Chapter 8: Social dilemmas

Thanks to Jim for editing!

If I was a pervert, then Milo Trust was a slut. An evasive slut who disappeared as soon as I went to retrieve a few damp washcloths. Oh, he was good. Out the door less than five minutes after I came all over his hand. My parents had been in the living room and hadn't even heard him leave. I didn't have his phone number, so I couldn't call him and ask why he'd ditched me again. I was confused, especially after the encounter we'd shared. I could understand why he'd be embarrassed, and maybe why he'd run out the first time he did last night. But, he'd come back. Sure, it was for his jacket, but considering that I still had that very jacket in my car on Monday morning, I doubted that it was the important thing to him. He'd come back, and things had felt so perfect. Those magazines I looked at still put us to shame, but for me and Milo, it was perfect. My first sexual experience with a guy, and I couldn't even bask in the afterglow because once again, I was concerned over Milo Trust and what the hell went on in that thick skull of his.

At least when I met Caleb, Haily and Joe at the Hollander's near the school that morning, Caleb didn't so much as bring up Milo. If he'd thought about Milo Trust's presence at all after he left my house, then it certainly didn't show. Then again, it wouldn't surprise me if Caleb hadn't given it a second thought. He was probably just satisfied that it wasn't Jame Graham hanging around. Or maybe, I thought, he wasn't about to make a big deal out of it in front of Haily and Joe. Either way, I was glad that Milo's name hadn't been mentioned. I was irritated with him, and I doubted I could make him sound like a good guy with my friends while I was so frustrated.

I just didn't understand why he had to leave like that. There were probably a hundred excuses that he could come up with. I'm sure any of them would have been better than what I was thinking. Beneath all of my frustration and confusion as I continued to try to understand Milo, there was blunt concern that he regretted. Regretted something, or maybe everything that had happened the night before. It made me question my own behavior. I knew I didn't force him to do anything. Not at all. But at the same time, I couldn't help but wonder if my timing was appropriate. True, I'd been thinking about initiating contact like that with Milo since I'd met him, but I guess I could have found a more appropriate time. Like, when he wasn't over at my house venting about his family.

I was worried about that, too. Milo's family. His dad. He'd said they were fighting, and I hoped that he wasn't in trouble. I wished there was a way to find out. Unfortunately, it wasn't like I saw Milo until parenting class, so I supposed that I had a long day of suspense and overanalyzing the situation ahead of me.

"Here, eat this. I can't finish," Haily said.

I looked towards her and turned my nose up at the half-eaten bran muffin that she was holding out for me. I'd hardly eaten anything when I met my friends at the bakery for breakfast. This seemed to concern Haily more than anyone else, and she'd been following me with that muffin ever since we arrived at school.

"You sure?" she asked, pouting. "You're not getting sick again, are you?"

I sighed, and forced myself to smile at Haily as we navigated our way through the halls, crowded with several members of the varsity football team standing around, clad in their purple and orange team jackets, and further cluttered by several girls. It was homecoming week, and there were banners and flags in every single hall, along with a sense of excitement emanating from the student body. Generally, I enjoyed the atmosphere of it all. A bunch of testosterone-happy guys bouncing off the walls had never hurt anything, if you asked me. But at the moment, I was just too distracted to care about any of it. Unfortunately, I was afraid that my distraction was also hindering my ability to be a good friend. Haily was just trying to help, but like a lot of her recent behavior, it only had me feeling smothered. She'd showed up at Hollander's that morning with Joe and Caleb teasing her because of the change in her wardrobe. She was still prone to jeans and a t-shirt, but what she'd dressed in today definitely hadn't come from the men's department, like most of her clothes. Today she was dressed like most of the girls in our school in jeans that hugged every curve she had and a close-fitting red, long-sleeved t-shirt. Her hair was still back in its familiar braid, but she'd gone to the trouble of putting on lip-gloss. While Caleb and Joe had been teasing her through breakfast, she kept looking at me, probably waiting for me to tell her what I'd thought. Feeling uncomfortable with the looks she was giving me, I'd kept my mouth shut, and I was afraid that I'd hurt her feelings. The way she was frowning at the bran muffin now told me that I was in risk of doing it again.

