Kissing Boys

Chapter 3: Shake It Like A Polaroid Picture

“I can’t believe you retched! That’s . . . so icky!” Frankie squealed. He said it in a way that if you got an incredibly girly girl to say it, he’d still sound more girly than her. But seriously, can they really blame me?! I thought they were fucking each other senseless.

“Yeah, I can’t believe you couldn’t tell we were just messing with you!”

Why was this bitch still here? Shouldn’t he be fondling his straightener? Does he ever go home, or does he think he lives here?! I’d rather deal with Frankie alone, because it’s one less gay guy.

“Okay, whatever! Joke’s over! So shut the fuck up!” My temper never seemed to faze them. It’s like they were immune to my pissed-off-ness. How much longer in this prison again?

“But I still can’t believe—“ Nathan started, but I wasn’t going to let him finish.

“Just drop it, cock-guzzler!”

Um—okay, I seriously hadn’t meant to say that out loud. But hey, it shut him up and that’s all that matters. Well, actually he was looking at me in an “oh no you didn’t” kind of way. You know, putting his hand on his hip and popping it out to the side all while glaring at me through his creepily made up eyes. Personally, I thought he looked constipated. Was I supposed to be scared of him?! What was he going to do, bitch slap me?!

“Well, I’m not going to deny that,” he said, briefly putting his hand over his mouth and giggling. “But there are nicer ways to say it, you know.”

“I’m not a nice person, maybe you should deal with it!” Yeah, take that bitch! What do you have to say for yourself now?!

“You have such an attitude . . . and it really turns me on,” he said, putting his finger to the corner of his mouth.

Okay, does he think he looks sexy?! He reminded me of a 50-year-old guy making up his mind about which minor to prey on. Well, maybe not, but I just like that comparison.

“Go screw yourself!” I wanted to go back into my room and hide from them for the rest of the day, but that wasn’t going to happen. Before I could even get a step away, Frankie springs off the sofa and latches onto me. Get it off! Get. It. Off!

“Oh no, no, no! Where do you think you’re going, gay-briel? We have a fun day ahead of us!” Frankie said, dragging me back to the homo lair. I pretended I didn’t hear him queerify my name by putting emphasis on the first bit. He probably just wanted a reaction!

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I was almost afraid to ask. All these horrible visions flooded my brain. And they all involved makeup in some way, shape, or form.

Frankie grinned, “We’re going shopping!”

Nathan clapped and squealed excitedly while I stared blankly, desperately hoping he was kidding. If they wanted to go on a little gay adventure to the mall, couldn’t they do that without me? But of course they were dead set on making my life a fiery inferno of super gayness.

“You have to look good for all the boys at the party, Gabie,” Frankie said as he made me severely uncomfortable by tracing little circles on my arm. I cringed away and took a giant step to the left, only to have my personal space totally raped again.

“What the hell do you mean by that?!” I said, tensing up as he wrapped his creepy little arms around me.

“I mean you have to look good for all the boys at the party. You’ve got to represent, duh!”

I arched an eyebrow, “Represent what?” I asked, tonelessly.

“The attractiveness of your family, Gabie-kins,” Nathan chimed in.

I squirmed out of Frankie’s grip and sat down on the couch, squishing myself as far into the corner as possible. I could just imagine what kind of stuff they’d make me wear. A sudden image of Ricky Martin popped into my mind. I would not look good in those pants . . .

“Yeah, and you certainly can’t represent in those clothes,” Frankie said, giving me a once over.

I looked down at my white band shirt and normal fitting denim jeans. “What the hell is wrong with my clothes?” I asked trying not to sound at all offended. If there was one thing I knew about gay guys, it was that they tended to be brutally honest with things. At least, the very few that I came into contact with sure as hell were.

“I don’t know, it just screams . . . ‘I’m totally not emo, but definitely scene’ and we can’t have that!”

Scene?! What the hell, where did he get that from?! I don’t believe I walk around with colorful hair and all that other crap they wear. “Okay, says the guy who prances around in girl pants. Yeah, I should just listen to your Queer Eye for the Straight Guy antics!”

“Oh my God! I love that show!” Nathan screeches as he slides over to me. “That sounds like so much fun! You have to let us do it!” I could feel my eye twitch as his thigh rested against mine.

“He has no choice!” Frankie sat on the arm of the couch, entrapping me. I could feel the hyperventilation coming on. He started stroking my hair, but I slapped his hand away. I’ll have to remember to lather, rinse, and repeat.

“You can’t force me to do anything!” Seriously, what were they going to do? Tie me up and throw me in the trunk? I almost wouldn’t be surprised.

