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.
Chris in Highschool - 13. Chapter 13 - Confession
December 15th, 2008, Monday
So, I got some advice from Mr. Thompson, and a tight hug in those strong arms… sigh… but I guess the best advice I got was from Mrs. Jenkins. You see, she doesn’t even know me, I saw her like four times in my life and she was the best!
So, I decided that this is it, I should tell Peter how I feel about him… I mean, he’s so sexy and masculine, but what… what if there’s a small chance that he’s gay and even the slightest chance that he likes me back… I’ll never know if I don’t try…
And, I put my earphones as I was walking outside the school door and it was playing the new Madonna’s interlude song, “Confessions”:
♪ ♫ I was three feet the floor, gasping for air
trying to realease my father's hands from my throat
I looked into his eyes and wondered if my feet would ever touch the floor again
Have you ever been hit so hard that is sends your body diying across the room?
We all fall to the floor at some point
It's how you pick yourself up - that's the real challenge. Isn't it?
I've açways lived in my own world. I danced to escape my troubles
I've learned that there's light, even in the darkest places
I can't blame my father for anything
You can't rely on other people to make you happy
But l know deep down inside he loved me
I’ve never been in such a dangerous situation but, from ‘my background’ that you already know about, I felt this song was so deep, so sensitive I was getting sad as I walked, so I switched to the next song and Dave Grohl screamed:
♪ ♫ I've got another confession to make…
Yeah, it sees everything around me was conspiring to a confession… yet, another song with a confession to make…
♪ ♫ I'm your fool
Everyone's got their chains to break
Holdin' you
Were you born to resist or be abused?
Is someone getting the best, the best, the best, the best of you?
So, I took a deep breath and knocked on Peter’s door.
“Ni… Chriis! Hiii.” he said to me as he opened the door, maybe startled as he wasn’t expecting me… of course… but so cheered up, his skin looked so beautiful at that very moment, and his smile, too, you know.
“Er… hi.” I sheepishly replied.
‘No no no, Chris, don’t let it ruin your confidence, you came here to tell him… do it… do it’ I was thinking to myself.
But there was a pause and you know when ‘time stood still’, something like that that the singer says… or the poet…
“Oh, come in.” he ushered me inside.
“Yeah, it’s kinda cold this evening…” I simply commented.
‘No, Chris, don’t start talking about the weather, you’re better than that’. I was pushing myself.
“Do you want some juice?” he offered me.
I was suddenly getting so nervous. I ended up taking only a glass of water.
“So…” we said at the same time.
I took a deep breath. “So, you’re my friend, right?” I asked Peter.
“I’ll do my best.” he replied. I could see he was kind of apprehensive in his reply, I mean, that question alone was kind of out of the blue, I know but… but it’s the best I could start with *blush*
“So, I took some advice, I mean, I tried and I got some different replies…” I was talking way too fast, wasn’t making much sense and there were ‘butterflies in my stomach’, you know. I was getting so anxious and Peter… sigh… his perfect angelical, but masculine features at the same time… if I said the right thing it could be all mine… no no Chris, don’t be stupid can’t be… sigh, however, how to continue saying this…
“I like this person…” I blurted out and paused, and I continued “… and I want to tell him… them, ahem, him… that I guess I’m in love and… and…”
Gee, making a ‘them’ turn into a ‘him’ when you actually speak the words, it’s much more difficult than I thought… it brings me a cold feeling to my spine… it must be fear.
“And it’s you, Peter!” I finished the sentence and continued. “Please, please, don’t hit me on the face again, okay?” I said as my fear escalated… I mean, he wasn’t saying anything, he could hit me… gee, it would be so sad, I mean, not like last time, now I’m fond of him… very fond of him, and if he hit me it would be over.
I wasn’t so afraid of the pain, the punch… well, that too, but… but by pondering I could never see him again! Say something Peter… please…
“Er… I’m straight. Yeah, that’s it, I’m straight.” he said.
He didn’t hit my face but he did shatter my heart, somehow… stupid me… what was I expecting! Oh, and yet, he could now shatter my face…
“Please, please, don’t hurt me!” I…er… pleaded and kind of closed my eyes and averted my gaze… just in case.
For the first time I thought ‘gosh, what was I doing there’…
But surprisingly, he took hold of my hands with his soft, big, beautiful hands… wow, sigh… it was the first time someone took my hands like that… with that feeling – only from me, I guess…
I was mentally kicking myself like in a ‘don’t be stupid, Chris’ mental non approval but… but his hands were soft, and big and… it was Peter’s!
“Look at me.” I said to the greenest gaze I’ve ever seen. “I’ll never hurt you… and… and… *deep breath* you can count on me for whatever you need, okay?” he said. I felt relieved that I wouldn’t get punched.
