Hey guys, I hope you're enjoying the story this far! If you have any questions regarding the story, feel free to send me an email! Or if you have any suggestions regarding my writing or the story, please send them to me! (this is my second story!)
As usual, don't forget to donate to Nifty if you can! https://donate.nifty.org/
Chapter 5 -
The weekend passed quickly, with thoughts of Colt and his words consuming my mind. Deep in my heart, all I wanted was to spend my time kissing him. I adored his kisses; they held a unique blend of intensity and tenderness. I had no basis for comparison, but I was certain he was the best kisser in the world. Yet, my rational mind was cautioning me against it. It reminded me that the school year was nearing its end, and afterwards, both of us would likely head off to different colleges, making it unlikely that we'd see each other again. Was it worth allowing myself to fall in love for such a brief moment? Perhaps it would be better to forget him and move on.
Other parts of me pushed back, of course. They suggested that love need not enter the equation; I could use Colt purely for his physical attributes. Our previous encounter had been electrifying, and I was yearning for more.
That was the trouble, though: I was yearning for more. My rational mind knew that. It knew that horniness bore no loyalty to anything. It would make the case for true love or no love at all -- whichever it thought would lead to carnal satisfaction.
I was at war with myself, and suddenly it was Monday afternoon -- lunchtime. I couldn't tell you the first thing about the classes I'd surely been in that morning. I made my way to the cafeteria, waited in line, and got my food. My customary spot was a small table at the back, away from everyone. I often ate there in solitude. As I settled into my seat and began eating, I reminded myself not to linger too long in the cafeteria, as it tended to attract unwanted attention. Typically, I'd leave within ten minutes at most and find refuge elsewhere, be it in the library or some other hideaway. I was halfway through my meal when I felt a presence looming over me--someone standing beside my table.
"Hey," a deep voice addressed me. "You're Scott, right?"
I didn't need to look up; that voice was unmistakable. It resonated through my body, particularly in my groin. It was Colt.
"Mind if I sit here?" he asked, though it was more a statement, as he took the only available seat at the table across from me. I finally raised my gaze, and there he was, sporting his familiar, enticing smile. Meanwhile, my nerves were on edge. Glancing around, I noticed the attention from everyone in the cafeteria. Naturally, all eyes were usually on Colt, so his sitting next to me, the social outcast, inevitably sparked curiosity.
What is Colt's game? Why is he approaching me at school?
"What's going on?" I whispered, hoping my voice wouldn't carry.
"You're pretty smart, right?" Colt continued, speaking audibly for anyone within earshot. "My grades aren't as great as I hoped, so I could use some help. Would you consider tutoring me?"
"Colt, what's the angle here?" I inquired more composedly. Panic was simmering within me. I knew he wanted to get closer, but I wasn't prepared for him to take the initiative.
"There's no angle," he replied, lowering his voice. "You really helped me understand my math homework the other day. I genuinely need a tutor, and I'd like it to be you."
I glanced around the cafeteria nervously; people were still watching us and sharing whispers.
"I get it," I said, "and I forgive you, but you don't need to come out for my sake--especially not at school."
"It's not about that. It's just tutoring, honestly. If we become friends in the process, great. If not, that's okay too."
"Just tutoring?" I questioned.
Can I believe him? Is this just an excuse to fulfill his desires, or is it genuine?
"Yes," he assured me, "and I'll pay you, of course."
In silence, I weighed my options. Money would be really helpful, easing my transition to college life next year. But was it wise to get close to Colt now, considering I hadn't resolved my feelings about him? Before I could reach a conclusion, James and a few of his baseball buddies approached our table.
"Yo, Colt," James said "spending time with this guy, you might catch his gayness."
His buddies snickered behind him. My head drooped, my eyes fixating on the ground. I'd known that Colt approaching me in school could only end badly--just how I knew he couldn't actually follow through.
"It'd still be better than hanging around with you and becoming an idiot," Colt shot back.
Laughter erupted from his buddies, and even a few other cafeteria patrons chuckled. I raised my gaze, observing Colt. His face, once smiling, bore a serious expression. Despite him sitting while James stood, Colt seemed more imposing. I was sure James sensed it too, as he met Colt's gaze in silence.
"Fine," he muttered. "Don't say I didn't warn you." With that, he slinked away. He had no qualms about bullying me, a weaker target, but when faced with someone stronger and more popular, he'd cowered.
"So, will you be my tutor?" Colt asked, breaking me from my thoughts. I met his gaze again, and his smile had returned.
"Alright, but I'm not cheap," I teased. Colt's defense of me had made me happier than I thought it would.
"Yes!" he exclaimed. "What's your number?"
"Ah, not so fast. I'm not giving you my number. At least, not yet. If you put in effort and study hard, I might consider it."
"But how will we know when to meet up then?"
"I'll let you know when and where we'll meet after each session. Let's plan to meet in the school library tomorrow after school for the first one."
"Alright," Colt said, grinning. "You're the boss." His gleaming teeth melted my resolve, and I felt my composure slipping away, so I grabbed my tray and hurriedly left the cafeteria.
"Make sure you're on time," I muttered as I departed.
The next day seemed to crawl by at an agonizingly slow pace. My mind was consumed by thoughts of the upcoming tutoring session with Colt. Minutes and hours blended into an endless haze of impatience. I couldn't help but replay our conversation in the cafeteria, his smile etched into my memory. It was a smile that carried promises and possibilities. As the final bell of the school day rang, I gathered my belongings, feeling a sense of urgency.
