beaming when I finally open the door. I have half a mind to reach out and touch him. I can’t actually believe he’s in my house. It feels so surreal.

“H-Hi, Finn.” I exhale still in complete shock and try to stop the word vomit that was coming up but I can’t. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He frowns a bit and looks down and I mentally kick myself. “Sorry. I knew this would be weird. It’s just...I really wanted to speak to you and I was going to call, I really was, but your number kind of washed off my hand in the shower.”

I had almost forgotten that he never called me. Almost. But it wasn’t like I stayed up until 2:14 AM exactly and fell asleep clutching the phone, waiting on him to. Ha. No way. That would have just been pathetic.

“Your dad let me in. I really hope this is okay.” He continues while rubbing the back of his neck. “If not, I can leave.”

“No!” I say a little too eager. “I mean, no. I—It’s fine. This is so fine. It’s just so…unexpected. By all means please stay.”

He smiles again softly. “Great.”

“Great.” I repeat mimicking his facial gesture.

I notice he’s wearing a shirt identical to the one he gave me and matching gym shorts. He also has a small backpack on. He looked clean, though. He wasn’t all sweaty like the previous times we’d seen each other.

“So…” He’s shifting his weight back and forth. “…can I come in?”

“Oh yeah.” I flush at how big of an idiot I am and move aside for him to enter.

Kicking a few clothes that are on the ground out of the way, I clear a path and apologize for the mess. It’s not terribly messy but it could use a bit of straitening up.

“This is sparking compared to my room so don’t worry about.” He chuckles a bit standing in the middle of my room awkwardly. He looks around as if he’s taking it all in and nods a bit. “Your room is really cool.”

‘Thanks.” It wasn’t that cool. It was a pretty normal looking room. The walls were painted a dull grayish blue color and I had a few anime and superhero posters up.

I close the door and go back to sit on my bed. It all still seems a bit fake. Like a cruel dream. Finn was in my room and he was standing less than a yard away from my bed, which was where I slept.

What did he want?! Boys like him did not show up at the house's of boys like me for just anything. He definitely wanted something and I was hoping it wasn't math tutoring because even though I was pretty much classified as your average nerd, I sucked at anything beyond 7th grade algebra.

“So I know this is still a little weird but,” He starts to let his backpack fall off his shoulders. “I was thinking that maybe you could help me with something.”

I glance inside of the bag when he unzips it but there’s nothing special. Just some extra clothes and a water bottle and a Gatorade. He digs deeper inside, pulls out a folded up sheet of white paper and hands it to me.

“What’s this?” I open it up only to see there’s something drawn but I can’t really make it out. It kind of looks like a dying kangaroo pushing a wheel barrel.

“It’s a drawing.”

“Really?” I sarcastically respond immediately regretting it. I wasn’t sure how’d he react. According to my mom, my sarcastic remarks could easily be interpreted as rude, so I tried my best to not say them around people who didn't know me that well.

Surprisingly, he laughs. “I drew it. It’s supposed to be a picture of me and my mom but…it’s really bad.”

I take another good look at it but there was no way it was a drawing of human beings. “Uh...it’s not that bad.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, Albie. I know it’s horrible.”

I’d like to sugarcoat him if you get my drift.

I mentally slap myself. Shut up, Albie.

“Ok fine. It’s horrible. I still don’t understand what it has to do with me, though.” I hand the drawing back.

“Well, I accidentally saw your sketch on the field when I almost broke your nose that day and it was really good. So I thought maybe you could help me make my drawing better.” He shrugs kind of and scrunches his face while pitching the idea.

What did Finn Ferguson need with a drawing? This entire situation was just...bizarre.

“Um..I’d love to help you but I honestly don’t think there is anything anyone can do to make that drawing any better.”

He smiles but his shoulder drop in a defeated way and I'm beset with guilt.

“I could maybe try redrawing it for you.”

“Really?! That would be so great.” His face lights up again.

“Quick question, though. Why do you care so much about a drawing, anyway? It’s just a drawing.” I was curious as to why he made it seem like such a big deal. He literally had shown up to my house just to talk to me about it. There had to be more to the story.

He looks down again and I understood this was something he did a lot. “I know it’s really out of character.”

“Just a little.” I make a pinching gesture looking at him though one eye.

