Captivated - 1. Captivated

The words rang in my ears.

I’m sorry.

How could he have done this?

Please don't be mad at me, I have to do this.

Of course I'm not mad, I think I love you.

I just wish I could have met you sooner.

So do I. If I had, maybe you wouldn’t feel this way.

Goodbye.

Like hell. I’m not letting go of you that easily.

He quite literally took my breath away. Standing there in the rain, his teeth chattering, and his arms hugging his slender frame so tightly I thought he might break a rib. I’d never seen anyone look quite so…mesmerizing before, and this was him soaked to the bone shivering like a newborn chihuahua. I could only imagine what he might look like on his best day. Then his eyes met mine, and the spark of connection was so engrossing that I could hardly breathe. Little did I know that this chance encounter on a rainy spring afternoon would change my life forever.

A crack of thunder sounded in the distance, jolting me out of my trance-like state. I looked up to the sky, past my red umbrella, toward where the sound had come from in an unconscious manner. As if I would see a huge explosion over there or something. I looked back toward the person who’d captivated me, and found him closing the distance between us. I snapped out of it, and moved to meet him half way.

We met in the middle of the parking lot, and I motioned for him to get under the umbrella. This is so unlike me. Usually, I’d be scared to death trying to interact with a boy this gorgeous. I’d stutter, and trip over my words until he was totally convinced I was an idiot. But something was different about this boy. As I looked into his dark brown eyes, I saw a vulnerability there that I'd only ever seen in my own eyes before.

“Hi…,” he squeaked, his voice catching in his throat. He cleared it, and tried again. “Thanks, I was getting pretty soaked.”

“Did you miss your ride, or something?” I asked him.

“No…” he said, looking at the ground. “She must have forgot.”

The way he looked at the moment nearly broke my heart. He looked so utterly defeated, and it made me think that he knew full well that whoever ‘she’ was, she didn’t forget to pick him up.

“Well, I’ve got a car, if you want a ride,” I asked him. His head shot up and he looked deep within my eyes, searching for something.

He was searching for any sign of malice. As if he didn’t quite trust my words, and the look in his eyes struck me as someone who didn’t have a lot of faith in people’s word.

After a few long moments, he said, “Thank you,” and we started walking toward my car.

My car is nothing spectacular, but it was mine. I’d never been a ‘car guy’, so big engines and flashy looks didn’t appeal to me in the least. When we got to my small red two-door, he waited patiently for me to unlock it. I had to use the key, as the remote that was supposed to be on my key chain broke off sometime over the past year. I waited for him to get settled before I moved to the driver side and got in, nearly dropping my keys as I fumbled with the lock.

I threw the umbrella in the back seat. “Let me turn on the heat,” I said. I turned it on, and in no time as I drove we were both toasty warm and on our way to drying off.

We’d been driving aimlessly for about an hour when I asked, “So, you have a name?”

“Yeah…” he whispered in response. I waited a full thirty seconds before turning to look at him. In retrospect, it was a dumb question, and you know what they say you get when you ask a stupid question.

He was staring out the passenger window, sniffling occasionally. He was watching the raindrops on the window as they made their journey down the glass, leaving behind the faintest trail of water. His hand reached up and his finger followed one of the drops.

I tore my eyes away from him just in time to see the stalled car in front of us and slam on the brakes. With the water on the ground, the tires hydroplaned for a second, but finally took hold of the road and skidded to a halt. Millimeters from the car.

My hands were white knuckled on the steering wheel, and I was breathing heavy. I glanced over and saw that his eyes were the size of saucers. He looked at me, and after a few moments of staring at me like I was insane, he started laughing.

It was a wonderful sound. Started off as a girlish giggle, but quickly blossomed into a full fledged hearty belly laugh. It was contagious, and soon I was rolling right with him.

A car blew its horn behind us, startling me. I looked up and saw that the car I’d nearly hit was gone, and we were blocking traffic. Still giggling, I pulled off and parked in the first lot I came to.

When we finally got ourselves under control, I looked back at him, and he reluctantly met my gaze.

“So what is your name?” I asked him.

He bit his bottom lip, and looked away, cheeks tinted red from embarrassment.

“What is it?” I asked, putting my hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently. He tensed up, but made no move to brush my hand off.

“I just…don't want you to hate me too,” he said quietly, nearly a whisper.

“Hey, I just met you, and I wouldn’t have given you a ride if I hated you,” I said. “Speaking of that, is there any specific destination you have in mind? We’ve been driving around aimlessly.”

He kind of shrugged in response.