“Please, Gabie? It’s no fun sitting inside all day!” Frankie said, caressing my leg. Shoving his hand away proved to be futile, since he just kept doing it. I wondered if they touched anyone else like this or if they were just sadists and liked to see me suffer.

“Yeah! We promise you’ll have fun,” Nathan said, twisting my hair around his finger.

“All right!” I shoved both their hands away, trying not to seem as freaked out about their touchy feely-ness. “If I go then you have to promise to stop fucking touching me!”

Frankie cheered in his usual extremely gay way and leaped off the couch.

“We can’t make any promises,” Nathan said, leaning in and kissing much too close to my lips before getting up and following Frankie.

I stared, my eyes so wide they felt like they were about to fall out and too stunned to even yell at the little fudge-packer. I rubbed the corner of my lips vehemently, praying the gay germs didn’t settle in already.

That’s it. I’m not going.

I knew Harriet had to be in on everything! I clearly gave her a silent plea for her to let me stay home while they went to their little gay paradise without me. But no, she thought it was a “fantastic idea for me to tag along.”

It hadn’t even been twenty minutes before I started to loathe life even more than before. Frankie and Nathan wouldn’t shut the hell up about what store they wanted to go to, so they kept disagreeing. I obviously had no say, so all I could do was block out their annoying argument and wait for the torture to start.

“You can’t pick his clothes, because you’re emo!” Nathan whined.

“You know I hate that term! And I think I know what my own cousin would look good in!”

Considering they were on each side of me, blocking out their argument was pretty much useless. That, and the fact that they were kind of yelling in my ears. Though I was starting to think I was slowly, but not acceptingly, getting used to them. I still felt like I was being led to Satan by his two favorite butt buddies.

“We can compromise. How about half his outfit here and the other half you can choose?” Nathan proposed, smiling triumphantly at his superb plan.

“Okay, deal!” Frankie grinned and they shook hands, as if that just totally made it official. But then it hit me. If half of what I was being forced to wear was going to be chosen by Frankie, I had a terrifyingly high chance of walking out of there with pants meant for a female. God must hate me.

We stood outside of Abercrombie and Fitch, which I was pretty sure the place was Nathan’s heaven. I had never been in the store before, but in all honesty, I trusted Nathan’s judgment way more than Frankie’s. Frankie’s was just plain scary.

“Let’s go!” Nathan sang as he happily dragged me in the store, the booming techno music making it kind of difficult to hear.

I got an overpowering whiff of perfume or cologne and it made my nose feel like it was burning from the inside out. I was actually surprised that didn’t ward customers off. But hey, at least some of this stuff looked okay.

“Ooh, Gabie would look nice in this!” Nathan said, stopping to look at a dark gray polo.

Frankie checked the price and gasped. “Sixty dollars for one little polo? These prices are a tad crazy.”

“Hey! You have to pay to look this good,” Nathan said, running his hands down his chest.

“Of course, what was I thinking?! You’re just so irresistible in your little turquoise A&F tee!” Frankie said, as if he suddenly remembered the answer to an obvious question.

“Damn right I am!”

Ugh, God, even though I’m for some reason on your shit list, please make them stop.

Since I didn’t show any interest when they asked my opinion on what I thought was nice, they just handed me a whole bunch of different crap to try on. I expected at least one of them to try and be in the changing room with me, but I was pleasantly surprised when I realized I had even just a few moments away from the queers.

I just stared at the massive pile of clothing, sure that it was over the number of garments allowed. I could always pretend I tried them on, and say I hated them all. But that probably wouldn’t work and then I’d have to waste even more time pretending to try things on.

I hesitantly opened the door, peering out to see if there was any sign of either one of them. The coast was clear! Without thinking, I ran blindly towards freedom, barely hearing the girl up front telling me to have a nice day. I kept running, receiving strange looks from everyone. I slowed once I turned the corner, even glancing back just in case they might have seen me and decided to come after me.

I didn’t even know where I was going, and eventually I’d have to meet up with them anyway, since they were my only way back home. But I thought I’d take advantage of this blissful alone time away from them. Who knew when that would happen again?!

I was in such a happy state of mind that I didn’t even realize someone was right in my path until it was a bit too late. Whoever I bumped into stumbled and I stopped, almost afraid to look at who it was, fearing it may be some huge guy that just got out of prison or some other scary scenario.

“What the—Gabriel?!” a clearly female voice exclaimed.

I turned, surprised to hear my name said correctly. “Natalie?!” We stood and stared dumbly at each other. The last time I saw her was freshmen year. The year we confessed that we liked each other via IM . . . which was pretty lame when I thought about it.

“I thought you moved . . .” I finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

She smiled, “We did, but we just moved back. Well, me and my Mom. California wasn’t for us.”

