Various One Shots - 4. Chapter 4

It’s surprising how well you can hide yourself from those around you; to never draw attention to yourself on what you do. You just have to be seen as ordinary, that way people just pass you by when they look for someone amazing, to seem so ordinary that people just pass right over you when looking for someone amazing. It was so easy too, how I became one of those in the shadows. It was…amazing just blending in and not being signaled out. It still didn’t stop me from hurting inside.

All I had to do was wear a hoody, covering my face and hiding my dark looks, something you don’t truly see around here. My parents are dark of hair and light of eyes, so I know where I get that from. I also hide my body under the hoody to, not wanting to draw the eye of a female…or a male; at least not quite yet. I seem shorter than I actually am; my mother says I need to stop hunching over and stand up straight. I say to her “I don’t want to stand up and that I’m short as it is already. What does an inch more would mean to me?”

Even as I walk these new halls of a new school on the East coast of the U.S., I wonder if they will react to me like my last school did. Will they freak out and call me weird or strange, or even worse yet, a freak for wanting to be with another man? To lay with them, sleep with them? What would happen, if I came out of the closet to a school full of jocks, preps and country boys? Would I get beaten up…?

These thoughts run through my head, making me dizzy with them; making me confused and scared.

I stop at my locker and look up, blushing as I see one of the most popular guy around walk and smirk with his pretty little girlfriend down the hallway. I knew his secret, even though he didn’t know mine. I knew he was gay. He may have a girlfriend, but it was just for show. He wasn't quite ready to come out yet, or so I've heard on the grapevine at work.

I also know that she had a girlfriend but they were just like me and hide in the shadows. I hear they haven't come out to their parents yet. I can't say the same unfortunately. I did and it had not been a pretty sight. They raged and the denied; they ignored me and I ignored them, or as much as we could, for nearly a year before my mother broke down and asked me why. “I told her it was my choice to accept myself, it’s not something I choose, I was born this way I can’t change it.”

We've been working on rebuilding our relationship ever since. I hope that I can say the same about my relationship with my father someday...

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, realizing that I had been standing there for a good three minutes as I stared at my calculus book; also realizing that Conall had gone past me with his fake girlfriend and so called friends. I look around me and shove the last of my books into my bag before shutting my locker with a clang that echoed slightly in the emptying hall way.

'I can never seem to gather up enough courage to say hello to him, even in passing,' I think to myself. 'Even when I dance or work at the club I can never do it, not once. I just…don’t know how to approach him, even though I want to.'

Grabbing my books and shaking my head to clear my head once more, I rush off to class, never noticing that Conall was looking at me as I rush past him, needing to get to class quickly to talk to our teacher, and I completely missed the thoughtful glint in his eyes.

Something else I never noticed were, were the looks he kept shooting me as I hid in my hoody that day; this time a black one with a little decal on the duel sided pocket of a gay pride flag. No one could really tell what it was, but it was a start for me. At least, I thought no one could tell what it was, but then again, I wasn’t really paying attention.

At the end of school that day, feeling like it had gone on much longer than it usually did, I rushed out to my car; a little four door Honda that I had fixed up with the money that I made as a waiter at the club, and headed home to do my homework before taking a shower in preparation for going to work that night.

I was scheduled to work the floor that night; meaning I would walk around, mingle with the customers and serve drinks to those who sat at the tables. It was a good paying job, even if it didn’t leave me much time to sleep or hang out with my family until Sunday.

No one knew about this job, and I wanted to keep it that way. I didn’t need everyone at school knowing about my job and teasing me about it, or calling me nasty names. I had to deal with that before and I really didn’t want to deal with it again. Even my parents didn't know about my job. My mother may have an inkling, but since our relationship is still strained a bit, I don't want to put that on her just yet. It would strain our already hurting relationship as it is. Knowing her son not only worked in a bar, but a gay bar where I was hit on constantly would be a bit to much to add to her plate. So, I've decided to wait to tell her. Preferable after I'm going to college.

Arriving at my home rather quickly, a small two story house that my parents owned, I went inside, said hello to my mother and father and headed up the stairs. I had taken off my hoody and was carrying it in my arms, letting my hair catch the light and hang in my face. Getting to my room, I flip my stereo on and sit at my desk. Waking my computer up from the hibernation state that it was on, I pull out my homework, piling it in order to what I need to do first, before I set my alarm. That done, I start on my homework, only stopping long enough to take the soda from my mother with a grateful smile.