“You see, my father’s an artist. A painter actually. Well he used to be. He sells art now and he owns this gallery in Salt Lake. His birthday’s coming up and instead of buying him something, I thought I’d give him a little inspiration…you know so he can start painting again. My plan was to draw it then copy it onto a larger canvas but as you can see, I’m artistically challenged.”

“That's unusually sweet." I raised an eyebrow still not entirely convinced.

"Seriously. My father and I—We don't have the best relationship and I don't know I just want to do something to help that."

It was very unlikely that Finn was a perfect boy but in this moment I can't find find a single thing wrong with him. No one was this nice. There had to be some kind of catch.

“Sooo.” He drags it out and hold out his hands awaiting my answer. “You’ll help me?”

“Sure. I mean I'll help you as much as I can but I'm not sure if I can pull it off. Drawing is just a hobby for me. I'm not a professional or anything. I've never even taken an art class before.” My sketchbook is laying in front of me on my bed and I run my fingers across it. “Do you have a picture of your mom or something? Just so I can keep an idea of how she looks?”

“Yeah. Not with me but I can bring you one. Hey, is this your sketchbook?” He walks over and picks it up.

"Uh..." Before I can even argue about it, he already flipping through it.

If you really knew me then you knew I absolutely hated showing people my sketchbook. It was kind of like my journal but instead of writing about my crushes or how much I hated my parents and school, I just drew everything that came to my mind. There were pages and pages full of just random doodles. It was still very personal and I felt like Finn was creeping all up in it without my permission and it was making me extremely anxious.

However, I did find myself awaiting his approval.

“You really sell yourself too short.” He looks up from my book and I stand snatching it back from him, making sure to grip it tight against my chest so he can't take it again. “You’re amazing.”

I look down before he can see my face turning colors. Heat is creeping from up my neck and spreading to my cheeks and the tip of my ears. “Whatever. They’re just doodles. I don’t draw people a lot.” I keep my book secured against my chest but I don't even dare to look back up at him.

“Well then,” He places his hand on my shoulder. I wonder if he notices that every time he does that I turn to stone. “I’m curious to see how it’ll turn out.”

I shy away from his touch. Christ, I really just need him to leave before my nose started bleeding or I passed out or something. Excessive blushing could not be good for my well being.

“Yeah. Me too.”

“You’re really doing me a solid, Albie. Thanks a lot.”

“Why do you call me Albie?” I mean to only think this but it comes out before I even realize what I’m saying.

He hesitates for a second and I assume he caught off guard by my question. "It's your name, isn't it?”

“Well yeah but you know…everyone just calls me Sugar. I'm honestly surprised that you even know my real name. No one ever calls me Albie.” I explain finally building up the nerve to look at him again. He’s leaning against my desk with crinkles in his eyebrows.

“Well...I'm confused. Do you want me to call you Sugar?”

And, believe it or not, this is the first time that I have ever been asked that question. It throws me through a loop. I was always under the impression that people were going to call me whatever they wanted. That was just how the people in Timbercreek were. No one cared if I hated my nickname and by the time I was seven, I’d grown tired of trying to get Albie to catch on. And here Finn was, giving me this stupid and terribly cute expression and asking me the what I’d always wanted to hear from everyone in the bullshit town.

He really needed to leave or I was going to end up liking him a lot more than I ever planned on.

That was too terrifying to even think about.

“No. Albie is fine.” My voice is sotto voce and tight.

“Okay. Albie it is.” I look away before I can see him smile again.

“Okay.” I start fiddling with my hands as the atmosphere in the room shifts and i'm sure it's all my fault.

After a few moments of the awkward silence that fills the air, he finally pushes himself up off my desk. “Alright then. I’ve got conditioning so I better get going. I’ll bring you a picture of my mom soon, okay?”

“Okay.” I'm still pretty toneless.

“Okay.” He pivots toward the door and I avoid direct eye contact. “I guess I’ll see you later then.”

“Yeah...see ya.” I give a small wave of my hand still not looking up.

“Right.” He stands there for a while and it kind of feels like he’s waiting for me to do something more but I don't' move. I can't. “'kay...bye.”

And he leaves.

I close my eyes to listen to his footsteps as he descends down the hall gets farther and farther away and when I can no longer hear him, I fall back onto my bed, wrap myself up in my covers and blow some more raspberries.