“Ah, and don’t… don’t tell anyone at school, please.” I asked him. It’s the first thing that came to my mind when the fear of protecting myself was over.
And damn it, Peter was holding my hands… ‘though he’s straight… wow, he’s being utterly considerate at me… and Mrs. Jenkins was right, it would turn out alright!
He was holding my hands with his big and soft, and masculine, and beautiful hands… and he was looking at me with deep blue eyes, dark blue, like the sea, you know… and wow. ‘Stupid Chris’ I was mentally kicking myself as I felt my eyes getting watery… I should man up in a moment like that… but… but I spent all my ‘bravery’ to come here and say it… and I felt so vulnerable… even shaky I guess… I hope he didn’t notice… well… maybe he did.
Because he pulled him into hug… a warm, tight one… he was so strong, so masculine… and with so delicate traces at the same time… sigh.
It was a hug that made me melt, like butter *giggle* and his cologne… not that intoxicating one that one just applied but only ‘natural his’. I buried my face on his shoulder and inhaled.
His hug would never be tight enough. I couldn’t contain myself and I think I was soaking his t-shirt but I got there for a whole minute… or two… because maybe I wouldn’t get a hug from Peter… ever again… and I wanted to remember that scent, that texture, for the rest of my life…
“Thank you, I better get going.” I said as I let go of the hug.
I took my bag from the floor and didn’t know what to do with my hands after letting go of that hot body… with a sensitive head… and blue eyes, white smile… sigh… well, I’m so repetitive over it… you know all the rest…
I couldn’t look Peter in the eye again in the same way… I mean, every time I would look him in the eye, the answer ‘I know’ would be… there.
“Alright.” he slowly replied.
I didn’t wait for him to open the door for me and quickly made my way to the door, closing it behind me.
That evening, as I arrived home it was already dark but I didn’t feel like eating… I kicked my sneakers off, unbuttoned my jeans. I would take my t-shirt off like I always do, but I didn’t.
I should take a shower but *bluush* I know it’s extremely silly what I’m gonna tell but… but I wanted to drift off inhaling the remainings of Peter’s scent on my t-shirt, my forearm and my hands.
I was lying on my back, on my bed… and I eventually took my t-shirt off… just to inhale it *bluush* close my eyes and keep whispering Peter’s name.
As I closed my eyes and ‘inhaled some of him’ on my t-shirt, I was feeling my hardon being restrained by my pants and I had to take my jeans off and my briefs in a motion. They already had a small spot… small but wet *blush*
And I jerked off and came in no time, whispering Peter’s name all the time…
I… I put the t-shirt back on *blush* and drifted off intoxicated by some of his scent…
December, 16th, 2008, Tuesday
Damn it, I woke up feeling bad… you know, I cried to drift off and it always takes the best of me when it happens… I didn’t feel like going to school.
“Hey, Chris.” dad called by my bedroom door as he saw I was already opening my eyes.
“Have breakfast with your old man.” he invited me.
I didn’t really want to get up, but I went there, anyway.
“So, as I was saying last weekend, we should move out of this house, sell all of this stuff, buy new stuff…” dad was saying as he was finishing his cup of coffee, already dressed up to go to the office, while I was looking like I just got up… I just wouldn’t say messed up hair because well… my hair looks combed even when I don’t comb it *giggle*
“So, I decided we should move tomorrow!” dad announced the great news.
“But, where to? Will I like it? Will I have to go to another school?” I inquired.
“Nooo… I am already a little ahead on plans…” he started… yeah, that’s businessman dad ‘a little ahead?!’ I mean, we’re moving tomorrow!
“So, I bought that house you suggest me the other day, close to school, etc., etc., you know, the lawyers from the office had it all set up, Mrs. Hershey from management got it all set up, it’s a ‘just go’ thing!” he finished triumphantly.
“So, what’s it that I don’t feel joy emanating from some young guy in front of me?! C’mon! New horizons… nothing that you said or did should count anymore… right?!” he said with a light [not so light] punch on the shoulder.
“Yeah, sure.” I replied. ‘Gr-eat, just great’… I was thinking to myself, me and my big mouth… what use is it going to have now being Peter’s front neighbor… just to have shame written on my face like… forever!
“Well, I’m late, I gotta go.” dad said, already wearing his suit.
“Ah, dad, can I skip school today… to pack my stuff…” I inquired.
“Mmm… actually tomorrow night the guys should come and pack all of it, but if you want to do some of it yourself, it’s cool with me…” he replied and he was off to work.