"I'm fine, Haily, really. Thanks, though," I said, and then for good measure, added, "I think I ate too much pasta last night. I'll be better by lunch."

"If you say so."

I sighed, feeling the need to say something more. But, before I could get around to it I heard my name and turned around.

"Larmont!"

I smiled at Brandon Sholer as he pushed through a group of his massive friends to get to me, wearing his team jacket, just like everyone else. Brandon and Caleb might have been rivals, but if I stayed away from everyone who Caleb saw that way, I wouldn't have any friends at all; and beneath Brandon's womanizing and cocky persona, there was actually a nice guy. Not to mention, he wasn't bad to look at. He was an inch taller than me, and his straight blond hair was almost as light as mine, but he wasn't as fair skinned. Blue eyes, boyish dimples, and a body fit to eat off of completed the package. He clasped my hand as he reached me, and unleashed those dimples at Haily. She openly rolled her eyes at him, but if Brandon noticed, it didn't show as he handed me an orange flyer.

"We're having a spirit rally tomorrow night here at the school," he announced. "Are you guys coming to the game on Friday?"

"We'll be there," I replied. My friends and I usually went to one football game of the season, and that was usually homecoming. This year I was particularly looking forward to it because our school was going against Stratfort. There had never really been a rivalry between the two schools, because Stratfort sucked too much for there to be one, but I was curious to see some faces that might be familiar to Milo. "Good luck with the game, Brandon."

He smirked. "Who needs luck when you've got me?" he remarked. "I'll see you guys later. Oh, and after the game, I'm throwing a party at my place. Stop by... you look good today, Haily."

I laughed at the way Haily blushed this time and waved to Brandon. "Later." I watched him walk away for a moment, appreciating the strut his walk had always had. When Brandon Sholer walked away, my focus was rarely anywhere other than his ass. But my focus was disrupted when a more unwelcome voice came from behind Haily and me.

"Yeah, Haily. You look good today. Those jeans are very becoming on you. You know, if I was your pants, I'd be coming, too."

I had to grab Haily's arm when she whirled on Jame Graham, standing there with his obnoxious smile and big cheeks, wearing a green-and-white sweater that his grandma had probably made him last Christmas.

"And if I was your face, I'd be taking a shit!" Haily retorted, sounding outraged. It only got worse when Jame smirked at her. It seemed like he'd been harassing Haily since school started, and I for one was getting tired of it.

"Come on, Haily," I insisted, dragging her around Assface. "He's not even worth it."

I felt Haily relax when I pulled her away, but I was glaring at Jame, only becoming a little furious myself when he ignored me and blew a kiss at Haily. I pulled her behind me in response, and turned on Jame. Now, it was Haily tugging on my arm.

"Why don't you just back off?" I demanded. "I swear to god, next time I'll let her kick your ass."

"Kinky!" Jame responded, still grinning in a way that had his cheeks all puffed out. "Looking forward to it."

"Oh, fuck yourself, Assface!" Haily snapped behind me, suddenly sounding exasperated. She started pulling me away, but I scowled at Jame until she got me turned around, too. How the hell Milo could be friends with that idiot was beyond my understanding. "I hate that guy," Haily said, drawing my attention.

"Yeah, I know. Let's just..."

"Ignore him? Okay... so are we going to that party?" Haily asked me as we turned and headed up the stairs.

"Probably," I replied, smiling at her. "We're still going to the game, right?"

"I plan on it. So does Caleb, but Joe might need some convincing."

"Joe?"

"He's been cranky lately. But, he doesn't have much more time to put in on his community service. I think he'll get better once it's over with."

I hummed in agreement and we walked to the locker we'd been sharing. I took a seat on the ground next to it and started to unload the books I'd taken home over the weekend while Haily wrestled with the lock. As soon as she opened it, she started grabbing her books, and it was probably a good thing she was distracted with that because she didn't notice the folded piece of notebook paper that fell from the locker and landed next to me. I grabbed for it immediately, not even looking it over before I shoved it into my pocket; and as I looked up at Haily, it occurred to me that I should probably warn Milo that I was sharing a locker with her, especially if he were going to make a habit out of this. I smiled at the thought. A habit. I had no idea what his note said yet but already it was making up for the way he'd disappeared on me the night before. A little.

