Free Me (bxb)

Part 13

Griffin's shyness around Conal Macrae has not ebbed away in the least over the last two weeks. He never avoided Conal, at least not to the point of turning and walking in the opposite direction in the hallway if he saw him coming. But he never deliberately searched him out in the crowded hallways or lunchroom even though he does like seeing him and talking to him. 

It's a complicated set of feelings and Griffin still doesn't know how to explain them, even to himself. He thinks it's something like a crush, but it couldn't possibly be a crush because in order for these feelings to be a crush, he had to like Conal more than a friend and that would mean he liked all boys and he was gay. Griffin wasn't gay he was just- he just wasn't interested in girls and still thought guys were cooler to hang around. That was all. Conal was just somebody cool that he wanted to hang out with more.

His avoiding-but-not-avoiding plan goes well for those two weeks until he's forced to ride the bus home one afternoon. His dad has to go to Poughkeepsie for some kind of farm part he needs, and since he can't ride his bike home because of his cast, Griffin is forced to take the stupid old bus home that still doesn't have an AC installed because Red Hook Middle School is cheap.

He climbs onto the bus and picks a seat farther in the back that is unoccupied, and he sits there as comfortably as he can with his shirt sticking to his back from sweat and his broken arm itching crazily underneath his unbearably hot cast. Then, he spots Conal walking down the tiny isle of the bus and before he sits in the seat right in front of Griffin he lifts his chin in an upwards nod of greeting in Griffin's direction. Griffin waves back awkwardly, and can feel the stupid fluttering in his stomach again from something as little and insignificant as a nod. Griffin looks out his grimy window to distract himself.

Halfway through the bus ride, Griffin forgets about Conal's presence for the most part until he catches movement from the corner of his eye. He looks towards the movement by reflex, and regrets it almost as soon as he does. Conal is still sitting in front of him and pulling his shirt off over his head, leaving his dark brown hair a mess on his head. He's still wearing a white tank top, but Griffin is almost positive Conal being completely shirtless would have been less distracting.

The white cotton of the tank top contrasts with the darkness of his complexion, and the sweat glistening on his shoulders. He follows the trail of sweat that rolls across Conal's dark skin until it disappears from his field of vision behind the torn up seat. When he lifts his gaze again, Conal is rolling his shoulders and his gaze fixes to the prominent muscles on Conal's shoulder blades, and Griffin wonders what they might feel like beneath his touch or his tongue. 

Then, with a wrenching quiet gasp, Griffin tears his eyes away and concentrates on the rolling fields and wonders what the hell is happening to him. Never in his life before had he stared at someone so intently and- and lustfully. Griffin had never had those kinds of thoughts before in his life, but they were suddenly awoken by Conal Macrae, a guy, who was just understandably trying to escape the overbearing heat. He wasn't doing anything wrong or sexual about it, but still, Griffin had been looking and thinking about him as if he was giving him some kind of show.

Griffin keeps his gaze locked firmly outside, even when he catches the slightest of movements from the corner of his eye and is tempted to turn around and look again. But, he doesn't because he needs to keep whatever feelings and thoughts he'd just let escape his careful hold. He needs to keep those emotions and feelings buried deep within himself. He can't afford to let them out and think the way he just did. He can't afford to be different, he can't be that guy who likes other boys. So he won't be that guy, nobody wants him to be that guy.

When the bus stops in front of his house, Griffin gets off without looking or saying anything to Conal. If he were to turn around and look he's not so sure he'll be able to keep his thoughts under control, especially since he's going home to an empty house and no one to catch him. He goes straight to the AC unit when he gets inside, cranks it up as if that will abate the heat burning just beneath his skin. He goes upstairs to his bedroom after he has the air-conditioning set and takes out his homework in the pretense of being normal. In any other situation riding would clear his head, but with his cast he can't do the one thing he desperately needs right now.

"Dammit," he groans, sitting on his desk chair with defeat, putting his head in his hands. "This can't be happening. I'm not- I can't-" He takes a deep breath and looks around his room desperately for something to drown out his panicked thoughts. He reaches for the television remote on his bed, but before he presses the power button he rethinks if TV would really help. It's hardly distracting on the best of days, and it isn't nearly enough to douse the screaming thoughts inside his head. But- but music turned up loud enough might.

Griffin opens one of the drawers of his desk jerkily to pull out his earbuds and his MP3 Player. He shoves the earbuds into his ears and lies down on his twin sized bed, turning up his music as much as he can and closing his eyes, letting the music do its job in drowning out the thoughts.