Crush

Skip

Oliver

Jenson threw more chips into his mouth, happily munching away while his eyes were glued on the shitty soap opera playing on the TV.

My eyes were on it, too, but my mind was only on one particular person.

Asher.

Where was he? What was he doing? Was he at school, facing all the people I was too scared to face today? Would he be pissed when he found out I'd skipped school?

Fuck.

I was such a coward.

I'd chided myself so much since coming back to my house with Jenson.

Should I have just gone to school and faced the music? The judgements? The looks? The comments?

If I had, I would have seen Asher. I would have had the chance to explain myself to him and to hear him out.

Why the fuck did I skip? What was my reason?

I glanced over at my best friend sitting next to me on the sofa.

Oh yeah, there was my reason.

My best friend agreed to skip with me. Though, he didn't need much convincing.

If he'd carried on forcing me to go to school like he had been doing, would I still have gone in?

Yeah, I'd be a nervous wreck, but surely I would have gotten over it. Right?

I sighed, rested my head back against the sofa and stared at the white ceiling, watching as the light from the window cast soft shadows across it.

"You know," Jenson muttered. "This show is so shit that it's actually good." He nudged my arm.

I shook my head, not really wanting to watch it.

I heard him let out a sigh and shuffle in his seat. From the corner of my eye, I could see that he was sitting on the sofa facing me, his long legs tucked under his ass.

"Ollie," he said softly. "Let's talk."

"I talked last night." I did. I talked. And cried. And shouted. And now I was all talked out.

"Okay, let me rephrase that." Jenson leaned over and dropped the bag of chips on the coffee table. "Let me talk."

I shrugged.

"I ... uh ..." He blew out a breath. "Fuck."

I turned my head to watch as he scratched the back of his head, looking sheepishly at me. "I don't know how you fucking did it." I stared at him, confusion flooding my mind. He shrugged. "Came out, I mean. How the fuck did you do it?"

It was my turn to shrug. "It just happened, I guess."

"And your dad was cool with it?"

I nodded. My dad was cool. I'd go so far as to say my dad was the coolest, but his dancing let him down.

"Think my dad would be cool with it?"

"Cool with me being gay?" The fuck?

"Nah, idiot." He poked my leg. "Cool with me being gay."

My jaw dropped as I whipped my head around. He turned his own away from me, his eyes focused on the coffee table.

"Wh ..." I blinked a couple of times. "What?"

He shrugged, keeping his eyes down. "What do you think my dad would say?" He repeated, scratching the back of his head again.

I ... didn't know. "Are you fucking joking with me right now?" Because I wasn't in the mood if he was.