So there's this guy... - 1. The boy through the window.

So there's this guy. This guy lives in the house next to mine and sometimes I see him hanging out in his backyard, swimming in the pool, reading a book – normal stuff. But yesterday was different. Yesterday I was doing some homework at my desk and, searching for something (anything) to look at that wasn’t calculus, I glanced up through the window. He was out there, like usual, but that day it wasn't just him. There was another person, a guy I had never seen before and I don't know why but I stopped what I was doing to watch them. They were out there, sitting next to the pool and they were being very friendly. Like very friendly. The one guy, the new one, kept touching my neighbor – on his neck, his hair, his chest – and he was smiling and leaning in and... they kiss. I feel strange and pervy watching all this from my window but I don't stop. The kissing, slow and soft at first, changes pace getting faster and more intense. My neighbor runs his hands through the long, dirty blond hair falling around the other boys face. I watch that hand, helplessly incapable of taking my eyes off it. It trails down the blonde boy's back, lower, lower, till it reaches the waistband of his shorts. Then it slides around, following the elastic band around till it goes in between the two boys. The shorts slide down, only a little, revealing only the first hints of the smooth roundness beneath. I can't see what is happening in the space between the boys from my window vantage, but I can guess from the way the blonde one throws his head back. I can feel my heart pounding as my breath fogs the window.

Suddenly a knock at my door startles me out of my strange reverie. I jump and spin my desk chair around to face the door. “Yeah?” I say, too loud.

My Mom opens the door and walks into the room “It's just me. I'm about to put in a load of laundry, did you have anything you wanted me to wash? Hey, why's the window all foggy?”

“I... uh. No idea. I didn't even notice. I don't have any clothes, thank you.”

“Huh. Ok. Dinner's in thirty minutes.” She walks out, not bothering to close the door. I scoot my chair over and close it, then return to the window. The boys are gone, but the blonde ones swim shorts are still lying there, on the deck chair where they had been sitting.

I lean my head against the window and let out a heavy breath. What was that? God I'm such a perv. I'm also very, very hard. Who even am I? I mean, I knew my interest in the boy next door was a little more than casual but whatever that was, it was not what I had been expecting. That blonde, he just looked so... into it. In a way I had never seen before. Sure I've seen sex before, you know online and stuff, but those guys and girls had never seemed so... real. Jesus. I think I might be into guys at least a little bit. I like girls, I know I like girls, but that blonde... ok. New information about myself. I can deal. Speaking of dealing, I've got a little problem between my legs that needs dealing with. I'll think about it later, preferably when I can actually think about something that isn't the look on that boy's face when he threw his head back. So... never I guess. God, I'm screwed.

The next day I'm hanging with my friend, Ian, in the cafeteria at school. I'm in the middle of a bite of below-standard spaghetti when I see the blonde. He's sitting at a table two rows down, surrounded by a huge group of girls. He's laughing and smiling and this is the first time I've seen his face from this close and he's beautiful. Startlingly so. His eyes are this light, near gold shade of brown and he's wearing eye shadow, which is weird and gay and I shouldn't like it but I do. Every time I look at him I see him with his head thrown back and gasping and I feel like my lungs are too small and I can't get enough air.

Ian says something to me that I don't hear. So he says it louder and punches me in the side.

“Ow! What?”

“I said, what are you looking at?”

“Nothing. Shut up.”

“Ohhhhh. So it's a girl. Alright then. Which one? You know I'm gonna find out sooner or later.”

“It's not a girl. It's nothing.” Most certainly not a girl.

“You're looking at nothing pretty hard there.”

“I... well... never mind.”

“Come on, what is it?”

I look away.

“Dude, if something's wrong...” He trails off. He's worried now. I hate how he can always tell when something's wrong. I love it too, of course, but I hate it.

“Well... I... wasn't looking at the girls.”

“Oh. Ok. Then what is it that's got you so messed up?”

“I wasn't looking at the girls because...”

A weird glint comes into his eye, like a sort of knowing. “You were looking at the guy?” he finishes.

“I... what?”

“Dude, it's not that surprising.”

“It's not?”

“No. You think that's the first time I've caught you ogling some dude? You aren't subtle about it.”

“What? You knew the whole time?”

“Duh. We've only know each other since kindergarten, stupid.”

“I know but, like, I didn't even know.”

“Just because you're too blind to see the obvious doesn't mean the rest of us are.”

“Shut up” I punch him in the shoulder.

He looks over in the direction that I had been staring. “He's cute, if you're into that sort of thing.”

I can actually feel myself blushing. Like a little goddamn girl.

