How to Get a Boyfriend (boyxboy)

Chapter Four

“Well I fucked that up right royally.”

Max shook his head.

“No, you just need to work on forming your past tenses.  Your accent’s great, better than mine.”

“Really?” I asked hopefully.  He nodded, making me smile happily.  “Well, that’s something, I guess.”

“What’s your next class?” he said after a moment.

“Erm…” I muttered articulately, as I fished in my blazer pocket for my timetable.  “Philosophy with the Rev. Royend.”

“Ah, the Rev. is a lad,” Max said appreciatively.

“I know, he’s a barrel of laughs and racist jokes,” I replied sarcastically.  Max laughed in his cute way and clapped me on the back as he turned off in to another classroom.

Philosophy was mostly the teacher telling us about a philosopher, then getting us to show him how crap their theory was.  I usually forgot to take notes, so I had to hope that all the facts somehow stuck inside my head somewhere.  Rev. Royend began the lesson with a faintly derogatory explanation of all our exam marks, which were surprisingly far from abysmal, but still not up to the Rev’s standards.

I was relieved when the bell signalling the end of the lesson finally went.  I wanted to find John and talk to him.  I figured that the best place would probably be the common room, so after packing up my stuff, I hurried there.

The common room was packed with upper and lower sixths, milling around, eating junk food and playing pool or table football.  Over in the ‘homework corner’ with several well-abused computers was John.  My heart lurched in a strange way at the sight of him.  Nevertheless, I forged a path through the crowds towards his seat.

He looked good.  Really good.  His hair was slightly longer, and tumbled over his brow in a very attractive manner, and his jaw was shaded with the short, bristly growth of a teenage beard.  I longed to run my hand over it, feel the texture of each hair, trace the smooth curves of his face.  I shook myself mentally and tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey John,” I said with a smile.

“Dane!” he cried, jumping up and clasping me in a hug.  At least that hadn’t changed.  Maybe there was some hope after all.

“How are you?  How was your holiday?” he fired questions at me like a machine gun.

“Fine, fine, how are you?” I replied, gently pulling out of the hug and gripping his shoulders in what I hoped was a friendly and casual manner.

“I’m all good, thanks.  You look good, by the way.  Nice tan.”

“Thanks man, took me ages to even it out, it looked like I was wearing a brown jumper for a day or two because my neck didn’t tan.”  He laughed and stroked the skin of my arm.

“Wish I went this colour, I’d love to have your skin.”

“Too bad, it’s not for sale,” I quipped, smirking.  John punched me softly in the shoulder in response.

“Hey, can I talk to you?  Alone, I mean,” I suddenly burst out.

“Yeah, sure.  Is something wrong?”

“No, no,” I said casually.  “Just wanna talk.  One of the geography rooms should be empty now, let’s go in there.”

John followed me out of the common room and through the school until we arrived at the geography room.  Thankfully, it was empty, so I opened the door, ushered John inside, followed him and locked the door behind me.

He looked at me expectantly.  “So what did you want to talk about?”

I took two steps across the room and swept him up in a hug.  We held that pose for a moment.

“I really missed you,” I whispered in his ear.  I let him go, and then darted in again, planting a small kiss on his right cheek.  “Thanks for that good luck kiss before my exam.  It really helped.”

“Sure, anytime,” he said, gazing at me curiously.  I took his hands earnestly.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?  No matter what, I’m here for you.  Thick, thin and everything in-between.”

“I know,” he whispered.  I drew him back in for another hug, softly kissing his forehead.  His hands stroked my back tenderly.

“Okay then, gotta go.  School work to be done, oh joy,” I said, breaking the mood and the embrace.  I unlocked the door and walked out.  I didn’t look back.

I avoided John for the rest of the day, deliberately hiding in the music rooms during lunch, messing around on the keyboards.  I did like playing music, but that wasn’t my primary aim.  I wanted to see how John would react to what I did and said earlier, after he’d time to let it sink in.  I decided I would talk to him tomorrow.

At the end of the day, I was already laden with several pieces of homework from various teachers, and I was not looking forward to them at all.  Despite me promising myself that I wouldn’t, I wanted to talk to John.  I wanted to be with him more than anything, even if it was just sitting side by side in silence.  It would be enough just to know that he was there, next to me.

The bus home was rammed with school kids, yammering away about their lives.  I tried to block it out, but I knew that I was going to upset Tony and Amelia if I ignored them all the way home.  I chatted to Tony about his day, while texting Amelia about hers.  She was the only person outside of my family that I had told that I was gay, since I knew she would be fine with it: she was bisexual herself.  Tony didn’t know as such, but he suspected, especially after I accidently sent a text to him that featured, as he put it, ‘closet talk’.  I hadn’t talked about it afterwards, but I knew that I’d have to come out to him soon.  I was sure he wouldn’t care about my sexuality, but I still felt apprehensive nonetheless.

When I finally arrived at home, I slung my bag in to its usual place in the front room, stripped off my blazer and tie and slumped on the sofa.  I should have gone and done my homework before I started watching telly, but I just didn’t have the mental focus to make myself do it.  I was still hung up on John, and even through the mind-numbing effects of television I thought of him constantly.  I slapped myself around the face, hard enough to bring colour to my cheeks.  Stop obsessing over him, I told myself harshly.  Que sera, sera.  What will be, will be.  You have to let him come to you.

Fuck off, I snapped back at myself.  I got up off the sofa and stumped upstairs, throwing myself onto my bed in frustration.  Just fuck off and leave me alone.