Confessions of the Gay and Confused

By: Ailenat

Note: Title is likely to change.

Ch. 1: Guys have it hard

“Tech, you want pizza or Chinese?” my brother, 3 years older, at 19, yelled at me from the bottom of the stairs.

I popped my head out from the door of my room, situated right above the scratched, dark brown, oak staircase and frowned.

I gripped the plain white wall of my room, in case my wheelie chair decided to wheel me across the hallway and down the stairs.

I guess I’m kind of used to mom always going away on business trips or rather her “personal” business trips. Really, what I’m trying to get at is, she has these love affairs that she feels we’re too young to know about. Despite the fact we’re 16 and 19 and have masturbated to dozens of porn pictures.

Maybe that was too much information. I was never one for too much subtlety. What my mom does is, she goes away when we’re at school and leaves a note with money to order out for about a week. Then, she comes back, stays a week and then leaves again.

Now, however, she’s kind of extended her week vacations to months at a time. I would think Rob, my brother, would have learned how to cook by now.

“Pizza,” I said, and added as an afterthought, “extra cheese.” Sometimes, we’ve just got to live life a little and it starts with a little cheese and a little optimism.

Hearing the faint, muffled orders of pizza, I hurried downstairs and grabbed the remote control before Rob could.

Like a Cheshire cat, I grinned at him, triumphant, switching to “Bridget Jones’ Diary,” a semi-old movie that was playing on Movie Central.

“You know there’s something wrong when a man would rather watch this than hockey,” my brother grumbled teasingly as he plopped himself down on the couch.

I knew though, by how his eyes were glued to the wide screen T.V that he liked it too.

“Bitch,” he mumbled when the boss guy was found with another girl in the washroom.

I laughed and had to get up from the couch to get the door when the doorbell rang. Once Rob was on the couch, he became a couch potato and wouldn’t be moved by a live python snake.

The doorbell kept ringing continually, each one louder and more impatient than the last. I growled irritably.

“Coming!” I shouted, walking briskly to the door. The person behind the door hesitated and rang the doorbell one last time.

I unlatched the lock and swung the door open angrily, 20 dollars in hand, expecting a greasy-faced, pimpled freshman with a ratty pizza delivery hat.

I almost dropped the money in surprise and held back a squeak when I stared face first into amused ice-blue eyes. Jake.

I lowered my eyes, biting my lips nervously. Fuck. I thought and tried to walk away without any physical contact.

“Why hello,” He smirked, brushing past me, hands lightly squeezing my thighs, suggestively, yet discreetly. Squeezing so lightly and quickly, it could have been mistaken for a simple brush in a crowded hallway.

Except that there was no one else in the hallway…in a hallway that could fit 6 people.

I flinched and moved farther away. He either ignored my fleeting glares of disgust or he didn’t notice.

Trudging behind him, I watched Jake and my brother greet each other with a raise of their hands. No words were spoken as Jake sat down on the sofa where I was sitting.

Scowling, I moved to the couch next to the coffee table, situated at the center of the T.V room. Stretching my feet forward, they crashed noisily on the glass surface of the table.

I grinned sheepishly back at the annoyed face of Rob and the well…amused and mysterious grin of Jake.

I shifted around and got comfortable on the soft beige coloured cushions, causing the black t-shirt I was wearing to ride up on my stomach.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jake glancing over. I shivered. His stares scared the shit out of me.

I pulled down my shirt and blushed like mad. I swear, I must have looked like a tomato.

Just as everybody was focused on the T.V screen and Renee Zillweger’s almost see-through top, I took the time to study everybody.

Jake was staring intently at the screen, squinting his eyes as if it would help make her top disappear. Not that she looked particularly hot in that movie.

He stood a height of 6 feet and had a swimmer build, slender and muscular and tan. His eyes were a piercing blue and hair a striking blue-black.

His girlfriend seems the ideal candidate for a Barbie look-alike. Except her hair was cropped to her shoulders and had freckles sprinkling her nose. From the times she’s been over at our house, I can already tell she’s a real bitch.

Yeah, he has a girlfriend. It’s fucked up. I’m not sure if they’re dating anymore. I just haven’t seen her around lately. He always seems to go for the extremely pretty, ditzy, easy-to-get girls and then dumps them every few weeks. I guess you could say he’s a player, but Rob assured me he doesn’t sleep with ALL of them.