I had no idea what I was feeling, but I felt like a fourteen-year-old freshmen again. Though at the same time, it was still a bit awkward. We hadn’t exactly spoken since our IM confession. I never thought I’d see her again, and I was pretty sure she thought the same thing. I could tell it wasn’t any less awkward for her than it was for me. If her shifting from each foot wasn’t a giveaway.

“So . . . what are you doing up in Seattle?” she asked, tucking pale blonde hair behind her ear.

I shrugged, “Staying with family for the summer.” And being tortured relentlessly by two gay guys who get off on my unhappiness.

“Oh, that’s cool . . . me and my Mom are just here because the malls are better than the ones in Tacoma.”

I nodded and more awkward silence soon followed. It really sucked that I could barely hold a conversation with the one girl I liked throughout high school, even when she was gone. And now that she was actually in front of my face, I just kind of wished I had stayed in that dressing room and went with my original plan.

She cleared her throat, “So are you with anyone, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“No!” I replied, a little too quickly and just a bit too loudly. “Are you?” I asked, feeling like an even bigger idiot than before.

“No,” she said. “Well, I was but I don’t like long distance relationships, so I had to break it off.”

“Oh.”

Wow. That kind of made me feel like a loser. I didn’t even have one girlfriend throughout high school. Hopefully I didn’t seem too excited when I answered her.

“Natalie, let’s go!” her mom, I’m assuming, called and I was strangely relieved.

“Okay!” she called back, but turned to me again. “I know we haven’t talked in like . . . three years, but I want to give you my number . . . if you want.”

“Oh, yeah . . .” I said, grabbing my phone from my pocket and handing it to her. I watched her punch it in and save it, then she handed it back to me and smiled.

“Talk to you later . . .”

I waved lamely after her and stared at her retreating form. Texting I could live with, I wasn’t too good with face-to-face conversations. But at least Frankie and Nathan weren’t with me. I could imagine how much more uncomfortable they would have made the situation. Natalie probably would have thought I was gay!

Which I’m not. Nor will I ever be.

Since I pulled my little disappearing act, they picked the clothes out for me and refused to let me see them right up until the moment I was supposed to wear them. I was almost beyond the point of caring, but that one little bit of me was still a little freaked out. What if they got so mad that I left that they made it incredibly gay? Even gayer than them?!

“I’m so excited! Do you think he’ll actually wear it?!” Nathan asked, as if I weren’t right there.

“He better! That damn shirt was eighty dollars!” Frankie said.

“Uh, you guys didn’t even tell me where you’re forcing me to go,” I interrupted.

They looked at each other and giggled like it was some kind of inside joke. I always hated being left out of the joke, even if it was a gay one.

“It’s a surprise! But we promise you will have fun,” Frankie attempted to assure me.

“That’s what you said earlier, but I didn’t have fun at all . . .”

Nathan rolled his eyes and shoved me towards the bathroom. “Just shut up and get your sexy ass in those clothes!”

He slammed the door shut before I could react in any way.

I guess I had to give them some credit. The clothes they ended up picking didn’t resemble Ricky Martin at all, thank the Gods. It was obvious Nathan picked the shirt, seeing as it was the only thing from Abercrombie. It was one of those plaid button up shirts in navy blue, the sleeves rolled up to the bend in the arm.

Since I already expected Frankie to pick tight fitting jeans, it didn’t surprise me when I realized they were skinny jeans. But I was surprised to find that they were actually intended for dudes. It was just kind of weird since I wasn’t used to the fabric so close to my legs . . .

I would never admit it to them out loud, but they did a good job, and the assholes knew they did. Now all I had to worry about was, well, their reaction when I went back out there, and wherever they were making me go. I was never really a partier, which I also would never admit to them out loud. But I figured it would be better than staying here . . . watching Lifetime with Harriet.

I gave myself one last mental preparation before opening the door and walking out to the living room with my eyes glued to the floor.

“Oh my God!” They shrieked in unison and I cringed.

“Gabie, you look so good!” Nathan gushed.

I shrugged, still keeping my eyes on the floor and telling myself that the only reason my face feels like its on fire is because of the humiliation of being stared at like a zoo animal.

“I am going to be beating the boys away once they get a look at you!” Frankie said, jumping up and down all hyperactively.

“Shut up . . .” I mumbled.

“Aw, he’s embarrassed!” Nathan said in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Then they ‘awwed’ in unison, tormenting me even further. “Can we just go?!” I snapped.

“Well o-kay, Mr. Grouchy!” Frankie said, grabbing his Hello Kitty car keys. “Bye mom! Be back later!” he called.

“Okay! Have fun!”

Yeah, I wasn’t going to get my hopes up on that one.

I was definitely not surprised about my current situation, but I was feeling a mix of horror, betrayal, and violation all at once. Frankie and Nathan really did get off on my pain. So now here I was, the only straight guy at a gay party.