“Home?” I suggested.

“No,” he said immediately. “Anywhere but there.”

“Okay then,” I said, beginning to feel frustrated. “My house it is. But we’re going to talk when we get there.”

He glanced back at me, “But what about…”

He trailed off, but I figured he was worried about privacy.

“My parents won't be home until later,” I told him. He nodded, and resumed staring at the water droplets.

We continued to drive in silence. The only sound to be heard was the sound of the heater, which was beginning to make the car a little too cozy for my taste, but he was still shivering occasionally. He sniffled every so often, but was otherwise silent as a shadow.

At about the halfway point to my house, he mumbled something.

“Huh?” I asked.

“Justin,” was all he said. I smiled to myself. A little progress was better than nothing.

“Tyler,” I said to him.

He nodded, and said, “I know.”

I turned to look at him, surprised he knew my name.

“You know me?” I asked.

He nodded, but didn’t elaborate. I could tell getting information was going to be like pulling teeth with him.

After another few minutes of deafening silence, I asked, “What’s your last name, Justin?”

His body tensed slightly, as if I was asking a question he knew I’d ask, but didn’t want to answer. He looked up at me, then back down to his lap.

“Reid,” he said.

“Oh,” I said, I know I’d heard the name before…”Oh!” I said, when it hit me.

Justin Reid. The nerdy kid who was outed after he was caught writing a guys name in his notebook and circling it with a heart.

My name.

He had a crush on me. How awkward is this?

“You can drop me off anywhere, I’ll walk from here,” he said, his eyes once again downcast.

I’d heard stories about the crap people put him through. He’d had just about every prank you can think of pulled on him. You’d be walking around school and here, ‘Did you hear what Thompson did to Reid last period?’ or ‘I can't believe that sissy just stood there and took it!’

I’ve never been ‘Mr Popularity’ myself, but I had my small circle of close friends. He didn’t have anyone. All of his friends dropped him like a bad habit when he was outed. No one wanted to be associated with the school’s biggest loser.

And I’m ashamed to admit, I’d avoided him too. After he was found writing my name, people jumped to the conclusion that we were boyfriends. I didn’t want to come out, so I made it a point to steer clear of him. It really wasn’t all that hard to accomplish, since I didn’t even know what he looked like. I was a year ahead of him, being a Junior while he was a Sophomore.

“So…uhh…if you just let me out here, I can walk home,” he said again when I hadn't responded.

“Huh?” I said brilliantly. “It’s pouring outside, I'm not making you walk.”

“Oh…well, I live the other direction, that way,” he pointed behind us.

“I thought we were going to my place?” I said. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

We pulled into my neighborhood, which like my car was nothing spectacular. Just an average community with average sized houses.

We pulled into my driveway, and I turned the car off. After a moment or two of silence, he said, “You aren’t taking me here to…hurt me, are you?”

My head snapped around. His eyes were big and frightened, his bottom lip was quivering.

“No, I’m not going to hurt you,” I said, as gently as possible. “Have I given you any reason not to trust me?”

“…No, but that hasn’t mattered to anyone else,” he said.

“Come on, let’s get inside,” I said.

We made a mad dash across the driveway for my front door, and after I dropped my keys twice, we were inside. Now I was as soaked as he was.

He looked over at me, and I gave him a smile and a shrug. The corner of his mouth twitched, as if it was trying to mold itself into a smile, but his self conscious nature was preventing it from happening.

“You want something to drink? I think we have coke, and some kind of juice, maybe grape,” I said, breaking the silence. I took off my shoes, and as I put mine on the mat next to the door, he did the same. “I think I can squeeze some water out of my shirt, too. Probably taste better than the tap water.”

A kind of half grin appeared on the left side of his mouth. It was really cute, and I had to stop myself from leaning over to kiss it. That might weird him out a little more than he already was.

“I’ll take some juice,” he said quietly.

I walked into the kitchen, and judging by the soft sound of footsteps he followed me. That, or there’s a ghost in the house. I hope it isn’t the latter, my proton-pack needs some work done on it.

I pulled open our old refrigerator, which was the ugliest color of orange you can imagine. Apparently it was made in the seventies. Never would have guessed. I mean, aren’t orange kitchen appliances all the rage?

I pulled out the White Grape juice, and set it on the counter. I then moved to the cabinet and got out two glasses, both with goofy kids movies logos on them. My mom had a collection of like three hundred of these. I poured the juice, and slid his “Chicken Little” glass over to him, and took a sip from my “The Incredibles” glass.

