White Teeth and Blue-Blooded Boys

I liked playing soccer but I liked watching Henry play soccer more. And yes, I know I sound like one of those freshman girls who go to high school soccer games just to ogle at the hot older boys, but I can't really help it.

(I couldn't help that Henry brought the inner girl out of me; that he pulled out the infatuation that comes with being a girl.)

I was sitting right behind the white line that signaled the playing field, hoping that the grass wouldn't bleed onto my pants. I was trying to do homework but couldn't concentrate because every time I heard Henry's name on someone else's voice I looked up. I didn't want to make it obvious I was always - always - looking for Henry, so I'd see some other guys run by and I'd smile and they'd smile back and then I'd pretend like I was doing my homework.

Once in a while a teammate would jog over and ask about the injury from last practice that kept me on the sidelines this practice.

"It's okay," I'd say because it really was.

And then they'd go back to kicking the ball with another teammate and I'd go back to pretending I wasn't enjoying the way Henry's shirt clung to his chest with sweat. Usually I'd bitch about how practice ran ten minutes longer than normal but since I wasn't actually practicing I wanted to thank coach. I wanted to thank him because that meant I was able to stare at Henry for another ten minutes without being questioned about it. Once practice was unfortunately over I crammed my unfinished homework back into my bag and jogged my way over to where Henry was. He was bending down and shaking the water jug while making aggravated noises. (It was kind of cute.)

Eventually he managed to get about half the paper cup filled with water and gulped it down in one go, throwing it into the plastic bag that became the makeshift garbage.

"You did well today," I said once he wiped his mouth on his arm.

"Thanks, man. Do you think you'll be able to play in next week's game?"

It made my stomach buzz knowing Henry cared - even if it was only because he was my best friend. I shrugged my shoulders in a non-verbal response and walked by his side as he made his way over the hill that separated the school from the soccer field. I couldn't help but notice how nice it was, that the wind wasn't hot nor cold; it was the type of wind that felt like nothing, really. The sky was such a crystal blue that I wondered how it was possible to not go blind by looking up.

(That was how I felt about Henry: that every time I looked at him I was risking blindness).

We didn't talk, I think Henry was too exhausted for that, but it didn't matter because I was too focused on the way his bare arm rubbed against mine and hoping he couldn't hear my heartbeat through my chest. In the second it took for my heart to skip again I realized that Henry's sweat didn't smell bad, instead it smelled like vanilla and wood and what orgasms felt like. For a moment it almost felt like we were walking through a glass box, that one wrong breath could shatter it.

That one wrong breath turned out to be a blond haired, good intentioned girlfriend coming up behind us and scaring the shit out of us. She kept her arms around Henry's waist when he turned around to place a sweaty kiss to her lips.

I pretended I didn't have to look away.

Their impromptu make out lasted for longer than I could stomach so I just made my own way back towards the school, trying to swallow back the image of Henry's hands probably under her shirt and the aching in my chest that came with it. By the time I got to the double doors of the school Henry was still with Sophia so I decided I'd just head home to watch TV alone and re-heat day old mac and cheese.



By the time I got home I had three texts from Henry and little to no motivation to reply to them. Instead I tossed off my shoes in the entryway, calling out to see if someone was home(which no one was) and went to my room. My bed was just as messy as it was the past three days, probably dirty clothes made a pile in the corner and empty soda cans littered my desk. I didn't like my room to be messy but I was too lazy to clean it, so I just left it until it got so bad that my mom would be so repulsed by the thought of someone seeing it that she'd clean it herself while I was at school. Which usually was about two weeks, give or take a few days.

Until then I could deal with it and dragged my laptop over to my bed, flopping down onto my stomach and turning the computer on. I didn't do anything particular on the internet; browsed random websites, scrolled through the idiocy of Facebook and looked up music. I was busy looking up the Sparknotes for the book I was reading(or not) in English when I was reminded of Henry's texts by the buzz in my pocket. I fished out my phone and finally looked at the messages Henry had sent over the past hour.

'hey u didn't wait up for me'
'okay i guess you went home :('
'let's hang this weekend'
'have u sparknoted the english book??'

I smiled at the last text because of course he sent it while I was doing just that; some odd intuition, maybe? (Probably not, but it hurt less to pretend). I propped myself up on my elbows and replied.

'sorry, u took too long with sophia and okay we can do smthing. also i'm sparknoting it rn'

I mindlessly tossed my phone onto the bed beside me and went back to half checking Facebook and half reading enough sparknotes to pass off to my teacher that I actually read it. And write a paper about it, but I didn't like to think about that travesty. Not a minute later my phone buzzed again and I wasn't surprised to see Henry's name smiling up at me.

'but i got some under the shirt action, so it was worth it. cool, tell me about the book tmrrw.'

I cringed and ignored the first part, not wanting to picture the hands that I imagined on my body on someone else's. As I stared at the text I couldn't concentrate on anything else, let alone some book I didn't care about, and felt some weird urge to get back at Sophia by jacking off to Henry; to him kissing me, to him loving me instead of her.

It was pretty childish but I knew I was going to do it either way, so I decided why not earlier then later?