Rob, my big brother. He looks slightly like me I guess. Gray eyes, blonde hair, skinny build, except that he’s more muscular. I’m shorter, kind of like an elf, without the pointed ears. I don’t look particularly good in green though. It makes my skin look horribly white and blotchy, like sour, expired milk.

Hearing the loud, shrill sound of the doorbell, ricocheting around walls until reaching my ear, I groaned, untangling myself from my cozy couch.

“Nah, don’t bother,” I heard Rob say cheerfully, as he got up for the pizza delivery guy.

Panic filled my eyes, and I replied quickly, a high-pitched tone behind my carefully practiced casual voice.

“ ‘sokay,” I said, ready to get up. Like hell I’m being left in a room with Jake. Even for a few minutes. Please, please, please don’t leave me with him.

He didn’t reply and just got up to get the doorbell, which was being rung a second time, a distant, muffled voice saying “Pizza,” from behind the door.

I sighed and lowered myself back into the couch. I looked up and noticed him glancing over at the same time. He licked his lips and smirked at me, in a manner I HOPE wasn’t seductive. It sure bordered on it though. An emotion flickered across his eyes and disappeared.

Biting my lips, I glanced back down, blushed and resumed watching the movie.

Silence ensued and only the faint conversation between Rob and the pizza guy, the loud bickering on the T.V and soft ticking of the clock above the set could be heard.

I heard a soft grunt emit from his lips, as if he was about to start a conversation, but at the last minute decided against it. It was low, kind of a cross between an agitated moan and a shaky sigh.

Pursing my lips, I glanced down at my legs and feet. They were long, lanky and a pale colour.

I frowned, twisting them around to look at my ankles, which were so friggin’ big they seemed like someone stuffed an apple into my leg. EwwI wrinkled my nose. I think up the worse similes.

“Pepperoni Pizza, everyone!” Rob’s loud voice echoed into the room, disturbing the silence, albeit awkward, it was better than Rob’s all too happy-go-lucky voice.

His cheery smile and twinkling gray eyes entered the room, arms carrying a big cardboard box.

“I’m vegetarian, you bitch,” Jake joked, reaching for a pizza and picking off the toppings.

“No one told you to eat it,” Rob grinned, settling down next to him and reaching for a pizza as well.

I rolled my eyes and took a pizza too. I curled on the couch, folding my legs in front of me.

Taking a bite of the pizza, I ran my tongue along my lips, wrapping the cheese around my finger and slowly peeling it off with my teeth. It was my way of eating pizza ever since I was young.

I looked up to find Jake staring intensely at me. Raising an eyebrow in inquisition, I waited for an excuse.

“Pass—“ Jake cleared his throat, blue eyes clouding over. “Pass the drinks.” He finished huskily.

I took the 2-litre Coke that was beside me and passed it to him. Reaching for it, his fingers brushed my wrist, lingering on the palm of my hand. I pulled away quickly.

The bottle fell to the ground. I cast my eyes downward and took another bite of my food and looked at the T.V.

After finishing my dinner, I left to go upstairs. No point in staying. I rushed up the stairs and closed the door to my room.

“X2, so if x59(3x75) y…. x squared?” I growled in frustration. Just as I was about to place my blue ballpoint pen, the tip chewed to a grayish scrunched blob, the phone rang.

Letting it ring for at least 2 rings, I picked it up.

“Tech! I’m finished with soccer practice. Coming over in 5 seconds.” A rushed voice shouted into the phone between pants, and the sound of feet running.

“What?” I asked only to be met with the dial tone. I rolled my eyes, sitting down, waiting for the doorbell to ring.

Just as said, the doorbell rang in about 5 seconds. I grinned and I sprinted downstairs, taking two steps at a time. Skidding on the rug, I flung the door open and smiled at the flustered red head in front of me.

“Your late,” I said sternly to Ryan, who stood, brushing sweat off his brow, brushing his dark red hair back. He usually arrives around 7:00 and it was 7:34 right now.

“Coach kept us in. Said something about proper behaviour and putting beetles in the soccer equipment was not proper…..or something.” He shrugged and grinned sheepishly.

I rolled my eyes. Ryan was on the school soccer team, which only sported the best players in the school. The athletic, tall and handsome more likely. Which, ironically, Ryan was not. JOKING. But then, I’m a guy. I’m not supposed to think a guy’s cute….or hot…or anything.

