Bathroom (Max x Bradley) - Maxley

CHAPTER 8

"What? Of course not! How did you even come to this conclusion?" I asked Mocha, dumbfounded.

"Well, for starters, you didn't pay any attention to your date at all." "That is not true!" "Oh yeah? What is her name then?" she asked. I stayed silent, not knowing the answer, and therefore proving her point. "You also didn't ask for her number, so there wouldn't be any second date, but when she walked in, your eyes lingered on her, which means you could appreciate her beauty. So, you are not completely gay. At this point, I only thought she wasn't your type and I was ready to leave it at that, but then I saw you looking at him. And not once. You have kept on searching for him in the crowd, glaring at all the girls who he danced with. I must say, there were numerous-" "Seven. He danced with seven girls," I interrupted her, not helping my case.

She only raised her eyebrow, signaling she already made her point. But I remained silent, not answering her previous question, not knowing the answer, and not wanting to face the consequences that were paired with the answers.

We sat there in silence, her staring at me, waiting for an answer, and me, trying to come up with one.

"We are not a thing," I said finally. "But?" "But-... I might feel... something? I don't know. I almost killed myself because of him today, yet I am concerned about who he dances with. At night, I dream about him, and my nightmares consist of him crying and me not being able to help him and- Oh," I stopped myself, the answer now clear to me. " 'Oh' is correct."

My face turned red and I hid it behind my hands, embarrassed about my feelings that were so obvious, that a total stranger noticed them before myself. She gently put my hands down, smiling at me.

"You have nothing to worry about. I will not tell anyone. But don't be so obvious about it or everyone will know without even me telling them."

"But- How- I dated before. A girl. How can I feel the same- for a guy- him?" I was confused, spewing bullshit and nonsense. She just explained the whole sexuality thing to me. Wow. It seems I might be bisexual period now that I think about it, it makes a lot of sense, but still. This is some big news. How will my father react? My friends? Will they be disgusted? Scared? Will they accept me? I had so many questions and worries.

Mocha seemed to see that and only patted me on my shoulder. "Don't worry, everything will become more clear in the future. For now, it can be our little secret. Here, have my number. You can always text me or call me for advice, or if you just want to talk," she said, handing me a piece of paper with her number written on it. I pulled out my phone, typed in her number, and sent her a quick message, telling her it was me.

After that, we returned to the table. Everyone was looking at us, waiting for some kind of explanation. I got scared, not knowing what to tell them, but Mocha saved me by saying: "I just felt like dancing with him, wanting to know more about his thoughts on Charlie. It doesn't look like a second date will be happening," she said, naturally.

The others didn't question it and moved on with their previous conversation. I sat down, my eyes being pulled into the crowd, searching for Bradley once again. I found him kissing some random girl he didn't even dance with. My stomach dropped, making it look quickly away. Mocha seemed to notice it as well, suggesting we call it a night, already getting up.

We all agreed it would make sense to go to sleep since we had school tomorrow. The memory of Bradley kissing that girl haunted me the whole time we were walking home, when I got ready for bed, and accompanied me by falling asleep.

Surprisingly, my dreams were infested with similar scenes like my first dream about him ever- the bathroom dream.

The next few weeks, I noticed that Bradley was in half of my classes. I also noticed that he was always prepared, never late, always paying attention, and sitting in the front row. A total nerd.

Somehow, I found it cute, and it was making me more motivated to have good grades, trying to keep up with the top student Bradley Uppercrust the third.

It seemed that my friends hadn't noticed anything about my latest obsession, so I left it at that. We skated more and practiced more, trying to be more and better prepared for the games than the last time. We made sure to practice at least two times a week.

I continued to visit the outdoor gym every time I had the chance, not only to keep up my form but also secretly hoping Bradley would be looking.

At some point I realized how much I was obsessed with him, it not being healthy anymore. And so I called Mocha. She advised me to focus on other things for some time, like getting an A for the next test or painting a picture. And I did that. It helped me not always think and dream about him. He still occupied my mind rent-free, but I could dream about other stuff finally and worked out without worrying about how I might look while doing it.

As I was working out on a Sunday morning. The big guy from Bradley's group came walking towards me. I put the earbuds out of my ears, studying the guy closely. He walked to me, stopping right in front of the place where I was lying down, doing my sit-ups.

"Can I help you?" I asked, after waiting for him to say something with no success. He remained silent, just grabbed me, and then, out of nowhere, punched me straight into my face. My head shot back, seeing stars. I got away quickly from his reach and held my now bloody nose. "Dude, what is your problem?! What did I do to you?" I wanted to know, whipping my hand on my tank top, which I really liked.

The guy didn't answer, just swung his arm again, aiming for my face. I ducked, thinking about my options. Hand-in-hand combat would be the death of me, so I should just run away. But the guy was standing between me and my stuff, forcing me to fight him. And so I did. I charged at him, going for his stomach.

He blocked me, and then returned the favour by punching me in my stomach. This back and forth continued, me getting some good blows on him, but mainly him punching me, until we were both out of breath.

I was holding my bloody nose while he was holding his side. Suddenly, his phone rang, and he answered it and left me standing there without saying another word. What was that about?

Bruised and in no condition to finish my workout, I grabbed my stuff and went back to the dorms, wondering what just happened.