Peter in Highschool - 2. The extra attention

It wasn’t good missing a school day. I mean, I always complain about going to school but I kinda like going to school… like ‘I’m a natural at it’ always keep good grades, get away from trouble. I guess, dunno, it’s just kind of humiliating not being able to go.

I was home in a gloomy mood, maybe due to the pain in my foot, but actually it was mild as long as I wasn’t stepping on the floor.

Sure thing, I jerked off thinking about Mr. Thompson, his bulging biceps, his hairy legs… anyway…

When I thought about Nick, shoulders length shiny blond hair, deep hazel gaze, almost looking like honey sweet as should be those reddish lips, those pale hands, thin fingers… if they could only touch my skin… preferentially ‘down there’… well, I ended up jerking off to Nick too.

I mean it, you know, when you jerk off “to” someone? For example, when I’m about to cum and Brad Pitt comes in my mind, I just think the nastiest I can imagine of him, like his tanned abs and mentally say “it’s for you”. I know you’d chuckle at this silly comment… but well, even blushing at that… it’s true!

Other than that, I ate a lot that morning. Sometimes, there’s nothing better than watch TV and eat junk food – well, except for playing with ‘the toy nature gave me’ but that I’d just done twice so, yeah, TV and junk food. I was watching boy band concerts – I was addicted to that – I mean, boys cute as hell, trying to be sexy – and succeeding, so very well – singing about love and flirting… like OMG.

That day, I was basically alternating between watching TV and eating and sleeping, so I had that feeling that I had just woke up and the day didn’t quite start… aggravated by the pain killer effect, I guess.

There was a knock on the door and mom burst it open – one of these days she would end up seeing things she didn’t want to.

“Peter, your friend is downstairs.”

I was kind of sleepy and just asked “Who?!”

“Your friend Nicholas, from school, he said.”

As I said nothing she continued “I’m sending him up here.”

“Oh, okay.” I said and damn it, second thing I noticed is that I was in “home clothes” with that “I’m home” hairdo, basically only a little better than “I had just woke up”.

Mom left the door open but there was a light knock anyway.

“Hi, Peter.” it was Nick.

The confident jock from yesterday seemed almost bashful as he tentatively entered the room. I guess it’s the ‘strange territory’ feeling, I assumed.

Nonetheless, he was utterly beautiful that day, schoolbag on his right shoulder, a white jacket over a red t-shirt and jeans, just to accentuate his overwhelming blond features.

“Hi, Nick. Leave your bag over there if you want to” I said, pointing to the desk chair.

“Wow, you look a little dizzy from medicine.” he commented above a whisper.

I hadn’t realized that, actually, I should be looking like crap… you know, when you take so much medicine and sleep, then when you’re awake you have that half asleep eyes expression? Well, that was me, but I’m sure I looked more alert, almost ‘normal’ after spotting Nick’s beauty ‘lighting’ my room… wow, he was so beautiful at that very moment.

So, after dropping his bag in silence, he continued “I’m sorry” and soon after meeting my eyes he looked at the floor.

“What for?” I asked, still a bit in ‘slow motion’ from the medicine.

“Well, I’m sorry for yesterday… for distracting you with my talking and make you fall, and get hurt.” He concluded looking at my foot. It wasn’t bruised nor anything, just hurt a little.

Like I said, I was “waking up” in slow motion, so I didn’t know what to say, I mean, he was taking blame for something random and… well, so flattering he was visiting me to check if I got better, from my injured foot, out of concern.

I guess I took too long without saying anything.

“The teacher gave us an exercise this morning and I asked for an extra copy, to bring it to you… as you’re sick… at home.” he said and shrugged holding the paper with his both hands, kind of looking at it, kind of looking at me with those hazel eyes.

“But if you want me to come back another time… I can leave the paper here…” he continued.

“No!” I answered, almost too fast.

“I wasn’t in class for instructions… I’ll need help.” I continued.

“Of course! You’re gonna need help, you’re sick.” he completed. It was like his face lit up to some fulfilled expectation for me to say that but nah.. it was just me and my big imagination.

And with that he was sitting on the bed, exercise in hands.

He ended up taking his sneakers off and sitting beside me on the bed, holding the paper for me as if I was injured on the arm, not on the foot.

I mean, yes, he was on socks (fully clothed but still on socks) lying close to me (sitting) on my bed!

I was glad I had a book on my lap to hide a semi which was about to become an erection – so very inappropriate – the reason I was focusing on the exercises, to avoid that kind of thought.

I didn’t understand how he knew I’d miss that exercise as we didn’t even have any class in common… I didn’t even know if I would have this exercise to do… and probably that’s what made the extra attention so very cute.

As I finished the exercises Nick said he had to go and got his bag.

“So, Peter, when can you get back to classes?”

“Only Monday.” I replied.

“I really hope you get all better and healed before that. Now I have to go, it’s getting late, so, see you” he said.

“See you” I simply replied and with that, he left.

“Well it’s not like he’s gonna ignore my existence at school on Monday.” I was thinking “and he’s straight and most importantly, he’s cool, so Pete, don’t screw it up!” I mentally concluded to myself.