I didn’t even know whose house this was, since they totally failed to tell me anything! And to make things worse, they both disappeared into the intimidating crowd of queers! Now I was wandering around, feeling completely out of place. So much for “beating the guys away,” Frankie! Not that I needed him anyway, I was perfectly capable of fending for myself.

I pushed my way passed some guys making out, trying really hard not to stare. Sloppy public displays of affection always kind of freaked me out. I sat down on the couch, making sure to face away from the obviously horny couple behind me.

I looked around, feeling really uncomfortable about everyone else’s familiarity with each other. Then there was me, the guy that nobody knows and who doesn’t know anyone else. I felt like the only geek on the football team. If the football team was full of gay guys.

“Hey, what’s your name?” a sudden voice right in my ear asked.

I tried not to look too startled or too horrified. He was probably the least outrageous looking guy there. He had a blond crew cut, and was more built than half the guys. Almost like he just got back from the military. What the hell was he doing here?!

“Gabriel . . .” I answered, trying to inch away from his closeness. “You?” I asked just to be polite. It’s not like I really cared what his name was.

“Keith,” he responded. He took a drink from . . . whatever the hell he was drinking.

And I thought the awkwardness with Natalie was unbearable. It’s even creepier with a guy I barely know. Maybe he’d get bored and walk away.

“You want a drink?” he asked, holding the strong smelling beverage right under my nose.

“Uh, no thanks, I . . . don’t drink,” I said, pushing his hand away. Especially from random guys who I’ve only said a sentence to. And girls are always told not to take open beverages, so I’m sure that applies to guys too.

“What?! You’re at a party but you’re not going to drink?” he said, once again getting a bit too close to my face. I cringed at his dorito/liquor breath.

“No . . . I never really was into drinking,” I confessed, but it didn’t matter since he seemed like he was about a mile away from sobriety. Chances were he wouldn’t even remember this conversation tomorrow.

“But you look really tense!” he enunciated the last bit of that sentence, resulting in his spit flying in my face. I wiped it away, not bothering to hide my disgust. “A few drinks of this and you’ll feel way better!”

I eyed the bottle in his hand. I had always been curious, and I was pretty tense. I’d just take a few sips . . . just enough to make me feel relaxed.

What’s the worst that could happen?

I didn’t know when exactly this happened, but I found myself incredibly happy. Every song that played made me want to dance and sing even if I didn’t know the words. But once each of them ended, I found it kind of difficult to walk. So now some guy . . . what was his name? Who knows?! Had to wrap my arm around his shoulder so I wouldn’t do a face plant on the floor.

“I think you’ve had enough . . .” what’s-his-face said.

“It’s nev-r e-nuff!” I shouted.

But what’s-his-face took it away from me. I said something even I didn’t understand and I think I started crying. It’s kind of hard to tell since everything sort of went black . . .

I woke up the next day sprawled on the living room floor. Not to mention the worst headache in the world. I winced in pain as I sat up, feeling like my head was about to explode.

“Look who’s awake!” Frankie said, and I could tell he was amused.

“What time is it?” I mumbled.

“1:00 PM, I think someone partied too hard . . .” Nathan smirked.

“Whatever,” I would have thought of something better to say just then, but then I realized I felt too . . . bare. I looked down and my headache was suddenly numbed by overpowering horrific shock. “Okay, where the fuck is my shirt, and who the fuck is Demitri?!” I shouted, glaring down at the name and number scrawled messily in sharpie across my stomach.

Frankie and Nathan giggled to themselves and I turned my death glare to them.

“Who the fuck is that?!” I demanded.

“A cute little blond boy you were flirting with the whole time,” Nathan said. “I was almost jealous, but he was so adorable!”

Remembering that last one they pulled on me, I decided not to believe them. I stood, immediately regretting it as the harsh pain of my headache came back full force. “Nice try, but I’m not falling for your stupid jokes. There’s no way in hell I was flirting with a dude!”

“The funny thing is, we’re not joking, Gabie,” Frankie said. “We’re not the ones who got too crazy! I can remember that entire night. Can’t say much for you, now can we, Mr. Party Monster?”

I groaned, “Fuck you both . . .”

As I turned to stumble back to my room, I could hear their despised laughter. At that moment I felt too shitty to deal with them. I’d get them back later.

Then they’d be sorry. Yeah.

A/N: Uh… so it’s been like… one year since I even updated this. Wow… I have no words. I give you guys permission to kick my ass or maybe even keep me prisoner in your basement while forcing me to write. Sound like a plan if I don’t update in shorter timeframes? Good!

I love each and every one of you for reviewing. Hopefully I haven’t lost you all O_O