Dribbles - 19. The Finish Line

"But if you don't do it, you know you will regret it for the rest of your life."

Espen swung around and stared at Jaze. "Really? You have got to be kidding me with that shit!"

He smirked. "Peer pressure, dude. You know you can't resist."

Espen rolled his eyes. "Really? You think that is going to work on me?"

"It might. There's always a first time for everything," Jaze said. "Like a first time for you to actually man up. You've been stuck on him for forever." He'd been harping on Espen all day; even muttering in the line at school for lunch about how Espen needed to suck it up and just do it already.

Espen chewed on his lip. Peer pressure wouldn't get him to ask Crew out, but he had to do something. Nothing was ever as simple as it sounded though. Dragging his coat closer to him, Espen shivered in a way that had nothing to do with the cold air blowing his pale blond hair from his face. He'd had a crush on Crew for a long time, and he was pretty sure he was gay, but he didn't know for certain.

Which was his problem.

Espen never did anything he wasn't sure of the outcome. His friends always laughed because while he was lean, the epitome of the runner he was, his name meant god bear. He couldn't be less of a bear in form, but he was gruff and grumpy, always taking his time, unless he was on the race track. Of course that wasn't much of a surprise; running didn't take any thinking. He had a goal, the finish line, and the drive to get there first.

Maybe if he thought of getting Crew out on a date as the finish line. He'd chase that cute little ass anytime, and if he thought of it as a race, maybe he could stop thinking about it? At least enough to get the nerve up to actually make the call. All he had to do was . . . "Get there first," he muttered.

"Huh?" Jaze pulled his hands away from his ears, which were turning bright red in the cold air. "What?"

"Nothing." Espen looked up and saw his house. "It's cold, I'm gonna head inside. See you tomorrow?"

Now it was Jaze's turn to roll his eyes. "Pussy. It's not that cold; not even below zero yet." His house was across the street from Espen's. They'd been walking to and from school since they started freshman year together. Neither of them had a car yet so they were stuck still walking, even though they were juniors. "Call him!" he shouted over his shoulder as he ran across the street.

Espen jogged up to his own door, sliding his key in the lock. He had a good two hours before his parents would be home from work. He set his backpack down at the table, and then he cranked up the heat a bit. It wasn't that much above zero out there. Grabbing the phone, he checked for any messages.

Hearing the voicemail beep, he dialed the number. He was pouring milk in a glass when the message started to play.

"Hey Espen, I got your number from your friend Sara."

Espen couldn't believe it. What was Crew doing calling him?

"I heard you wanted to ask me something. I thought that I would call so you would have my number; you know, just in case you decided you wanted to, umm, call me." There was an awkward little laugh, then he spoke again. "So, anyway, now you have my number."

Espen's mouth was hanging open and he was unable to focus on anything but that voice right in his ear. That laugh was what drew him in, the first time he heard it was in the locker rooms. He'd been changing and turned, catching Crew looking at him. The dark haired boy had blushed and turned to face the lockers, giving that little chuckle. It seemed like he did it whenever he was nervous, and every time Espen heard it and thought of Crew checking out his ass it made him hard.

His jeans were too tight.

"Oh, and by the way, you might want to tell your friend to talk a little quieter next time. So yeah, anyway, call me."

The creepy female voice asked Espen if he wanted to replay, save, or delete the message, which knocked him out of his Crew induced trance. Of course, he now noticed that he'd dumped half a gallon of milk all over the counter and floor without even realizing it.

"Shit." He grabbed a huge wad of paper towels and threw them over the mess. Then he hit replay on the message.

"So yeah, anyway, call me."

Espen still couldn't believe that Crew called him first. The guy seemed so shy. He was supposed to be one Espen chased, not the other way around. Though, it wasn't exactly like Crew had asked him out. He'd just sorta... given him the starting shot.

Keeping his mind firmly on the finish line, Espen pulled up the last caller and hit redial.