He looked at his glass, then at mine, and grinned a little bit. “You saying I have a little chicken?”

He caught me off guard, and I choked on the juice. I sputtered for a few seconds, and finally recovered.

“Well, mine’s Incredible,” I grinned.

He gave a small chuckle, and resumed his gloomy disposition. He was studying the glass in his small hand as if it held all of the answers.

Out of nowhere, he said, “I’m sorry.”

I raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“You know, what I did,” he elaborated. “The journal thing. I was stupid and careless, and it got you in trouble too.”

“Oh,” I said. “Well, no harm done really.”

He looked up at me, and gave me a look bordering on incredulous. In the light of the kitchen I noticed for the first time the faded bruises around his eyes, and the slightly swollen lip. My heart nearly broke for him again, and it was again an effort to fight the urge to kiss him. He looked like a lost puppy who’d been kicked by his master a few too many times.

“Is it true?” I asked without thinking. “Are you really…”

“Gay? Yeah,” he said, looking me in the eye. This was the single biggest act of courage I could ever remember seeing in my life. Before he answered, he took a deep breath, and puffed his chest out slightly, as if preparing for an attack. An attack, which I got the feeling came far too often. He looked me defiantly in the eyes, and confirmed it.

I grabbed his right arm, and before he had a chance to panic and pull away, I had him in my arms, hugging him fiercely.

“What are you…” he asked, his voice like a scared little boy. His posture was rigid, and he held his breath.

“You look like you needed a hug,” I responded simply.

After nearly a minute in my embrace, his rigid posture started to melt away. His arms reached around me, and he began to return my hug. He let his head rest on my shoulder, and I heard the faintest sob escape the back of his throat.

Soon, he was holding on for dear life, sobbing uncontrollably onto the fabric covering my shoulder. If it wasn’t soaked already from the rain, it surely would be now. My right hand traveled up and down his back, and I made soothing noises in his ear.

I don't know how long we held each other, but when his tears finally dried up, he pulled away to look into my eyes. I had let out a few tears of my own.

“Thank you,” he said.

I smiled, and said, “It’s what friends are for.”

“I don't have any friends,” he said sadly.

“Of course you do,” I said, with a look that said it should be obvious to him. “Me.”

He smiled, and for the first time this afternoon, I believe he was happy. It was a totally different look from the shy grins I’d seen before. Not even when we were laughing uncontrollably in the car had I seen such a contented look in his eye.

“Now, let’s go do something fun,” I said. Without waiting for him to reply, I took off in a run for my room. When he reached the door to my room, I threw a shirt at him from the closet. I giggled as it landed on his head, covering his face.

“You’re soaked, put that on,” I said. I pulled off my own soaked shirt, and rummaged around to find a clean one of my own. I pulled one out, and turned around to face him before pulling it on.

He was staring at my body as if it were the most delicious looking thing he’d ever seen. Personally, I never thought I was all that attractive. I thought I was too skinny, and my muscles weren't nearly defined enough. The only definition I really had was on my arms, but it wasn’t as if I was buff or anything, wiry would describe it more closely. I had the beginnings of a six-pack, but it only showed if I really tried to flex them.

I pulled my shirt on, and his eyes snapped to mine. When he realized he was busted, his cheeks flared crimson faster than I could blink. I grinned to let him know it was alright. He let out a breath, and pulled off his soaked shirt.

His body was less defined than mine was, and to be honest, he looked kind of girly. His arms had almost no definition at all, and his abs looked to be non-existent. In a word, he looked soft.

But it was the deep purple bruises and the welts that looked to be from a belt or strap of some kind that really caught my attention. A tear escaped my eye without me even realizing it.

He pulled the shirt over his head in a flash, and gave me a look that told me to keep my mouth shut. But I didn’t have to say anything. I had a pretty good idea what had happened.

He gave an awkward, embarrassed chuckle, and said, “So what’s this fun thing you want to do?”

I shook my head to clear it, snapping myself out of the daze I had fallen into it. I looked into his big green eyes, and nodded.

“Video–“ my voice caught. “Videogames?” I asked.

I fired up my game system, took a seat on my bed, and after sitting down next to me and telling me he doesn’t get to play games a whole lot, he proceeded to kick my ass in nearly every game I owned. For two hours, nothing mattered other than a friendly competition of ‘blow the other guy away as fast as possible’. And for those two hours, no problems existed. We were just two kids being kids, and I can honestly say it was the most fun I’d had in my whole life.

After getting annihilated for what had to be the fiftieth time, we stopped for a break. He looked deep into my eyes again, as if he was searching my soul.

