Page 15 of Perfectly Us
“Fine.” I hang my keys on the hook and walk into the living room, sitting on the couch. On the TV, two detectives chase down a suspect, guns drawn. They cuff him and put him in the squad car. “Whatcha watching?”
“Something silly.” He turns the channel as the scene changes to show the same two male detectives kissing, their shirts off as they rut against the shower wall.
“You didn’t have to change it.”
He clears his throat and continues channel surfing. Sensing an awkwardness I don’t quite understand, I stand from the couch.
“Night, Dad.”
“Good night. You working in the morning?”
“Yep. Gotta be there by nine.”
“I have to be at the office by eight. I can make us some breakfast before I leave.”
I nod and head up the stairs. I brush my teeth, strip down to my boxers, and crawl into bed. My heart beats a little faster as I finally read that text.
Alex:I think you’re awesome too. We should hang out again sometime. But only if you want to.
I chew my lip, thinking. I like being around him.
Me:Sure.
Alex:You’re a man of very few words, huh? That’s okay. I can talk enough for the both of us.
I laugh and turn to face the window, my stomach all fluttery as I pull the blanket over me and shut my eyes.
I’ve had crushes before, girls and guys I thought were hot. But there was never anything sexual about those crushes. They were nice to look at, but I didn’t want to rip their clothes off and fuck them senseless. I haven’t told anyone though—not my dad or any of the therapists I’ve talked to over the past year or so.
What would I even say?
Most teenage boys are nothing but raging hormones and obsessed with sex, but I’ve never been like that. Sure, I have a sex drive. I jack off like any other hot-blooded male, and I sometimes watch porn while I do it. But the idea of a one-night-stand or random hookup is kind of repulsive to me.
I don’t know.
Like I said. Attraction is weird.
***
I hear Alex before I see him.
I’m in the back room waiting for the assistant manager to give me more quarters for my register when his voice echoes from the front counter.
“Hey, is Shiloh working today?”
“Yep. He’s in the back,” Amanda says, glancing over at me in the doorway to the manager’s office. She smiles and twirls her blonde curls as she walks over, a curious look in her eyes. “Someone’s here to see you. He’s cute too. Give him my number if he’s single.”
Rick gives me two rolls of quarters, and I go over to my register to put them in the drawer. Alex roots himself in front of me, arms resting on the counter.
“Hey, stranger.”
“Stranger?” I look at him before dropping my gaze. “You just saw me last night.”
“True.” He drums his fingers on the countertop to the beat of the song playing overhead. “When do you get off work?”
“Five thirty. Why?”
“I thought we could hang.”