A couple of hours later, having completed the more important homework, my alarm goes off, startling me in a middle of a sentence. Turning the alarm off before finishing the sentence, I get up and head for the shower, starting to get ready for my night at work. After getting out, I slide on a pair of boot cut jeans that hugged my legs and hips and a dark shirt that ended half an inch above my belt line and showed off my shoulders and neck. I was nearly ready to go.

I then sit down on my bed and grab my black shoes and sliding on a pair of socks, I pull them on, tying the medium blue laces. Finishing off my outfit with a necklace made with thick cord with a circle embossed with a rose on it, I head down stairs, pausing to grab my apron, keys and wallet.

Calling out a good bye, I walk out of the house and towards my car. Getting in, I indulge in something that I rarely do: I blast my music. Flipping my favorite cd to “Would You Love a Monster Man?” I pull out of the driveway and head to work. Once I hit the free way, I turn up the music even more, singing along with the lyrics as I speed up and deftly maneuver around other cars on the road with me.

I am soon stepping out of my car, and locking the doors behind the club that I work at. Walking up to the back door, I wave my keycard and nametag over the scanner, unlocking the door before stepping into the back rooms of the club. Back here, I can barely hear the music; barely feel the thrumming. It makes my blood run faster though my veins as I stash my stuff into my locker, knowing that soon I would be listening to it even as I work the floor.

Getting ready for my night of work consisted of tying my short apron on and making sure that my order pad was in one pocket with a couple of pens. Doing one last check over my person, I head over to my boss, who was working the bar, to get which tables I would be serving. After getting my assignment, I head out into the mass, smiling at regulars, flirting with newbie’s', taking orders and fulfilling them, all the while, watching for any faces that I might know and didn’t want there.

Of course my boss would notice and have to say something about it when I came up to the bar for an order. She filled it alright, but since it was slow she got to bug me.

“Why do you look like someone was out to get you, darling?” she asks as she makes the odd house mix of sprite with a bit of grapefruit liquor. I look at her before turning back to my cup with some water. Finishing it off my water, I look at her again.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I reply, settling my drinks onto my tray so that they wouldn’t fall off while I was walking to the table. She just gave me an expression that told me she didn’t believe a single word. “It’s not that someone is out to get me. It’s just that no one knows me and if I want to keep it that way, I need to be able to spot them and start my act.”

She snorts and heads down the bar, leaving me be for the time being. I sigh, glad for a small reprieve and headed back to the table with the tray of drinks. Setting them down and taking the money, I walk away only to stop and stare as Conall walks through the crowd, his dark eyes scanning those around him. My breath was stolen away as I took in his looks.

He was looking on the yummy side with a pair of rust color jeans and a cream colored shirt. He sure did know how to dress and it made me drool at what was hinted under those clothes. Shaking my head, I plaster on a smile and walk up to him and offer to show him one of the few free tables. I was never as happy as that moment when he accepted.

Weaving through the crowd, I take him and apparently a couple of friends that I’ve never seen before to a booth near the back.

After sitting them down, I take their orders and wander off towards the bar, taking a couple more orders along the way. I get the orders and make my way back, only dropping off the beer and the mixed drinks on the way at the other tables. Dropping off the drinks and taking their money I head back to my work.

That was how it was for the rest of the night. I would take orders, fill them, take their money and move onto the next table. I ended up serving mostly sodas to Conall and his friends, including a non-alcoholic version of the house special, made with grapefruit juice instead of the liquor.

As soon as midnight rolled around, I was serving the last of the drinks, collecting my tips and handing over the check pad to the girl who was taking over for me. Heading into the back rooms, I go to the employee lounge and crash on the worn couch, tired from the night. The club was packed and had been since about 8, about 2 hours after I had gotten to work. The only really good thing that came out of a packed club was the fact that I ended up with quite a few tips; that I had to count and put on my card.

Pulling out the bank bag with my tips from the night out, I dump it out onto the table in front of me and start to separate the money out. After they were in neat little piles, I grab my tip log book and start to log in my tip amounts. It doesn’t take me long, and soon I’m closing the book, putting the coins into rolls before stashing it all back into my back bag. Getting up, I take my time to stretch and work the kinks out of my back from leaning over the table as I counted. Moaning in dark pleasure, I let my body become loose as I lean over and grab my stuff and head to the locker rooms.

Opening my locker, I grab my jacket and backpack, I stash my money bag into it before pulling on my tan jacket and head out into the night, slinging my bag onto my back. I almost get to my car before I notice that Conall is leaning against my trunk, his eyes watching my every movement. Pausing I wonder if I can get away with looking like I was actually heading for a different car before deciding I couldn’t and continued on my way to it.