“How come you’re different than everyone else?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I was simply trying to be his friend.

“You don't hate me,” he elaborated. “You don't want to hit me, or play tricks on me. You weren't even bothered by the fact that I'm gay, and that caused problems for you. I just want to know why.”

“I don't hate you because you’re one of the nicest guys I've ever met,” I said. “I don't want to hit you because I've never hit anyone in my life, especially not the nicest people I know. And as for the gay thing…”

I kissed him. Just a quick peck on the lips, and I pulled back to look into his eyes.

His eyes were blank, and his face completely expressionless. I think I broke him for a second, and he looked so adorable that I leaned in for a longer kiss.

It took him a minute, but finally he snapped out of it. He sharply inhaled through his nose, and began to kiss me back. I felt all tension drain out of his body, and his arms reached around my back, hugging me just as hard as before. His tongue slid into my mouth, and we battled fiercely for dominance, not unlike our competition in the videogame.

I leaned back on the bed, pulling him with me. He sighed contentedly without moving his lips from mine. We ground our crotches together, both of us caught up in the heat of the moment. I moaned softly, the feelings intensifying until I cared about little else. The pope could have walked in at that moment, and I wouldn’t have cared.

All of a sudden, he started breathing heavier. His body started shivering, and he spasmed a few times, moaning into my mouth. Then he was still, and he pulled away from me and averted his eyes. He was clearly embarrassed, and it wasn’t hard to figure out why.

I sat up and reached out for his hand. I pulled him gently and he looked at me. His cheeks were read, and his bottom lip quivered slightly.

“It’s alright, Justin,” I said.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to…” he started to say, but I cut him off.

“I’m not mad. In fact, I’m incredibly flattered,” I said.

After staring into my eyes and finding no lies in them, he smiled. He leaned over and started to kiss me again, boldly grabbing my crotch through my jeans.

All too soon, I heard the door to the garage open, and my mom was home. Justin jumped, and pulled away. He looked at the clock on my DVD player, and gasped.

“Shit! I’d better get home before I get in too much trouble,” he said. “I’m sorry I can't return the favor…”

“It’s okay, we’ll go say hi to my mom and I’ll take you home,” I said, with a smile.

Twenty minutes later, I was on the way back home after dropping him off at his house. When he reached his front door, he turned and gave me a shy little wave. He smiled, and went inside.

The next day, school was a blur. The weather finally cleared up sometime during the night, and a new wind had blown in. But my head was in the clouds the entire day. I couldn’t tell you a thing that was taught in any of my classes. Honestly I couldn’t have cared less.

I kept my eyes and ears open more than usual in the halls, hoping to catch a glimpse of Justin in the halls. By lunch, when I hadn't seen him at all, I'd just about given up hope. I planned on looking him up in the phone book and calling him when I got home.

After lunch, I walked back to my locker to get my book for my next class. I was running a little late, so when I opened the door and a note with girlish handwriting fell out, I stuffed it in my pocket. Girls were always putting notes in my locker, so it was nothing out of the ordinary.

A casual acquaintance of mine walked over to me, laughing to himself. He grabbed my arm, pulling me aside to talk to me.

“Dude, did you hear what happened in gym last period?” he asked.

“I don't have gym this year,” I said. “I’m kind of in a hurry.” I started to walk away.

He called after me, “You should have seen the look on that loser’s face!”

I stopped cold. I spun on my heel, and quickly moved back over to him.

“Who?” I asked in an icy voice.

“That Reid fag,” he said, confirming my fears. “A couple of the guys stripped him naked and tied him to the weight bench. The whole class saw it, and the little fag was crying like a baby. When the coach finally let him up, he pulled on his pants and ran out of there like a little pussy. It was hilarious!”

I punched him in the face so hard that blood splattered all over the nearby locker. He dropped like a rock, and was out cold. People all around me were staring at me like I had a platypus on my face.

I turned and ran for his locker. Our lockers were set up alphabetically by grade, and it wasn’t too difficult to find the general area of his locker. But when I got there, it was deserted. I started to panic. Then I remembered the note. I pulled it out, and my hands shook as I read it.

Dear Tyler,

I’m sorry. Please don't be mad at me, I have to do this. I just wish I could have met you sooner.

Goodbye.

-Justin

I crumpled up the note, and with tears in my eyes, I ran out of the building. The sky outside was gray, a big change from the clear skies this morning. I ran on. I didn’t stop for anything, I ran blindly across streets, I just knew I had to find him.

God, I hope I’m not too late…