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h to get him going again. We made it through my door, where he paused agai
n, immediately met with his own art work. His eyes didn t dwell on the sca
recrow for long, though, as he took in the rest of the room. Any shyness t
hat Milo might have displayed upon entering my house abruptly disappeared,
and I watched with entertained fascination as he very boldly moved into m
y room and looked around, taking in everything from the sketches I kept on
my walls to where I kept my homework on my desk. He even paused to open t
he top desk drawer and look down at the loose pencils and markers I kept i
n there. I leaned against my doorframe, still watching when he made his wa
y to my shelves where he lifted one sketch pad after another, flipping thr
ough them, pausing every so often, his back to me. He didn t have to be fa
cing me for me to figure out that he d stumbled upon various sketches of h
imself. When he flipped through one of my older books he finally looked ov
er his shoulder to see where I was. I raised an eyebrow at him.
"Are we even yet?" I asked.
He put the book back but not before removing a loose piece of paper from i
t. He turned around, shaking his head as he held up the comic-like picture
I d done of him long before I d ever spoken to him, the one where he had
a cape and slicked-back hair. And a bulge in his pants. "Not even close,"
he responded, but sounded more amused than anything.
"I did that one months ago," I said, moving further into the room. "Last year,
when school got out, I..."
"You saw me when I was picking up Jame."
"You remember that?" I asked, genuinely surprised.
Milo shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "I remember faces." He turned to
place the drawing back on the book, and when he took a seat in my standard
black desk chair I seated myself on my bed, seemingly unable to keep my e
yes off of him. "Do your friends know?" he asked.
"Huh?"
"What you told me," he replied. "Being... gay."
"Oh. No, they don t," I replied. "Just my family. And Leanna. And you."
"You told me but not your friends?" he asked skeptically, to which I shrugge
d.
"You re different."
"Meaning...?"
"I think you know why," I said pointedly, and Milo s eyes dropped to the fl
oor momentarily as he pursed his lips and studied his hands. When he looked
up, it was determinedly.
"None of my friends know," he said quietly, and I leaned forward, intereste
d enough to soak in every word that was coming out of his mouth. "I couldn
t even think about telling my dad. He s all about image, he d..." Milo stop
ped for a moment, swallowing. "You re not going to tell." It was more of a
statement, than a question.
"No," I agreed, and then smiled at him. "I sort of thought you would tell Ass
...eh, Jame, about me."
"Is that why you didn t come back to school that day?" he asked, meeting m
y eyes again.
"Part of the reason," I admitted.
"Oh." We fell silent for a moment while I continued to stare at Milo and he lo
oked at anything but me. I think he felt awkward. I didn t. Not at all, in fac
t. Excited was a better word to describe it. I just didn t think he d apprecia
te it if I jumped up and down and declared it, that s all. If it was even poss
ible to feel better than I did, it happened when Milo kept talking. "I wouldn
t have told Jame," he said, and I believed him. "When you didn t show up for s
chool, I kinda felt like shit. I was going to try to talk to you then, in clas
s. I mean, I wasn t going to tell you... actually, I wasn t going to tell you
anything. I just wanted to apologize, for..."
"Overreacting?" I offered, when Milo came up with nothing. "Calling me a sta
lker... a sick fuck..."
"Okay," he snapped, sounding defensive. "You know, I didn t say that stuff
because you said you were gay or anything. You just--you were creeping me
out. But yeah, I was going to apologize. But then you didn t show up, and
the next day you stopped talking to me."
"You told me to," I quietly pointed out. I was troubled again. It was an uns
ettling feeling to have when I was supposed to be excited, thrilled and perf
ectly happy. But I couldn t help it, not when some of the feelings that I d
had the day he blew me off were resurfacing. They seemed a lot harder to pus
h down with Milo staring back at me. "I creep you out?" I asked.
Milo cocked his head at me. "No. It s not that you creep me out. You were c
reeping me out. I mean, all through community service you kept acting like
we were friends or something. I didn t know what the fuck your deal was. I
mean, dude, I sorta thought you might have hit your head too hard when I wa
s beating the shit out of you that night."
This made me laugh. "You didn t beat the shit out of me. I was drunk, and I
tripped."
"Whatever; when I beat the shit out of your drunk ass, then," he replied, a
s if to appease me. "And even when I tell you to back off you show up at my
house, go in my room--and you freaked out Juanita!"
"No. She..."
"And just when I think you can t get any weirder, you ambush me at the lak
e and start asking for a nude portrait for your girlfriend! What did you t
hink you were doing when you came out and said you were gay--and then accu
sed me of it? I didn t know what the fuck your deal was!"
I opened my mouth, meeting Milo s eyes. There were so many ways to respo
nd to that. But instead, I found myself shaking my head. "Do you know wh
at my deal is now?" I asked him.
He sat back in the chair and studied me for a moment. "Not really," he admit
ted. "But after you told me...you know, I kinda figured out what you were do
ing." Milo let out a breath and I watched as a pink tint crawled over his hi
gh cheekbones. "I m not... I don t know about this stuff, okay? Girls come o
nto me all the time, but I figured you just had a mental handicap or somethi
ng. I mean, you just didn t quit."
"Yeah, I figured you d take a hint," I responded dryly, and then regarded hi
m seriously. "So does it freak you out?"
"Does what freak me out?"
"That I m attracted to you... interested in you. That, and maybe I like you. I
 ll drop the maybe if you stop being a prick to me. It stopped being cute a wh
ile ago. You re still hot, though."
Milo was incredulous. "Are you kidding me?" he demanded.
"Well, it s not like I was trying to get your attention because you won me o
ver with your charming personality," I remarked. "Not that I think you don t
have one... you just need to, maybe, work on it."
Milo once again raised a sharp, dark eyebrow. "Are you always so blunt?"
"Blunt?" I scoffed. "I ve been beating around the bush ever since I met you.
" I lifted a hand to tug on the stud in my left ear for a moment, and let ou
t a breath. "Milo, when you re not acting like you hate my guts, there s...
something there. I like you, and we re both gay, so maybe you and me could..."
"Whoa," he cut me off, straightening in his seat defensively. "Just because
we re both... you know, I don t even know that I like you."
"Because you keep telling yourself that you hate me," I responded boldly. "
I m still the only gay guy you know."
Milo laughed, but it wasn t exactly full of humor. "Are you actually sugge
sting that just because you re the only queer I ve ever met that you and m
e should hook up or something? Because why? We re each other s only option
? That s completely fucked, you know that? I plan on meeting plenty of guy [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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