Walking up to him, I look up, glad that it was dark as I felt the blush cross my cheeks, a rather involuntary action on my part. Looking at him, I scramble to figure out what to say, even as he stares back at me with a smirk on his lips.

“Why are you leaning on my car?” I finally asks, my eyes not leaving his. He just strokes the trunk and smirks some more. I wasn’t about to ask him again; all my courage just took flight and left me high and dry.

I watch as his hand moves to the trunk and start to stroke the new scrape in the paint slowly before tearing my eyes away from his hand and to his eyes. They sparkled in mischief and I wonder if perhaps he wasn’t teasing me in some way and I just didn’t know about it.

“Is it your car? I didn’t know you owned it since you hide under that hoody of yours,” he purrs out, the words causing me to blush darker and then groan softly, knowing that he knew exactly who I was.

“Why are you here? Are you going to out me to the entire school?” I ask softly, even though a small part of my thoughts are screaming at me that if he outed me, he would out himself. Conall just shakes his head, his sand gold hair falling forward into one eye, making me want to step up to him and brush it out of his face. I forcible stamp down on that urge and try to wait for his answer patiently. He doesn’t seem to be wanting to speak any time soon and it’s making me want to force the information out. Finally he speaks.

“I’m not going to out you. I’m just wondering why you hide,” the male says. Those words cause my eyes to shift away from his and my arms to come up to hug myself.

“I have many reasons that I don’t have to tell you. Why do you want to know?” I ask softly as I start to move towards my car door. I can hear him shift, the gravel under his feet crunching as my car creaks slightly; forcing me to notice that I need to get the underside looked at soon.

Shaking my head, I unlock the door, the click of the lock sounding loud in the quiet as Conall comes up to lean against the side of the car. I take a chance and look up, only to jerk back in surprise at seeing his green eyes so close to my own face.

“I’m curious. I know why I’m hiding, but why are you?” he asks softly. His voice was smooth and gentle, making him sound like I was a skittish animal. I suppose I was; skittish that is, not an animal. I look down and open my door before I take a deep breath and once more look up.

“Because I wasn’t exactly liked in my last school because of the fact that I was gay,” I tell him, my own voice quiet. “I prefer to hide who I am right now. Maybe one day I’ll come out.”

He pulls away and turns his head to the star spotted sky. We stand there for several long moments; me just watching him, my bag hanging from my hands and him looking at the sky, his face passive. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment, and if it would end up with one of us hurt.

“Want some company?” he finally asks, making me jerk in surprise and look at him with wide eyes.

“What do you mean?” I ask, trying hard not to stutter over my words in my nervousness. He lowers his head, turning it so that he caught my eyes. I notice that a lazy smirk was making its way across his face, making me feel more worry about what I had heard and if he was sincere in his offer.

“Want some company?” he asks, making blink and realize that, yes, he was asking me out in his own way. I just had to make sure though, so I steeled myself, looked him in the eye and opened my mouth.

“You’re asking me on a date?” I ask; my voice sounding more like a squeak than anything. Which apparently, he found kinda funny since he snickered at it. I just huff and cross my arms across my chest and wait for him to answer.

“Yes, I’m asking you out on a date. So, what’s your answer, mouse?” he replies, still chuckling under his breath. I bite on my lip and think over the pros and cons. He would end up being my first serious relationship, if things worked out, and we were both hiding who we were, which could put a strain on it. But, we were also due to graduate in the next few months and I knew he was going to an out of state college, while I was going to an out of state community college. It would allow us to be who we are, without having to come out in a flamboyant way.

I make my decision and pull out a note book from my bag. Grabbing a pen, I quickly write out my address, my number and my schedule for the next three weeks before shoving the paper into his hands.

“I will, but the moment I am teased because I’m dating you, even if we are hiding, I’m dragging you out of the closet with me,” I warn, with a teasing smile on my lips, telling him I would never do that to him. He nods and kisses my cheek before heading to his own car.

“I’ll pick you up on Saturday at 4. Dress comfortable. We’ll go to the next county over,” he calls over my shoulder as I watch his ass swing back and forth. I smile after he had gotten into his car and drove off, the sound of the wheels on the gravel pulling me out of my thoughts. Shaking my head, I climb into my own vehicle, before pulling out a small date book from my arm compartment and on the Saturday square write ‘C. Date. 6’ with a little heart by the side, before closing it up and shoving it back into its spot.

Starting my car, I can’t help but feel a little bit of hope for my future. I may be hiding, but I could still use some company.