Page 2 of Taking Care of You
Ethan and I were never going to happen. But I like watching him discreetly from across the room. I’m not trying to be creepy, I just like knowing he’s there.
Okay, that is creepy. But not in a stalker sort of way. I just like to make sure he’s okay. I’m not sure why it matters if he is or not, but it does. Seeing him hang with friends and laugh and have a good time makes me feel like he’s not struggling. He hasn’t asked me to check on his well-being, but sometimes when I look at him, I get the impression that no one has asked after him ina long time. That he’s…lonely. I don’t know him well enough to know if that’s true, but it’s a gut feeling I have when I look at him.
At the moment, he’s in the corner with the other football players, right beside the keg. He’s had the same cup in his hand for the past thirty minutes, sipping from it pretty infrequently. His beer is probably more than lukewarm by now, but he hasn’t refilled his cup. It’ll be one of the nights he’s taking it easy.
Most of the time he does. I’ve only ever seen him get almost black-out drunk twice, and it was after the football team lost state last year, and after he broke up with the head cheerleader, Dawn. She wasn’t right for him, so I’m not sure why he was so upset.
I scoff, realizing my thoughts have firmly gone down creeper territory.
To be fair, Dawn has no depth. I’m not speaking from a place of jealousy when I say that. She’s the cheerleader stereotype; the most popular girl in school, but she’s also super mean. She makes Regina George look like a saint.
Ethan could do better. I’ve never really talked to him to know for sure if he could.
Okay, so I haven’t talked to him at all. People don’t tend to look at me. Their eyes kind of just slide over me when they glance around. I don’t mind being invisible. It’s better than getting my ass beat for liking men.
"That doesn’t matter, Crys,” I tell her, dragging my eyes away from Ethan and shoving my hands in my back pockets. “I’m not paying him any attention.”
“Umm hmm,” she hums. “You ready to go?”
“Are you?” She only asks me that when she wants to stay a bit longer but knows mypeople meteris running low. I know she wants to stay, so I usually stick around far longer than I want to.
She shrugs, trying to be nonchalant, but I know her. “I mean, Jenna asked me to sit out back with her for a bit while she smokes the blunt she got from her brother. But I’ll leave if you’re ready.”
I’m definitely not going out there. I don’t care if people get high, but it’s not my thing. I don’t like the idea of my head being floaty or being so hungry I eat a bunch of bullshit because of a drug. I don’t like anything that will alter my behavior. I see too much of that at home.
I nudge her, pushing her in the direction of the back door. “Go. I’m good. Come find me when you’re ready to go.”
Crystal smiles at me and walks towards the back of the house. I look around and notice the party is getting more lively.
This is the part I hate the most. Too many people without enough inhibitions. There have been too many occasions where the bi-curious boys have tried to come on to me and use me as an experiment. I’m not that guy. I’m waiting for the person that wants to be with me, not a quick fuck.
I got caught up once, sucking a jock off during the summer, a few weeks after my eighteenth birthday. After it was over, he acted as if he didn’t know me at the next party. He didn’t even look in my direction, pretending he didn’t push up on me until his dick was halfway down my throat. It makes me glad that I didn’t let him fuck me, even though he begged. I would have been shattered if I shared something that special with him, only to be ignored the next time we met.
After that incident, I told myself I wouldn’t do anything like that again. I would only give myself to someone that wasn’t ashamed to be with me.
With so many people getting more reckless, I kick myself for saying I wasn’t ready to leave.
I push off the counter to go to the back of the house. Even if I don’t sit outside with Crystal while they’re getting high, I can beby the door so we can leave as soon as she comes inside. I mean, how long could it take to smoke a joint between two or more people?
While I’m making my way across the room, Ethan almost brushes against me as he heads to the front door. I stop in the middle of the room as I stare at his back. This urge I can’t describe is telling me to go after him, to check on him and make sure he’s okay.
But why would I do that? He’ll think I was weird or worse for stalking after him for…what?
Indecision wars in me as I’m rooted to the spot. I chance a quick glance through the sliding glass doors at the back of the house, but I don’t see Crystal amongst the people that are gathered around a fire pit.
Fuck, what do I do?
Plucking up courage from I don’t know where, I follow Ethan out the door.
He’s a few paces ahead of me, but since we’re on a dead-end street, I know he can only be heading in one direction. I pick up my pace, hoping to catch him before he gets too far away.
I catch a glimpse of his white T-shirt as he rounds the corner at the end of the block. I break into a light jog so I don’t lose him.
Even though my brain is screaming at me to turn back, that he’ll think I’m weird for following him, I keep going, my breaths coming out in soft pants as I pick up my pace. He didn’t drink too much, but I don’t think he’s completely sober. He may need someone to stay with him until he can get a ride home or something.
But when I round the corner, I don’t see him. I look left and right, hoping I spot him, but nothing.
I rest with my hands on my hips, trying to catch my breath and I wonder where he could have gone. My shoulders droop as I stand there, looking like a fool.