I’m a guy! It’s not right. I mean, I have nothing with gays and stuff. But I’m not. I’m not gay or anything. Guys are allowed to NOTICE a guy’s hot or something, right? It’s called knowing your competition.

“Where’s Mel?” I asked looking around. Melissa’s Ryan’s girlfriend, the pretty, next-door-neighbour girl. She’s got brown hair and blue eyes and is probably the coolest girl I know, which isn’t saying a lot because I don’t have a lot of friends that are girls. She was also my other best friend before they got together. Now she’s best friend and best friend’s girlfriend.

“She has a family dinner. I don’t get why we’re not invited though,” he wrinkled his freckled nose.

I laughed. “Its called family dinner for a reason dumbass.”

We headed into the kitchen for something to eat while Ryan kept rambling on.

“There’s this party, next week, on Saturday,” he said vaguely, waiting for me to ask more about it. After about 10 seconds and no response from me, (reason because I’m not interested in knowing) he continued.

“I thought maybe Mel, you and I would go….since I already told Henry you guys were coming.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake Ryan. You know I hate those parties your soccer buddies have.” I guess you can tell I’m not very social with Ryan’s whole soccer team, or any other people who host wild parties, potheads and shit. I just don’t like wild parties, sweaty drunk people thinking they’re all that because they are at a party and are hold plastic cups of beer.

“C’mon,” he whined, staring at me with puppy dog eyes, “I hate going to parties by myself.” I fished for two cokes in the fridge, opening one and passing the other to Ryan.

“Mel will go.”

“No she won’t, and you know she won’t. If the two of us go, she’ll go, please?”

I stared at Ryan. After his growth spurt and voice change and shit, girls started clambering for him and somehow he hit the top step of the ladder of popularity. It’s a wonder why he hasn’t ditched us yet.

“Maybe,” I answered and walked over to the living room, where Jake and Rob were watching T.V.

I decided turning around and going back upstairs before they noticed me when Ryan came up behind me and said “Hey Jake, Rob, Is that pizza?”

The little fucker.

Jake turned around and stared at me. Finally he noticed Ryan and smiled, giving Ryan a small wave.

“How’s it going Ryan?” he asked, however, his eyes stayed on me, the ice blue intensity boring holes through my skull.

Rob gestured to the pizza. “All yours, bro.”

“Alright,” and Ryan jumped over and landed on my couch, grabbing a pizza. Of course, since Ryan grabbed my seat, I had nowhere to sit. My eyes skimmed the room and settled on sitting on the floor next to Ryan.

“Hey Tech, There’s a place here.” Jake’s voice cut through the air and I gulped as I turned to see him patting the empty place on the three seat sofa next to him.

“Ahh….It’s ok.”

“Just sit Tech, your ruining T.V time.” Rob said impatiently, trying to concentrate on the screen.

I scowled at him and moved slowly, like an injured snail, (if snails do get injured….or like their shell gets broken?) and languidly sat down, trying to move as far away from Jake, which was hard, what with two 6 feet guys sitting in a little sofa.

His shoulder brushed mine and he moved slightly closer. Tensing up, I glanced briefly at him. His eyes were still glued to the screen, which was showing this hockey thing…game, who the hell cares? (no offence to hockey fans) His lips were parted rather sensuously.

Oh fucking God, I’m messed up. NO! Not sensuously……oh fuck.

His hand strayed the space between our thighs, just a little closer…then…then what?

I shook myself of these thoughts. Oh fuck. Somehow, his leg had circled underneath mine, so that his foot was between my right and left.

I jumped up.

“I got to….It’s really crowded on this sofa and—“ I trailed off.

“No shit,” Rob mumbled, turning the volume on higher. Damn couch potato.

“I’m gonna go sit next to Ryan,” I muttered and moved to sit on the ground.

Ryan looked down, slightly concerned. “You alright?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I mumbled.

Who knew hockey games lasted so long? By the time it was over, my butt hurt like a bitch and my eyes felt dry and itchy. Every time I closed my eyes it seemed like the puck was flying towards me.

The tortures guys have to endure. And girls say they have it hard.

Author’s note: Alright, my first chapter. Please review, any suggestions for the story is appreciated. I hope you readers like it.