"What are you smiling about?" Haily remarked, glancing down at me.

I shook my head and stood to switch books between the locker and my backpack. "Nothing. I'll see you at lunch?"

"Okay," Haily replied, and I started walking before I paused, and looked back at her.

"Brandon's right," I said. "You look nice today; you really shouldn't be stuck going to homecoming with me."

Haily cocked her head at me, but didn't get a chance to respond as I walked away. I'd meant what I said, though. I should never have agreed to go to homecoming with her. She deserved to go with someone who'd actually appreciate it when she put an effort into her appearance. She deserved someone who could appreciate her.

As soon as I was out of sight, I lifted Milo's note from my pocket, ready to know what he had to say for himself. Only, it wasn't a note at all. There was only one thing written on that piece of paper, and that, was a phone number.

"So I guess I earned this, but not a goodbye, huh?"

Milo was no less than startled when I snuck up right behind him and dropped his piece of notebook paper in his lap, where he sat at our table in Mrs. Bates's class. He turned brilliant green eyes up in my direction as he tugged at the collar of a new-looking black hooded sweatshirt; and as I took my seat next to him, lacking my usual smile, he was frowning at me when he lifted the piece of paper and placed it in front of us.

It was safe to say that despite what he'd left in my locker, some of my irritation was still present. I wasn't as upset, deciding that giving me his phone number was sign enough that he was still interested in some contact; but over the course of a very long day, I'd decided that some of Milo's hot-and-cold behavior was grating on my nerves. Especially the cold part.

"I thought..." he started, but then stopped as Tim passed by. We both greeted him, and then faced each other when Tim was safely in his seat, talking to someone else.

"You thought what?" I asked.

Milo narrowed his eyes on me. Another glare, no doubt. It was his cute, worried glare. I never thought that someone frowning could turn me on until I met him. But, I looked away, deciding to stay irritated.

"Do you think we could talk about this later?" he asked.

"When?"

"I don't know," he responded, and I swore that I could hear a note of sarcasm in his tone. "I thought maybe you could use this."

I watched his long fingers, which had been so perfectly wrapped around my cock less than twenty-four hours ago, slide the folded piece of notebook paper in front of me. I hesitated for a moment before I picked it up and shoved it in my backpack.

"Why don't you just come over after school?" I asked. I wasn't really a phone person.

"Because," he replied, bringing his voice to a near whisper, "I need... I want to talk to you while you're not... I mean, when you can't..."

I looked curiously over at Milo, regretting it immediately, because as soon as I saw the look on his face, any frustration leftover from him ditching me disappeared and I felt a slow smile curling my lips. I just couldn't stay mad at him, and god forbid if he ever figured that out. He was blushing again, ever so faintly, as he fidgeted with his hands, seeming unable to say what he wanted to say.

"Do I distract you, Milo?" I asked teasingly, and his eyes snapped sharply to mine. I chuckled.

"Shut up," he mumbled, and I rolled my eyes at him.

"Did you really wanna talk?" I asked, sobering, and he gave a nod.

"Okay," I said quietly. "I'll call tonight, but you better have something to say about the way you took off last night."

"I had to do that," he said quickly. I issued a challenging look to that statement that clearly said I thought he was full of shit. "Okay," he relented. "I freaked out. Look, this is... new to me."

My expression softened as he faced me seriously, and I let out a breath. "I know," I told him. "But the thing is, you're not the only one dealing with that."

Milo's lips parted, the beginning of a word escaping him before he closed his mouth and frowned, suddenly looking guilty, like a little boy who'd just been scolded. I almost felt bad about it. Almost.

