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- 05/01/2018
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
A Case Of Jitters - 1. Jitters
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Hands clammy; heart hammering irregularly, and a cold sweat on the horizon, I feverously contemplate while maintaining eye contact with my reflection in the mirror if this was indeed a safe idea. I mean, how will I know if I’m doing it correct… what if he laughs at me. God-forbid what’d happen if I trample all over his toes by mistake. I pray to god that I don’t get a boner. Forget it… let’s hope that that doesn’t happen and that my plan works.
I suppose I look good… are my clothes sitting right on my skeleton, I don’t know why although I feel uncomfortable. What if my feet forget to move, or my legs give out when he smiles at me while we're dancing or what if… what if my breath stinks fowl. I have brushed my teeth two times now, plus I can’t help but notice that I’ve chugged half a bottle of mouthwash down the drain. God, I wish my acne was gone like some rotten, except I guess I have to persevere. I reckon it could be worse if I forget to speak somehow.
Running my fingers through my hair, afresh. I carefully mold it back into place. I have a reputation to maintain; the boys need to notice that I’m taking a girl out. Except I’m not taking a girl out. What is more embarrassing is that my parents have harassed me for an entire hour about how adorably cute I look. If anything, I feel nauseated. Plenty of times they have said that my button up shirt suits me and that the chino combination makes me look handsome. I forbid them to mention such a thing if I ever bring the girl or… a boy home. Which will lead to an entirely new set of rules itself? My mom would begin by stating unequivocally that the bedroom door has to remain open if I have a girl in my bedroom. That is a terrifying concept, having a girl remarkably close to where I perform certain rituals. But a boy hmm…
Sigh… I am beginning to sweat; it's time to raise my arms up again so that the moist doesn’t build up. Why do humans have to endure such a yucky obligation in the first place, it makes you smell and what boy or girl would ever like that. I hope I don’t stink like a Chinese massage parlor with all the deodorant I’ve put on.
My nervous are bouncing around in my stomach, and my chest feels like a bazillion bricks have toppled there. It took a lot of courage and confidence to approach Andrew and ask him out, the only gay kid I know. Now that I think of it I could have learned to dance properly. I should have begged my mom for lessons on how to dance, even if it meant dropping karate for a while. I imagine I am going to suck at dancing, I’ll resemble a limp noodle, and that’s when he’ll snigger at me at how goofy I move. Is it wrong that I’m weighing the pros and cons of backing out? I’ll pretend that a crayon became lodged in my nose and that I had to go to the Emergency Room. I have an excuse prepared for when Andrew calls me up requesting; wanting to know where the hell was I. I don’t believe I have the heart to do that, however, to bail out on him, that would be horrible. He definitely wouldn’t want to be my boyfriend then if I did that on him. Thank god for Sophia pretending that she is going with me. The sad news is I have to make an appearance with her at some point.
Raising my arm to look at the cheesy addition of a watch on my wrist that my older brother gave to me for the occasion, I glanced at the face of the silver timekeeper and noted that it was 6:30 pm. The reception is at 7:30 pm and, I told Andrew that I’d meet him at our homeroom at 7. The watch is slightly heavier than I expected it to be. Each time I draw my attention back to the mirror, I can’t help but notice a new flaw every time I study. I surmise I’ll be paranoid by the end of the night if I don’t calm the hell down and take a moment to rationalize what I’m thinking.
Is my hair okay…? Again, lifting my hands, I tenderly brush my fingers at the sides of my haircut and restart the entire process of scouring for pimples and straighten my clothes. Since the coast is clear from the last time I checked, I grant a sigh of relief, and for insurance, I affirm that everything will be okay. I suspect that whatever happens will come down to faith because my dad just beckoned for me. Dad asked if I wanted to leave now.
Catching a breath of confidence, I split from the sink with the mirror and started for the door. Cracking the bathroom door ajar, I paused, glimpsed back at the mirror to examine if everything was okay one last time.
Mumbling to myself, I chant, “don’t act awkward, don’t act awkward, don’t act awkward….” And like that, I exit the bathroom; now in a panic for leaving the mirror behind. My family anticipates at the bottom of the stairs, waiting to see me off.
Slowly, with a buildup of rattled terror emanating from my ribcage, I descended the levels. I hugged my mom goodbye. She was all welled up with melancholy.
I stopped shy of my brother, he gave me a fist bump, accompanied by a wink, “have an awesome night little dude,” he said.
A bashful surge of cutesy tingles erupted in my heart, my face flooded red, and I began to sense arousal. ‘Not now… already!’ I rebuked. Shifting my attention to dad, I gave him an indicator that I was ready, and we strolled down the path, onto the drive, and pulled away. My parents don’t know, and I indeed for it to stay that way.
As we drove, droplets of translucent rain impacted the windscreen. I sat slumped in the front seat with a case of what you’d call jitters. Dad was too busy paying attention to the road. All I could come to concentrate on was that I hoped tonight would make Andrew like me more than just a friend. That is the reason I asked him out; he is quiet, a cute guy that nobody pays attention to. The smart, nerdy boy with a lovely personality. The only thing is that we have nothing in common. I am not even sure why he said yes, but I am glad that he did. Now all I have to do is sneak off for a bit with him; I updated my playlist on Spotify with some slow songs. It'll be the first time we've met face to face because I haven't personally talked to him. I slipped a note into his locker. Please don't let him think this was a joke.
With dad stopped at a traffic light, he took a moment to look over at me.
“Jacob, sit up, you’ll get creases in your clothes," dad said.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I shot into a stiffened position and held myself like that, so my threads didn’t appear scruffy. We are close to the school now.
Dad asked absently with his eyes remaining on the road, “you nervous?”
The car navigated the corner and a couple of yards down the street we pulled up outside a busy drop-off bay. I looked at him nervously, giving him expressive eyes. Dad’s must have sensed something is off because he began to lean across, and place his hand on my shoulder. I reverted my head to the dashboard.
Dad drew in a deep breath and then spoke sincerely, “you’ll be okay…”
I looked from him to the school through the window, and like that, I sat up straight, shimmied in the seat. ‘Girls like confident, I reflected. Perhaps if act like that. Reaching out I pulled the lever for the door, and like that, I stepped out. The school bustled with life; unusually compared to class hours.
I took a step, and then another from the car. With a sigh, I contemplated. I presume I’m on my own from here on out. I just need to make it to the door, then from the front entrance to my homeroom. I was surprised that Andrew didn’t want me to pick up. I sent him more than on note; independent I guess… My heart fluttered, and before I knew what was what, I was within arm’s length of the door.
Shuffling under the LED lights, I cautiously blended with my peers. I offered greetings and made my way to the designated meeting point. I turned into the corridor and beheld, Andrew, stood patiently outside the securely locked classroom. I hesitated; he looks so pretty, and with a rush of emotional determination, I closed the distance.
When I came face to face with him, he smiled. My mind went blanket, and I forgot my name. Andrew rattled slightly too, in a modest way, a case of the jitters also. That was until I remembered my name.
Like a blabbering idiot, I said, "I... I'm Jacob."
Andrew smirked, "wanna ditch and get a burger and milkshake."
I grinned, I liked the sound of that.
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