***

Next day, as I was in my room (where else, doing what else with that injured foot?!), I heard some talking coming from downstairs.

I thought I was to see Nick only on Monday but to my surprise and great delight he showed up again! Cool!

I couldn’t quite understand what they were talking about but I guess for a few minutes mom was either trying to force him to eat something as he was visiting at home or inquiring him god knows what trying to extract information… or both.

I don’t know about you but when I find dad or mom talking to a friend it seems they’re trying to ‘extract information’.

“No please… no need for that… you can go upstairs by yourself. Peter might know it’s you as you were here yesterday…” I barely heard mom finishing and with that a light knock on the door.

There he was, Nick, in a white t-shirt and dark green pants. Was he supposed to be more beautiful by the day?!

“Hi, I brought some exercises from today.” he said “Every class that had printed exercises, I asked for a spare one, for you… these two are what I got.” he concluded.

Wow, I didn’t know what to say, but I’m always so talkative and this ‘I don’t know what to say’ thing was getting annoying so, I said something.

“Thank you for worrying about me. You did nothing wrong and still… you’re being so cool. I really appreciate it. I mean it.”

He shrugged as to say ‘it’s nothing’ and gave a nervous chuckle as reply.

“So, this is homework. I have to complete it too. Can we do it together?” he asked taking his pencil case out of his bag.

“Yeah, sure.” I replied.

With that, he took his sneakers off and he was sitting on the bed, with his pencil case in his lap, stretching his legs, beside me and started homework – like that. I wish I had this straight jock confidence… and beauty. I mean, he was so beautiful… and cool… and attentive… and sitting so close to me.

He was wearing pants but, anyway, his leg would brush against mine – he asked me once or twice “Did I brush against your injured foot? I’m sorry. Is it already better?” – or he would rub his arm against mine as he was writing and would put his hair behind his ear with his fingers, look at me and give me a small smile as if to say ‘I’m sorry’. Wow, what a good feeling!

***

It’s getting dark… actually it’s already dark, I have to go.” he said after we finished the exercises as we were chatting for a few minutes.

In the end, his father would pick him up so we got to chat like five more minutes on the sofa, in the living room, and then, he had to go.

“Now, I have to go.” he said and I could trace a hint of sadness in his eyes but it was probably my own sadness reflected in the liquid amber of his eyes, and he continued.

“And as tomorrow’s Saturday there’s no homework from school to bring you, so… see you on Monday I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess, see you.”

“Yeah, see you.” he replied.

Then he offered me his hand for me to shake and I got it. He held it longer than usual and I could feel the warmth of his hand or it was me lost on the time lapse, looking on the hazel of his eyes – that was kind of green at that very moment.

“Yeah, see you.” I replied, after letting go of his hand.

“Bye.” he said.

“Bye.”

And well, it seems I wouldn’t see Nick ‘till Monday, I thought to myself.

And he was so beautiful, that nose, those lips, that smile, his arms developing some nice bulging biceps, his flat abs that I could notice flat when he was sitting, stretching his legs on my bed, back reclined, and his pants, bulging in all the right placed.

And my second thought was “Peter he’s so cool, quit that crap or you’re gonna fuck it up!”

***

Saturday was uneventful, as you can imagine, as I was injured in bed, trying to tell mom I was already OK but limping a little – it wasn’t hurting anymore but it was mostly, probably, due to the fear about stepping on the floor and get it to hurt.

I wish I could visit Nick but I was injured – and, for instance, I didn’t even know where he lived – I wish I could call Nick – I saw mom taking his house phone number with his dad when he got here to pick him up as ‘super precautious’ to ‘if something happens’ – but I didn’t know what to call for…

At one point, I was sitting on the couch, not really paying attention on TV, close to the phone, only thinking on what to talk about to be able to call Nick.

The phone rand and almost scared the shit out of me. I was so close to it I got it on the first ring.

“Hello?”

“Hello, may I talk to Peter please, it is, if he’s there, he1s not sleeping, if he can talk to me… please?”

“Nick?”

“Peter?”

I’m so glad you called!” I replied.

“Really? Why?!” – is it possible to see a smile spread ‘across the telephone’?! Not really, I don’t think so… it was just my imagination.

“Er… I... mmm…” I started “because I have a doubt, from an exercise… from yesterday!”

“Ah, good… I mean, not good, that you have a doubt but good that I called and now you can ask me.” he finished with a light chuckle.

It started like this but it went on as great conversation, again, about everything, from TV to school gossip, to family and funny moments… until mom was yelling for me to let go of the phone ‘to the sake of Nick’s mother and her telephone bill’.

On Sunday, I ended up calling Nick and it was pretty much the same.

I was thinking as I went to bed “Tomorrow is Monday and although I don’t have any classes with Nick, my foot is all better and I hope we can catch up before class and maybe even at lunch break!” and continued “but don’t forget, Peter, he’s probably straight, so don’t mess it up!” “If there was… only… a way to find out not messing it up…