Bayside Queens (BoyxMan)

19.

19.

Quinn

Carter ignored me all day Thursday. I tried texting him, but he yelled at me for using my phone during school. I tried calling him that night, but he insisted he was too tired to talk and was heading to bed. At six. I debated sending him naked pictures just to get him to respond to me. When I told Val the idea, she slapped me with her Vogue magazine and told me naked pictures were only for desperate girls and boys who wanted sex. I told her, well, I am a boy who wants sex. She slapped me with the magazine again.

He had texted me this morning, though. It was a brief, to-the-point message about me staying over this weekend. He told me to walk over when he got out of work or even right after school if I wanted. He left a key underneath a planter near his apartment. I told him I would just meet him there around 6 when he got off, which is exactly where I was now, standing in front of his door, mustering up the courage to knock. For some reason I was nervous, like unusually nervous. I felt like he didn't want to see me, like I was a burden for him, like he only sent me the text this morning because he was a man of his word and already promised he was mine for the weekend.

I felt sick. So instead of knocking I pushed the door open, knowing CJ was home from the presence of his cruiser in the back lot. He never locked his door when he was home. Quickly I entered, closing the door slowly behind me, subconsciously hoping CJ was in the shower or in his office and wouldn't hear me come in. That way I could take a few more deep breaths and figure out why the hell my heart was beating so quickly.

But I wasn't so lucky. As soon as I turned around we were face-to-face; he was getting up from one of the chairs at the long island counter that separated the kitchen from the living room. He was still in his uniform. He blinked at me for a few moments, then put down the empty plate he was carrying.

"Hey," he said casually, as if he hadn't been ignoring me the past day.

"Hey," I responded in the same manner, letting my backpack slip off my shoulder and onto the ground next to the door. For the first time since I've known CJ, I felt uncomfortable in his presence. We both just stood there awkwardly, silently, leaving something, whatever that something was, unaddressed.

Carter cleared his throat, then took the five steps it took to get to me. He paused, then pulled me in for the most awkward hug I've ever experienced in my entire life. He didn't pull me into his chest; he barely even had his arms around me. When he pulled away, I stared at him. He looked away from me, obviously aware of how uncomfortable the past four minutes had been. He looked stiff and rigid and not at all like the relaxed Carter I know he is, especially around me.

He took a step back from me, scratching his head, blushing lightly. "Well, uh, should we order pizza then?"

He didn't even look at me when asking. He looked everywhere but me. And he didn't even wait for my answer, either. He just turned around and went to go grab his phone from the counter. I shook my head, absolutely in awe. Two days ago he came storming into my bedroom, furious at the thought of his trainee fucking me. Now he would barely even touch me himself? All I knew was that whatever was going on, I didn't want to get caught in the crossfire.

"No, I think I'm going to go home now," I told him, not even slightly kidding. I turned my back to him and reached down for my backpack. His heavy footfalls on the hard wood floors stopped.

"What? Why? Quinn," he whined, his hand suddenly on my shoulder, pulling me around to face him. It was the most intimate thing he had done all day.

"If you're going to act like this, quite frankly I don't want to be here," I told him, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Like what?" he asked me, his tone exasperated as if he had no clue what acting like "this" meant.