My sister is the same, always petting me like a poodle.
If I shoved my hands on some girl, I sure as hell would hear their complaints of sexual harassment.
“There’s the mad scientist, thought you’d be here.”
I’m in the lab most mornings, so it’s no massive shock.
“What’s up, Chelsea?”
“Well…” her eyes drift down to my lap and then she grins, “not you. We can fix that so easily, Sage.”
Yeah, there’s her one-woman campaign to straighten me out. That will not happen, and she knows it.
But it hasn’t stopped her from trying.
She’s harmless, if not a little forward, and like I said, she makes me laugh sometimes.
“How about we get out of here and hang out in my car?”
“For what reason?”
Oh, I know why. I play dumb in hopes she catches the message.
I don’t want to be cruel. Chelsea is one of the few people I kind of like.
She’s not a dick, or part of the crowd who believes they are school royalty. I feel sorry for her in a way. And that comes from a school outsider who never tries to fit in. People gravitate toward me anyway. I’m still trying to figure out why, because I’m nothing like Theo or Lachlan.
I reckon I’m catching their popular fumes or something.
Did I mention my therapist once called me apathetic? That doesn’t say spotlight guy at all.
“We could make out.”
She’s up front, I’ll give her that.
I rise from the stool, pack my notebooks away. If I ever lost them I’d lose my fucking mind because they have my entire life in them.
“There’s a flaw in that plan, Chelsea, seeing as how I like men.”
She tuts and shoves out her hip.
She’s all fluffy hair and pouty lips. Any guy would be lucky to bang her brains out, to lose a few hours in her lovely round body, but my dick isn’t reacting.
Not even a flicker of interest.
She’s dry bread to my hormones and nothing is changing that.
I’ve known forever that I’m gay, as gay can be. This isn’t breaking news to anyone who knows me.
I forced a boy to hold my hand in third grade and cried my eyes out to mom when he didn’t want to be my friend. The moment I knew what attraction was, it’s always been toward guys. I never had that confused moment where I dated a shit ton of girls in hopes of “fixing” myself. I like guys, beginning and end.
“Give me ten… fifteen minutes tops, Sage, I bet I can change your mind.”
“It’s not my mind you want to change, but me and my dick have to decline.”
Sighing, Chelsea folds her body over the desk.
Again, it’s a subtle sexual pose that any other guy my age would lose his shit over and want to mount her.
“How do you know you’re not into girls, if you haven’t ever tried one?”
Ah, the old age question.
She’s funny and I lean over the desk, almost nose to nose with her.
I see her eyes haze over with lust.
She’s into me. But that’s not my problem. I’ve never led her on. She was friend-zoned by default.
I came to this school with a boyfriend. It didn’t last long, but everyone got my gay memo.
“Sweetheart, I’ve never thrown myself out of a plane, but I can say hand on my heart that it’s something I wouldn’t enjoy either.”
“Are you comparing me to skydiving?”
“I’m sure for some the thrill will be exhilarating.” I deadpan and she bursts out laughing.
“One day you’ll change your mind.”
She’s wrong. Chelsea will be disappointed if she’s holding onto some misguided hope that I’ll switch teams for her magical pussy.
I’d rather eat an actual dead cat. No offense to women, it’s how it is.
In the hallway, she hooks her arm through mine. I don’t enjoy tactile people, but I tolerate it.
It’s when I snag sight of inky black hair, towering above his court of jesters, that my stomach bottoms out. His gray eyes catch me staring at him.
They’re full of scorn as his lip curls when his glare glides to Chelsea’s arm through mine.
I’m rarely surprised, but every time we look at each other it hits me. An alertness in my stomach and lower down. The shortness of air for a second before I regulate my breathing again.
Every single time. I hate knowing he’s the one who plugs me into the electrical current.
This fucking Neanderthal who hates me.
Every time someone speaks his name around me, as if talking about a man-god on earth, I remember how our bodies felt for those few seconds of collision.
The sight of him is like the first time all over again and gives my heart a good old kick.
He can lie all he wants and hide behind his fake life.
He can torment me until forever, and I’d still know his truth.
He experienced something that day too.
He’s the one I’d change my mind for.
And it makes me dumb as shit.
I break our gazes and carry on.
Finn Maverick is nothing but a glorified bully.
He’s nothing to me.
Except, the man my attraction awakens for.
C H A P T E R 2
Sage
When a hand lands on my shoulder, I imagine it’s Finn and my stomach bottoms out.
He’s left me alone for a few days, a rarity. There’s a routine to his annoyance when he seeks me out for his trivial prank shit.
It started as petty shit, something kids in middle school would do. Mostly verbal attacks. Just my presence angered him. Then he hid my things, messed with my locker. One day my car keys disappeared out of my bag. On the verge of a meltdown, about to call my dad about my stolen car, king jackass swaggered by with a smirk and asked if I’d lost something. Realization slammed into me.
Hours later, I found my car three blocks away outside of a sex clinic.
He wanted me to know how easy he was able to screw up my entire day.
It’s not Finn though as I turn around.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Lachlan half grins, straddling the cafeteria bench. He steals half of my sandwich. “What’s up, bro?”
“Nothing much. Didn’t think you’d be in today; isn’t it skip week for seniors?”
It’s the reason I suppose why Finn hasn’t messed with me.
“There’s something more appealing here for me,” he says with a cocky grin, and I laugh. “Oh, yeah? Who is she?” It’s always a girl with Lachlan. They hang around the gates at home like brainwashed pigeons.
“Ah, you’ll know soon enough, Sage. I gotta head off in a minute.” He says once he’s finished my cookie with two big bites. “We’re gonna hang in a few days? Thought we could go do laser tag.”
I love my brother, but we don’t hang out much. Unless it’s a family thing. I know he’s attempting to do brother bonding with me because he’s leaving for Boston this summer. “Sure, if you don’t mind getting creamed.” I gloat and he laughs, climbing to his feet.
“Gotta go see my girl, catch you at home, Sage.”
“Try not to mess with a teacher this late in the semester, you’re almost out the door.” I joke. Not even Lachlan would go there.