The Oakley Plan (Troyler AU) // ON HOLD

chaptah 5

I kept myself up way too late imagining I was on one of those bachelorette television shows (but, you know, all gay and stuff), with a panel of guys that included Tyler, Caspar, and the only other gay guy at my school, Korey. The guys in the audience, (all, you know, gay and stuff), shook pom-poms and signs, screaming, "CASPAR" and "CASPAR I LOVE YOU!" and "CASPAR I WISH I COULD HAVE YOUR BABIES!"

I sat in a tall director's chair wearing a very attractive button-up shirt and a pair of Converse, with an offstage fan providing a perpetual windswept look. Tyler gazed at me with pleading eyes. Korey played a chess app on his phone.

"Who is the lucky bachelor going to be?" the announcer guy asked.

"I choose-"

"CASPAR!" two hundred audience members screamed in unison.

"Tyler," I declared.

Caspar's head hung in despair. Korey picked at something on his chin. Tyler, meanwhile, leapt off his chair and ran to me, sweeping me into his arms, twirling. My loose Converse flew off into the audience . . .

It's amazing I got any sleep at all.

In the shower, I lather, rinse, repeat and consider my options. If Zoe is right, I could most certainly get on with Caspar. Me, Troye Mellet, turning the hottest guy in school gay. But when I think about Caspar, I don't get the feeling I get when I think about Tyler. And it's only intensified with an entire night of obsessing over him.

The hot water helps me think. Tyler is the new guy at school. He just might top everyone's hottie list. He may even be a hotter commodity than Caspar. I picture his great face and body for the millionth time in my head.

I'll bet he's an excellent kisser.

Post-shower, I finally settle on the button-up from my fantasies, skinny jeans, and some red vans. It's an outfit that says, "Hello world; I'm fun, hot, and gay!" I grab a Nutella-To-Go and a bottle of Sunny-D, (cause you know I likes the D), and glance at the clock. I'll be plenty early, which is good, because Zoe will be waiting for me in the commons with her first-day latte. And I want to scope for Tyler. Being new to the school, I'm sure he'd be glad for someone to show him around.

Tyler. He was so easy to talk to. My goal for today? To discover whether he was gay, and if not, to convert him with my charming and sexy personality.

I toss my book bag into backseat of the Honda and rub a couple of soccer ball-shaped dust marks off the passenger door. I brush some pollen from the windshield and shine the driver's side mirror. For my first day driving to school I want my car to look perfect.

Halfway to school I spot a guy up ahead in maroon jeans and a floral light-weight sweater. Instead of a backpack he's carrying one of those over-the-shoulder courier bags. He's wearing a familiar pair of Vans. . .

Tyler.

My heart chases itself in circles inside my chest. I glance in the rearview mirror and wipe a sleep off my eyelid, adjust my quiff in the mirror. Readjust. Readjust again. I can't believe there are still five months and eleven days until I'm sixteen and a half and can offer him a ride! But I can at least pull over and say hi. As I get close, I press down on the clutch to disengage as I ease on the brakes. But instead of the brake I accidentally push the gas pedal to the floor, gunning the engine. Tyler jumps, then jerks around. He looks terrified.

I consider racing away, but pull forward and roll down the passenger side window instead.

Tyler peers in and his look of concern breaks into a smile, dimples and all. "It's you! I should have recognized the car."

His hair is still damp and his eyes have that just-woken-up look- sleepy, but fresh, and bright. He rests his hand in the open window frame and giggles a little. That laugh. That FREAKING LAUGH.

"Sorry about the noisy approach," I say through a pained smile.

I look at him standing there looking at me, the pinks in his shirt accenting his summer-kissed skin, and I think, how bad would it be if I got caught giving him a ride? I mean, the worst-case scenario for first-time offenders is that you're stuck with the passenger-and-nighttime-driving restrictions until you're eighteen instead of them ending when you're sixteen and a half.

Wait. Who am I kidding? That would totally suck! My dream of daily excursions to Sally Serves would be put on hold for way too long. I might not even like ice cream by the time I'm eighteen. No. There is no way I can give him a ride.

But I think about how he twirled me in his arms on the gay reality TV show, my Converse soaring into the crowd-

"Want a ride?"

"Sure!" He climbs in and drops his bag on the floor at his feet. "Thanks for stopping. I'm glad I didn't ride my bicycle today."

"No problem!" So he rides a bike. That would explain the awesome calves.

He settles in to face me. "Wow! Pickup soccer games, rides to school- pretty friendly neighborhood."

I remind myself to breathe.

"Friendly," I finally say, grinning like a crazy person. Oh my god, really, Troye? Is that the best you can do?

Tyler laughs that hot-ass laugh of his. "Friendlier than my old neighborhood, that's for sure."

Breathe, Troye. Breathe! Conversate him! "Soo... where'd you move from?"

"San Francisco," he says.

"Hmmm," I say. "Never heard of it." I mean it as a joke, of course. Like who hasn't heard of San Fran?

Tyler cocks his head. He twiddles with the sleeve of his sweater. "You're kidding, right?"

I force a laugh. "Of course!" And I am rapidly losing confidence.

"Nice car," he speaks up. "Is it yours?"

"It is now. It's kind of a hand-me-down from my bro. He bought it off Craigslist when he turned sixteen."

He considers. "Not your brother Tyde, I take it?"

I hesitate, searching my surroundings for any police officers who could potentially ruin my whole life. "Yeah. My brother Steele is away at school."

Tyler nods. "I can't wait to have my own car. But I don't have any sibs, so there are no hand-me-downs coming my way."

We finally pull into the parking lot, and I park the car and twist out the keys, turning off the engine.

BAM BAM. BAM BAM BAM. BAM BAM BAM.

Tyler and I share a terrified glance. What the hell? Someone is pounding on the roof of my car.

"Troye!" Caspar pokes his face, his neck- every portion if his upper torso that will fit through my car window. He grins and reaches to give my horn a couple of short blasts. "You heading in?"

"Um." I look at Tyler. It's like Caspar doesn't even see him sitting there. Tyler grabs his bag off the floor and slips it over his chest. A flicker of a forced smile forms across his lips. "Well, thanks for the ride. I'll see you later." He glances at Caspar and can't get out of the car fast enough. He's gone before I can even say good-bye.

As Caspar and I make our way across the parking lot, I watch Tyler, way ahead of us, as he enters the school. How did I manage to mess up what started so perfectly yesterday? The bigger question- how do I fix it?!

A/N: Hi.