Well, at least I had an excuse to skip classes not to see Peter’s face and feel ashamed, like yesterday, today, once again… sigh.
While I was settling some stuff in boxes, I found an old album… from when I was a kid myself… those are used by moms to create shameful situations *giggle*
I was looking at various pictures of us, dad, mom and me, you know… as the afternoon passed by.
I recalled each one of those albums, St. Louis, X-mas in NYC, X-mas in London, X-mas in Paris… wow, it’s been so long since I’ve been there for the last time… ah, the time dad decided we should make a safari at Tanzania… Mexico… Québéc… sigh, I couldn’t help getting watery eyes as I passed every picture mom was included…
December, 17th, 2008.
I skipped school again and dad was true to his word, the guys really transported it all in the morning. I had lunch at the downtown restaurant and when I was supposed to go ‘back’ I was instructed to be at the new place and as I arrived, the guys thanked me, gave me the house keys and were gone. I just watched as they left down the street, motionless, with a key in hand, close to the hole the ‘for sale’ plate had formed in the grass.
As I got in, I got to er… *chuckle* know the house… it was smaller than the last one, but still in a very decent size… as now it was only dad and me… I mean, we wouldn’t need four bedrooms… and the stoned walls on the outside made it look very beautiful too.
As I lay down on my new bed, the phone rang.
“Hello, Chris?”
Gee it was Peter’s voice… what do I reply, what do I reply… well, sigh, just say hello… and be careful to say just that. Sound casual!
“Hi, Peter? What’s up?” I asked, as nonchalant as I could.
“I’m calling because I’m worried about you. I didn’t see you at school yesterday nor today either…” he said.
It’s just that I didn’t want to see his face… sigh… actually it was what I wanted to see the most… Peter was the one I wanted to see the most but… but… say something, Chris!
“It’s just that I’ve been busy with… stuff, you know.” I replied.
“Why don’t you come over for a while?” he invited me over.
But, no, I couldn’t accept his invitation out of pity. I mean, he saw me crying yesterday, for Christ’s sake… who does that… he may think I have some brain issue or that I’m a loser… or both.
“Ah, I better not… besides… I’m busy with other stuff…” I said.
“Please, don’t be like that, okay?... Please?” he asked.
‘Wow, Chris’… I was mentally talking to myself ‘maybe he’s not as you think… he’s a brilliant guy who truly cares about you… I mean, he’s straight, still he’s trying hard to understand you… it may be very daring to invite you over like this…’ sigh. Oh, there’s a silent pause on the phone… I should say something… but…
“There’s the science project. We never glued the dinosaurs to the model, what do you say we finish it together?!” he insisted.
“But was already presented on Monday…” I replied, not understanding what he meant.
“Yeah… but… but it would be good to have it glued so we can ‘save it for the future’, you know?!” he replied.
I mean, I couldn’t decline forever… I was… I was dying to see him! And now that *I*, yeah, stupid me, suggested this house and I put myself into this situation… I mean: I’m a few feet away from Peter’s, I could see him by the window, speaking, if I was by some of the front windows, and I’m dying to see him… I… I miss him, you know, though he doesn’t feel the same... sigh…
“Okay.” I simply said.
“Sweet! See you then, Chris?” he asked to be sure.
“See you, bye.” I said.
“See you.” he replied.
“See you.” I replied.
Okay, I didn’t want to hang up the phone on Peter, he was so sweet for… er being himself… and he was being so sweet now… and well, with that he hung up the phone.
I had to do nothing but only step outside, cross the street and ring his doorbell.
“Chris?!” he said in surprise as he opened the door.
“Hi.” I replied, kind of ashamed for being so ‘weird’ arriving like thirty seconds after his invitation.
“How? How did you arrive so fast?” he inquired.
“Ah, it’s just that dad was saying something about moving to a new house… to start over after mom… er… after the last sad events in my family… mmm… actually one me and him now, you know…” and I continued pointing to the house across the street “and as that house across the street was for sale and it’s close to school… well, he bought it.” I simply put it like that.
I didn’t really have to say that I suggested that, etc., etc. Riiight?!
He had a confused face for a moment.
“How come you moved so fast?!” he asked, in a surprised tone.
“Ah, dad hired some ‘specialized’ folks and other people to settle the stuff… actually I didn’t help, so I don’t really know, how…” I just shrugged in reply.
“Why, do you feel like moving from here now that I live there?” I said, naively pointing to the street and his house across from it.
“Noooo, it’s not that!” he quickly replied.
I had my simple clothes, a white t-shirt along with a white waistcoat I was wearing at home, a silver chain… but Peter, he was deadly gorgeous wearing a blue sweater and dark blue jeans, bare foot inside his house…
“So… can I come in… please?” I asked.