Nothing more was said on the matter as Mrs. Bates started class, five minutes after the bell rang. Once again, I found myself hardly paying attention to anything she was saying as I idly tapped my pen over my notebook, thinking about Milo. If I made him feel guilty, he was just going to have to deal with that. Maybe all of this was new to him, but it's not like I had any clue about what I was doing, either. I suppose I was a little put off because what happened the night before should have meant something. At the time, it had. Yeah, getting off, literally, at the hands of the biggest crush I'd ever had was great and all, but while it was happening... I guess for a little while, I felt a little less lonely. It was nice to know that there was someone else there, who was just like me. It was nice to feel it. When I'd walked back into my room, I could practically feel myself glowing. But when I figured out that he was gone, all of it had seemed so pointless. It was like being abandoned. Left to wonder. I'm still fucking wondering, I thought, frowning as I looked over at him. He glanced up, meeting my eyes for a brief moment and graced me with a small smile. It was uncertain, but it was still a smile. I tried to return it, wondering if I'd ever figure out what I was going to do about him. I guess I'd just have to call him later and find out.

Or not.

I probably should have called. Milo had a point. It was hard to talk when all I wanted to do was touch him. When he was around, I felt like a dog with a new tennis ball. I didn't like being told that I could look at it, but not play with it.

But, I didn't call. In fact, I hadn't even been home to call. After school on Monday, I'd volunteered to take Joe down to the police department. I'd stopped in to say hi to Uncle Ray, who'd shaved off his red beard. I'd hardly recognized him when I saw him. He looked ten years younger. Under that beard had been a kind, approachable face with pink cheeks and a thin mouth. I doubted that he'd be intimidating any bad guys anytime soon, but I held off on telling him that. After a short visit with Ray, and even saying hello to Officer Trujillo, I'd intended to go home. But it seemed so much easier to go to Stratfort instead. I should have called, though. The look on Milo's face when he actually answered the door for once, said that I should have called. He let me come in, though. When I made a point to close his bedroom door, he'd mentioned that no one else was home, and then his eyes widened on me when the first thing I did was turn into him, planting the softest of kisses over his lips. I couldn't help it. He looked too cute standing there, ranting about how he'd teach me how to use a telephone if I wasn't aware of how easy it was to dial seven digits.

I could feel him glaring at my back when I headed over to his bed. It was made neatly, covered with his burgundy comforter. Only, his two pillows, clad in navy pillowcases were over the spread, rather than under it. Near them was a sketch pad, which is what I was going for. I ignored the colored pencils lying over the mattress as I climbed up and took the sketch pad into my lap, inspecting his latest work. I wasn't in this one, but it still caused me to raise an eyebrow at him. To my surprise, he shrugged rather than taking on his defensive stance. As he moved to sit at the foot of the bed, I looked back down at the sketch. It wasn't one I would have expected. My bedroom, in detail. He even remembered what order certain books had been in on the bookshelves. There was his jacket, which I still had in my car, hanging over my desk chair. The scarecrow portrait, looking blurred in this sketch. The only thing that was missing was most of my usual clutter. In fact, in the sketch my room looked tidy. Except for the bed. That was rumpled, sheets tangled, the pillow askew. It looked like someone had done more than slept in that bed. The night before, the real thing hadn't succumbed to such disarray, but I got the point.

When I put the book aside, and looked up, Milo was still perched on the foot of his bed, watching me.

"So what are we going to do?" I asked pointedly. "You know I don't mind chasing you, but it would be nice to know that you at least like it every once in a while."

"I don't want anyone to find out," Milo responded, and I frowned.

"Yeah, I got that."

"And I don't know what I'm doing... I like you."

"I got that, too," I replied, a small smile curling my lips. Milo looked away from me to stare at his closed bedroom door, and I took the moment to crawl over the bed and claim a seat next to him; and then, just to touch him, I fixed the tag sticking out of the back of his hooded shirt. He took in a breath as my fingers grazed his neck and my eyes went to his hand as it slid from his lap, and rested between our thighs. Despite my frustration with some of the things Milo did, I guess I had to admit that he did give me some signals, even if they were subtle ones. I slid my hand over his, and met his eyes when he finally looked at me. "Why'd you freak out last night?" I asked. "You just... left."

Milo shook his head. "It's stupid."