The bell suddenly rings, loud and sharp, shattering the moment. Ian and I say our goodbyes, or rather I say goodbye and he says “See ya queer” and gives me another punch on the shoulder. God I love that boy. No, not like that. Like he's the mean older brother I never knew I wanted. Whatever, that's not the point of this story. Nobody want's to hear about my platonic-best friend relationship. Back to the blonde.

I don't see him for another two weeks. I look everywhere, in classes, in the halls, in my neighbor's backyard. He's nowhere. I think it's weird how obsessed I've become with this boy who I've seen two times, and one of those times was me perving on him while he got a handjob from another guy. What even is this? I know it's stupid and I know it's weird but for whatever reason I just can't stop thinking about him. Ian keeps making fun of me for looking around for him. Says I look like a lost puppy. I know he's right. Not much I can do about that though. So I keep looking and I keep kicking myself for looking.

Then, just like that, there he is. Walking into my gym class almost out of nowhere. He catches the coaches attention (and mine as well). I do my best to eavesdrop on their conversation through the obnoxiously loud classic rock music our teacher is constantly playing. He’s transferring classes. Into my gym period. Wow. What are the odds that in a school of eight hundred students he would be transferring into my gym class? Has to be at least one in an infinity. Clearly it’s meant to be. Now all I have to do is figure out how to talk to him. Or, you know, at least show him that I exist. Why does there always have to be a catch with these things?

I tell Ian what happened after school. He is predictably bored and mildly rude. I love this about him because it is the same way he acts when I talk nonstop about girls I like. I am mildly obsessive. Over everything. I’m sure you haven’t noticed this about me, as I am very good at hiding it. (I’m lying in case you somehow can’t tell) Ian likes to call me Mien Kamph (I know, Hitler joke - how passe) because of how dull and repetitive I get over time. I can’t help it. I know because I’ve tried. Sometimes it actually physically hurts me to try and think about anything other than the thing that I’m obsessed over that week. Then I just forget about it, all at once. Like it never mattered in the first place. But now it’s been almost a month and I still can’t get that odd little stolen shard of somebody else’s personal porno out of my head. I’m stuck, and the only time I don’t think about it is when I’m thinking about the blonde boy.

“So, this guy transfered into your class right?”

“Yes. Obviously. I’ve only been talking about it for the last twenty minutes or so.”

“Trust me, I know. I’ve been timing how long it would take before you would notice that I haven’t said a word since you sat down. Hasn’t happened yet.” I make like I’m glaring at him, but I know it’s true. “So why don’t you just go talk to him?” he asks, ignoring my feeble attempt at being intimidating.

“Because that would be weird.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Weirder than spending your every waking minute thinking about some guy you’ve never met?”

Huh, well he’s got me there. “Well… no.”

“Ok then. Go talk to him. And stop fucking talking about it.”

“Fine, fine I’ll talk to him. No need to break out the eff bombs.”

“Have you been listening to yourself talk these last few weeks at all?”

I blink for a second. “... Fuck… I’ll go talk to him. Tomorrow. I promise.”

That was a lie. A big fat, Gilbert Grape’s mom of a lie. I did not talk to him tomorrow. I did not talk to him the next day. I am a worthless, spineless, nothing who breaks promises. I am now entirely certain that I would never have talked to him if he hadn’t have spoken to me first. But he did.

I was minding my own buisness, lifting weights during our free exercise period when out of nowhere he walks up behind me, reaches over and yanks out my left earbud. “Hey, why are you always staring at me?” he blurts.

I jump, almost dropping the heavy weight directly on my lap. “I’m… what? NO! I’m not… I’m just…” I stammer.

His face changes entirely, going from pissed to amused in an instant. “Oh… I get it. Dude, it’s ok. I just want you to know, I have a boyfriend already and am not currently in the market for a second.” He grins, then winks (actually winks! I didn’t even know people really did that!) at me.

“But I’m not-!” I shout-whisper, looking around. Nobody cares enough to even look in our direction, but I’m still nervous.

“I’m telling you it’s fine. Honestly, I think it’s cute. Little closet-case has a crush on me. Thing is, Darren won’t. Don’t let him see you ogling me or he’ll knock your block off. He’s the jealous type.”

Darren - my neighbor. Apparently the jealous type. Who knew? Also who says “knock your block off” in an unironic way?

“You’re cute. I’m sure there’s some guy out there who’ll go for you. It’s just not going to be me.”

Ouch. I think I just died a little bit inside. “Am I really that obvious?” I ask, giving up on any pretense of hetero-ness.

“Well, yeah. But we sorta know our own, if you know what I mean. A hetero couldn’t pick you out of a lineup of jehovah's witnesses, I’m sure.”

