the boy on the bridge ✔️

12. dumb boy

Chapter 12 — dumb boy

For the rest of the day, Josh remains in a stunned zombie-like state, Ming's words ringing over and over in his head.

It can't be true what she said, can it?

He can't like the bridge boy. He just met him like a few days back. And he barely knows anything about him — he doesn't even know his name, for crying out loud.

Wait, why doesn't he know his name? Why didn't he ask him that? Josh mentally facepalms — he cannot believe he didn't ask him his name and has just been referring to him as 'bridge boy'.

He has to agree with Ming here; he really can be dumb sometimes.

Anyways, back to the main point, there's no way Josh can like the bridge boy, is there?

Sure, he is easy on the eyes — Josh has to be blind to not admit that, and he somehow manages to make feel Josh at ease without trying, and yeah, whatever, he pops up in Josh's mind every now and then, and when that happens, the blond's lips curve upwards all on its own.

That doesn't have to mean–

Shit, I like him.

A fog clears up in his mind and suddenly he can see the truth: he does like him, and yes, Josh is aware that this is the second time he has cursed, and both of the times it has been because of this boy as well.

Josh doesn't know what to make of that yet. He doesn't what to make of anything really, so he focuses on only one thing at first: the present. He's at school. Finish school first.

A few hours later, school is done. Okay, go home. Then straight to his room. And there it is, his ever-inviting bed. It doesn't take him long to discard of his clothes and change into a pair of shorts and climbs under his blankets pulling it over his head.

Sleep, now sleep.

But when has mind ever listened to him? He closes his eyes, but that doesn't mean his thoughts stop either — they come into full focus now that he's not doing anything. He can't ignore them any longer.

He likes the bridge boy, and well, shit.

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Josh wakes with a startle in the middle of the night.

He didn't even realise he had fallen asleep until he jolts awake. He breathes out a loud sigh, his heart beating so fast that it's hard to believe he was just sleeping — he is wide awake now.

There is one very, very transparent thing that Josh completely forgot to even think about. And once again, he feels stupendously dumb — how could he have even forgotten to consider that?

He likes a boy.

He was so shocked to learn that he genuinely liked another person that he forgot to consider that the other person is a boy.

What does that mean for him?

He stares blankly at the ceiling; a sliver of moonlight shines into his room via the partly drawn curtains. Josh wonders what time it is — it's close to three, he finds out when he reaches for his phone.

He wonders if the bridge boy came to the bridge, and if he did, will he still be there.

He shuts down the thoughts as fast as it came.

He has some other things to figure out first.

Has he always liked boys?

He doesn't know. He hasn't really thought about it before because there wasn't a reason for him to.

He can look at a girl and appreciate her beauty just fine, but being attracted to... That's a different thing, isn't it? He comes to a realisation about one thing though — he has always been more easily impressed by males than females.

And okay, if he is being honest, his eyes are more inclined to look at males, but that's only because... Yeah, no, he doesn't really have an excuse for it — it always has been that way.

He did date his best friend for two years, and he did hold her and kiss her, although those were the things he found the hardest about their relationship. Other aspects it was fine, because Valerie was his friend; he didn't mind spending more time with his friend. But was he attracted to her?

He doesn't even have to think about, the answer will be a resounding no.

Josh tries to think any other girls in his school, he might find attractive, or even actresses, but he gives up after ten minutes of thinking. And then, just out of pure curiosity, and to clear the doubt in his mind, he tries to think of someone of the same sex as him, and he finds he can come up with not one or two but more than that names in under a minute.

"What the–" he rubs a hand down his face and covers his mouth, muffling his groan.

Maybe he is... gay.

It doesn't register as a disappointment or a shock to him. Just a simple oh when you find out something new.

With that realisation, something sets free inside him — that little cage that has been rattling about whenever he thinks of the bridge boy, it opens up. He finds it isn't as scary as he imagined it would be; just he feels a little, no, a lot lighter.

Or maybe it's his sleep-induced mind talking. It gets harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open. And when he does let sleep finally take him under, he hasn't slept that peaceful in a while now.

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