The Vast Fields of Ordinary

Girls/Boys

"Did you hear about the Ross's?" My mother's friend, Debbie, asks, smirking.

Mom shakes her head, seeming confused, "The woman and her son that moved into that decrepit Victorian house beside mine?"

Debbie nods, the glint in her eyes making obvious her want to gossip about the new neighbors.

"That's them, Grace. Oh gosh, I heard that the boy has a juvenile record a mile long, that they're non-believers, and, oh, worst of all, Gracie, I heard the boy is--"

Debbie is cut off by her daughter, Mary, a short, pretty girl with long blond hair, "Mom, I have that appointment at Dr. Chakrabarty's office, remember?"

"Oh, dear, yes, " Debbie hugs my mother, promising to 'continue where she left off next time'.

______________-------__________-----______

I see him first through my bedroom window, which just so happens to look through to his.

He's tall and skinny, with creamy pale skin and sweepy mocha hair. His jeans are tighter than my sister's, framing his rear very well, and his shirt, welp, he's, uhm, he's not wearing one. He isn't particularly muscular, no, but he works it.

His head is down as he dances, air guitaring to some metal track that's shaking my window. I can't help my eyes sweeping his bare chest, studying the smattering of dark curls over his chest, trailing down to the thicker, darker patch that meanders past the waistband of those skin tight pants so tight I can see the outline of his dick, Lord, is that guy going commando? Oh that's h--

I literally slap that thought away. My cheek burns from the contact. What the h-e-double-hockey-sticks am I thinking? Boys aren't hot. They're boys. Only girls can be attractive to me, I mean, I'm a boy myself, how weird would it be if two boys were together? I seem to recall someone in church telling me boys dating other boys or girls dating other girls is a sin. Like a really bad one that's supposed to be punishable by death and a straight shot to the devil's domain.

The neighbor boy looks up then, his honey eyes meeting mine. My face heats up, as I've been caught staring. The boy laughs to himself, before shooting me a wink, blowing a kiss, and then turning away, swaying his hips like a showgirl.

Heylo my little tacos ^+^ EJ here Another addition to my line of fics! (Shameless self promotion: Go read A Friday night like this, selfish machines, I'll be the fire that'll catch you, and whatever else I post bc racecar Yolo Idk just please it'd be cool) This idea, like most of my ideas, came to me on a bus full of psychotic marching band kids. I know where I wanna go with the plot, but ideas and comments are entirely welcomed. I love constructive criticism bc I think I'm terrible so I constantly want to improve.

The greatest part of achieving is believing, as my band director's wife says, so i will go as far as I can with this.

Love, celebration, and clarinets,

PoorGroomsBrideIsADoor