“Oh. Ok.” I’m not sure if that was a compliment or an insult. “Well… sorry if I bothered you.” I cast my eyes towards the floor.

“It’s ok. I won’t say I didn’t enjoy the attention.” He flashes me a blazing smile, hops to his feet, and waltzes back to his usual mat.

Wow. I can’t believe that happened. Jesus. Well there goes that weird little fantasy of mine. Guess living happily ever after with another guy’s boyfriend was a little too much to hope for, huh. I suppose I should have expected this. I mean, really, what was I looking to gain from this little obsession? Literally the first time I saw this guy he was actually in the process of banging another dude. I feel real creepy for watching all that. Not that I didn’t already, but it’s worst now. I’m gross. I’m a gross perv who watches people through windows. Ugh.

Naturally, I tell Ian what happened at lunch. He is amused. “Duuuude. You got shot down without even getting off the ground first.” He laughs, loudly.

I scowl at him, not quite as amused by the situation as he seemed to be. “You see, this is why I didn’t want to say anything. You always make fun of me.”

He rolls his eyes at me. “Please. Like you didn’t immediately come over here to tell me what happened. You love me, admit it.”

I sigh loudly, making my exasperation known to all. “I know.” I grumble. He’s right though. My first thought, after all that happened, was that I had to tell Ian. Now that I think of it, that’s always my first thought. I tell Ian everything. And he does the same. It’s how it’s always been between us. I look over at him for a second. He’s looking back at me and smiling with full teeth and I can see the chewed up food in his mouth. It’s somehow both gross and cute. All of the sudden I feel this weird rush in my chest, and for a second I almost feel dizzy. It passes quickly and I think nothing of it; it happens all the time when I’m hanging out with Ian.

And so the day goes on like it always does. After school, we walk home together, like usual. He talks the entire way home about nothing, but I don’t really pay attention. I’m still too busy thinking about the blonde who’s name I still don’t know and what he said to me this morning. Am I really that obvious? He said “we know our own” which is, I’m assuming, a reference to the acclaimed gaydar that I’ve heard so much about. But then, Ian knew and he’s the straightest guy I know. Plays all the sports and everything. Maybe it shows? I hope not.

We make it back to my house around five. He walks in like he lives there, waves at my mom, then immediately opens the fridge. “Hey! You’ve got some of that watermelon stuff!” He pulls out a big bowl of watermelon jello.

“Ugh. You know my mom makes that stuff just for you. I can’t stand it, and neither can my dad.”

“More for me then!” He grins then takes the whole bowl up the stairs to my room. I roll my eyes at him, then grab a spoon from the drawer. He always forgets to grab a spoon and if I don’t do it for him he’ll just eat with his hands and get my whole room sticky in the process. I follow him up, and when I hand him the spoon he just grins at me. And that’s when it happens.

Out of nowhere, he leans in and … mashes his nose into mine. “Ow!” I yip. “What was that for?”

He jumps back, almost spilling jello all over the place. “Oh, I um… sorry. I just thought…”

“You thought what?”

He sets the bowl on my desk, then turns back to me with a strange look in his eye. I’ve known him my entire life and I’ve only seen him look like this twice - once when I broke my arm on our rope swing at the lake and had to be carried away by an ambulance, and the only other time at his mom’s funeral three years ago. I’m worried now. “What’s happening? Are you ok?”

He looks almost in pain now. “It’s just… I… goddamn it I love you.”

Um… duh? “I love you too man. Of course I do. Are you ok?”

“No I love you. Like love love. And I just thought that since you were sorta interested in guys now then…”

I blink at him. Hard. Does he mean…? But he’s… no. He’s obviously not. I’ve never even thought about him like that. And I guess, before now he’s never been sure about me either. “Why didn’t you say anything before?”

He looks sheepish now. “It’s just, you were all obsessed with what's-his-name and it’s not something you just bring up over lunch or anything. Like, Hey, you gonna eat those peas? Also I’ve been in love with you my entire life and would really, really like to kiss you right now.”

There it is again - the blushing. God I’m annoying sometimes. He stares at me, silent now. He looks almost … scared. Stupid boy. “Me too.” I grin at him.

He looks confused now. “What?”

“I love you too.” Obviously. For the first time in my life I’m not the last person to know something. I grab him by the shirt and pull him to me and his kiss feels exactly like I thought it would. Not that I’ve thought about it or anything. When we break apart his smile could outshine the sun. “Wow.” He exhales.

I grin at him. “Yup”

He looks at me. “So… now what?”

“Now we do it again.” And so we do.