“Ah, sure.” he said and ushered me inside.
***
We were in his room for like twenty minutes already, ‘gluing’ dinosaurs to the volcano model and he nor I weren’t saying much.
I was just thinking I was in his room again… maybe I shouldn’t have accepted the invitation and come up with a better excuse… I mean, I tried but he insisted…
I couldn’t stop staring at him… I mean, gorgeous Peter in his own bedroom, close to his bed, inviting me… sigh… ‘quit staring, he’s starting to look back, look to the project’ I was mentally kicking myself and failing miserably. I mean, every time I was looking er… staring, he would look back with those piercing blue eyes.
“So, about what you told me…” he started the conversation I was afraid.
He looked directly in my eyes, like, looking for words to continue. Wow, so deep, so blue eyes, so beautiful pink lips… would never be mine… mmm… it’s just that it hurts to be so close, and knowing he would feel disgusted if he knew what I was thinking… what a loser… and now a loser with watery eyes. I just don’t know whether the heartache or the self-pity felt worse.
I tried to cover up, be silent and look back at the toy and the glue in my hands, but he could see it.
“I’m a mess, I know, I’m so sorry, Peter…” I said as I tried to dry the tears on my face with the back of my hand.
Wow, and that was a magical feeling, a happy-sad one, a dangerous and warm feeling. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
It was too much, and I should, I don’t know, somehow admit I was sad as I couldn’t hide and I was crying silently, with my nose buried in his chest. He put my hand, lightly, on my neck and brought me closer to him.
“Take your time.” he whispered.
“I’m sorry.” I said, looking at him as I let go of the hug. “It’s just that… I know you’re straight and stuff… and I’d like you to know that I’m no sissy and… I try really hard… I’m not nearly as cool, nor pop, nor ‘natural’ like you, I have to run away to home, to study my ass out and I… I have to lie to the football team about… *blush* you know…and…” I was saying and taking my breath.
Then, he lay on the ‘wrong ‘wrong side of the bed’, you know, with our feet on the floor and the small of our backs on the mattress, side by side, talking a lot.
And I guess I was talking too much… but I didn’t have anyone else to talk about … all the stuff… in general, and I guess if Peter couldn’t be more than that, he could a good friend… the best *giggle*
Peter’s straight but… it felt so intimate… after all it ain’t all about sex, right?!
I was talking about mom… telling him how I always know, every night, when I’m outside or looking through the window, which star is mom looking back at me when I look at the sky.
I felt my little finger touch his as we were lying side by side. As he’s straight, he instinctively took his hand away… but he’s so so considerate (so much it hurts a little because of that too), that he decided placing his hand back and ‘push’ his little finger close to mine.
I know should put my hand away as the right thing to do, but I didn’t have the nerve… I mean, it was my moment with Peter… my new best friend and… I looked at my watch.
“Damn it!” I said as I got up from bed in a jolt.
“What’s it?” he said, sitting on the bed, startled.
“I… I have an appointment and it’s been so cool being talking to you here, and you, you’re being so cool… well, you already know that, anyways… I’m late.” I said all too fast, running to the door.
But I wasn’t crying… I was happy. I guess I already said that I think this happy-sad feeling is passion… or love… well, I don’t know.
***
I was glad I lived close to school now, because I could put my guitar bag on my back and rush to school, that was only a few blocks away.
I promised Mrs. Jenkins I would be part of the Christmas presentation as Toshiro was still sick. I mean, I’m not part of the music club but it was just while the guy was sick.
“Chris, just in time!” Mrs. Jenkins greeted me with a smile.
“I’m sorry I lost track of time.” I said, taking my breath, as I practically ran to arrive in time for the school presentation.
There were lots of parents and relatives… and friends I guess… on the audience. I could be cool about the guys from the team not knowing I was here because they’d never show up in something like this. I particularly think it was a shame, as a cultural thing is so nice… to the soul, you know… but for now I was very glad they didn’t come.
I don’t know why I always ‘scanned the audience’ with my eyes… dad wouldn’t be there, I mean, I didn’t tell about it to him… I… I didn’t want him to come… he never goes to the football season when I play… I gave up on looking for him in the audience…
“So, people, the first song is ‘O holy night’”. Mrs. Jenkins announced and people cheered.
They were not nearly as noisy as the football audience, but it made me a little nervous yet. I guess it was because it’s all new to me.
It wasn’t really challenging to the first song, maybe for two or three more we barely rehearsed… but the first one was an easy ballad and the guitar basically only marked the tempo.
♪ ♫ O holy night the stars are brightly shining…
***And now, should Chris be with Peter or not?!***
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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.
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