Being gay is a curse when the homophobia you grew up with was so bad that you're homophobic yourself. Especially when you're into unavailable guys like your roommate, whose girlfriend is everything you're not (though appearances can be deceiving). S...
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Nate never did tell me why he wasn't interested.
He just got on the bus with a wry smile and left me there at the bus stop. I'll admit that I was still curious to know what was going on inside his head, but I knew that I should stop trying. I didn't want to come across as obnoxious. I sat down on the bench at the bus stop as I watched the bus drive away and then reached into the pocket of my coat to grab my phone and call Jamie. When he picked up, he asked, "Hey, where'd you guys go?"
"Nate went home. I tried to accompany him, but he was—"
"What do you mean, accompany him? Did you try to hook up with him?!"
"Yes, I tried to get in his pants," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Of course I didn't try to hook with him, you idiot. I just wanted to walk him home and ask if he wanted to hang out sometime. You know, hanging out as in talking? Without sex? Ever heard of that, Jamie?"
"Shut up," he grumbled.
"Anyway, I'm outside, by the bus station, so get your ass over here."
"Alright, I'm coming."
Five minutes later, when I finally saw him walking up to me from across the street, my ass was practically frozen stuck to the bench. We'd better get home soon, because the cold was getting unbearable. I'd zipped up my coat and flipped the collar up to shield my neck from the icy wind, but none of that really helped anymore at this point.
"So he rejected you, huh?" Jamie asked.
"Yeah, well, I'm not that surprised, to be honest," I said, getting up from the bench and shaking my legs about to warm them up a bit. "He seems to be a bit anxious."
"Maybe he is."
"Maybe he is," I agreed. "Or maybe I'm just not his type. Anyway, it was worth a try."
"Maybe that guy at the bar is his type. I saw them talking before we got there."
"The blond? That's Carl. He's friends with the bartender."
He squinted his eyes at me. "Why do I get the feeling that that's not the only reason why you know him?"
"Almost, Jamie," I said, grinning. "Almost. Not the biggest fan of hook-ups, that one."
"You seriously need to get laid."
"Yeah, I'm trying! You down?"
"Let's not."
"I was kidding," I laughed. Mostly.
"Just out of curiosity," he said, peering up at the sign by the bus stop to look for the estimated time of arrival. "How many guys have you slept with?"