"Probably," I remarked. "But I'm still asking the question."

Milo was silent for a moment, pursing his lips. "I didn't know what to say to you," he finally said. "When you left for a minute, I just started thinking... that I didn't know what to say to you. When I got to your house, everything happened kinda fast... I didn't know what to say. I mean, we were supposed to say something, right? And then I started thinking, you know... what if we don't say anything. And then I started thinking about how weird that would be. And, I feel like I don't even know you. And last night... I've never done anything like that before."

"You think I have?" I remarked.

Milo looked at me pointedly. "I mean, never. Beyond kissing I haven't..." His brow went up, his expression searching for understanding.

"Never?" I repeated. "You dated all those girls. I mean... obviously, not the same, but..."

"Never," Milo repeated.

"Oh." Well, that blew my theory about Milo being an evasive slut out the window. Now he was an evasive virgin. Which, in all honesty, surprised me. I'd dated girls, too, and while I'd never actually felt the spark with them that I felt with Milo, it wasn't as if curiosity had never got the better of me. Or, alcohol for that matter. Like, with Teresa Milldrum. It was a little hard to believe that someone like Milo, who could likely have whoever he wanted, was untouched. Well, not exactly anymore, but still. "Was it okay?" I found myself asking. I was suddenly experiencing pressure that I hadn't felt last night. "I mean, did you like it?"

Milo's eyes widened slightly, and I had a feeling that once again he thought I was being too forward. "It was quick," he finally responded, once again looking rather embarrassed. But, that was probably because he was the one who was quick.

I smiled in response. "I kinda thought that was hot."

I watched the corners of Milo's mouth curl up ever so slightly as he looked away from me, and then to my surprise, he laughed. "You have no idea..."

"What?" I asked, grinning at him as I tightened my hand over his, drawing his attention back to me.

"I thought you would have expected... more."

"Me?"

He nodded. "You talk... you act like you do this kind of thing all the time."

"I told you that you were the only gay guy I've ever met," I replied, confused.

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter. It's like nothing bothers you--you're kinda intimidating. I don't always know... how to be around you."

"Yeah, well I don't always know if you want to be around me," I replied. "There's a lot of mixed signals there, Milo. I don't know what to think. I like you, too. But... what would you even say to me if I asked you out? Or if I said that I wanted to do something with you, go somewhere... or just pick a specific time and place to see you."

"I don't know," he replied quietly, after several moments of consideration.

"Are you really that worried about someone figuring us out if we start spending time together?"

"I can't be out, Nelson."

"What if I promised that you wouldn't be?" I asked. "Not if we're careful."

"You can't make promises like that," he said, shaking his head.

"Then what if I showed you? I mean, that it's not the big deal you think it is where everyone else is concerned."

"How?" he asked, looking suspicious.

"The football team's throwing a spirit rally tomorrow night. Come with me."

He laughed. "You want me to go to a school function with you?"

"Yeah."

Milo shook his head. "A spirit rally?"

I smirked. "Yeah, and maybe afterwards, you can show me how much spirit you have," I teased, and Milo's eyes widened right before he elbowed me, likely trying to distract me from the blush creeping over his face. "Just don't disappear this time," I added.

His smile faded at that, and he studied me for a long moment.

"Thanks for letting me stay last night," he finally said, and if I didn't know any better, I'd say that his voice seemed a little shaky. "I did... I did like it."

Why that was so difficult for him to say, I couldn't understand. But, I certainly did appreciate hearing it. He even gave me a shy smile when I reached out and brushed away a strand of his hair that felt light and soft against my fingertips. He met my eyes and I watched as his clouded over while he licked at his lips. He started to lean forward, but caught himself, seeming uncertain as he looked at me. I caught his chin with my index finger gently, and guided him forward until his eyes closed and his mouth came into soft contact with mine. I parted my lips, and he mimicked the gesture. Our tongues briefly made contact before he pulled away, his mouth drawing into a kiss against my thumb when I traced his lips with it and rested my forehead gently against his. I smiled at the way he was meeting my eyes easier now, unwavering, the way he had the first time I'd ever seen his face.