The library was my destination, and I arrived early, my heart racing with anticipation. Finding a quiet corner, I settled down and watched the minutes tick by. I was oddly nervous; I felt like I was at a turning point. My anxiety over my feelings for Colt mingled with the nervousness about helping him academically. I was in uncharted territory, as I'd never really had a close friend before, nor had I ever tutored anyone.
When Colt walked into the library, his arrival didn't go unnoticed. A few heads turned to follow his path, and a murmur of excitement seemed to ripple through the air. Despite the attention, Colt strode toward me with a sense of purpose, his usual self-assured grin firmly in place.
"Hey there," he greeted me, a charming glint in his eyes.
"Hey," I responded, trying to sound casual despite the flutter in my chest.
As we settled into our seats, I took out my notebook and pen, ready to assist him. "So, what subject do you need help with today?"
Colt shrugged, a hint of sheepishness in his expression. "I could use some help with chemistry. I've been struggling a bit with balancing equations."
I nodded, relieved it was a subject I could handle. Balancing chemical equations was something I could explain well. "No problem."
Colt leaned forward, his eyes focused on my notebook as I began to explain the process of balancing chemical equations. His attentive gaze and genuine interest in learning were reassuring, and I felt a sense of satisfaction in being able to help him grasp the concepts.
"Alright, so let's take this equation as an example," I said, sketching it out on the paper. "We have hydrogen reacting with oxygen to form water. But the number of atoms on each side of the equation needs to be the same for it to be balanced."
Colt followed along, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied the equation. "So, we're trying to make sure there's the same number of each type of atom on both sides?"
"Exactly," I replied, pleased with his understanding. "Let's start by counting the number of hydrogen atoms on both sides. On the left side, we have two, and on the right side, we also need two. So, we'll put a coefficient of two in front of the water molecule on the right."
As I continued explaining the process, Colt chimed in with questions that showed he was engaged in the learning process. His inquiries weren't just about the equations; they extended to understanding the underlying principles of chemistry. It was refreshing to see someone genuinely curious and eager to learn, especially considering the less-than-stellar reputation Colt had with his peers.
"So, if we keep adjusting the coefficients until the number of atoms is the same on both sides, the equation is balanced?" Colt summarized, a pleased smile on his face.
"Exactly!" I replied, pleased to see him catching on. "It's not just about preventing certain reactions. The key concept is to attain a state of equilibrium that leans towards pure entropy. In this process, no atoms are created or destroyed; they simply readjust to find that harmonious balance."
Colt nodded, his expression a mix of understanding and satisfaction. "You make it sound so simple. Thanks, Scott."
"No problem," I said, feeling a surge of pride at his words. "Chemistry can be challenging, but with practice, it becomes more intuitive."
We continued working through a few more examples, and each time, Colt evinced more understanding. It was a rewarding experience to see him progress, and his enthusiasm was contagious. The initial nervousness I'd felt about tutoring him had dissolved, replaced by a sense of camaraderie.
Our light banter continued as we worked through more examples.. Colt wasn't just a popular jock; he was someone who genuinely wanted to connect, to learn, and to laugh.
As we tackled another equation, Colt's brows furrowed in concentration. "Alright, this one's a bit trickier. Mind if I ask a random question to keep things interesting?"
I grinned, intrigued by his proposal. "Go ahead. Hit me with your best shot."
He leaned forward, a playful glint in his eyes. "If you could have any superpower, what would it be?"
I chuckled, pondering his question for a moment. "Teleportation, definitely. Think of all the time I'd save on commuting."
Colt burst into laughter, his infectious chuckles filling the air. "Man, that's a practical choice. But what about flying? The view from up there would be unbeatable."
I raised an eyebrow, smirking at him. "You've really thought this through, huh? I suppose flying would be cool too, but I'm sticking with teleportation."
Colt shook his head, still grinning. "Teleportation it is, then. You're a man with a plan."
Our laughter lingered in the air, the library suddenly feeling less like a study zone and more like a place of connection. I noticed Colt staring at me while I laughed, and I felt something different from his gaze--something I'd never felt before. It seemed tender and loving, like he genuinely cared about me and wanted to see me happy. I immediately felt uncomfortable, as if I was naked in front of him, and I tensed up. I stopped laughing and became very nervous; Colt's gaze became inquisitive at my sudden change of mood.
"I think we're done for today," I said. "You seem to understand everything now. Right?"
"Yes," he replied. "Thank you so much." He quickly regained his composure after being flustered by my sudden dismissal. "How much do I owe you?"
I pretended to ponder. "Let's say... twenty bucks?"
He raised an eyebrow. "Seriously? I was expecting a lot more."
"Really? No, yeah, twenty is cool."
I actually had no idea how much a tutor should be paid, and twenty dollars already seemed like a lot to me.
"Here is thirty. You deserve it, trust me."
"Thanks."
"No, thank YOU, really. You're helping me so much, you have no idea."
I was about to laugh. I had only explained some basic principles to him; it seemed like such an exaggeration. He looked serious, though, so I gave him a weak smile.
"You're welcome."
"When is our next session?" he asked.
"Well, I know you're busy with practice and games, so... next week?"
"How about Sunday, in the late morning, at my house?"
"Colt, I don't think it's such a good idea for us to be alone like that."
"Well, we won't be alone; my parents will be there. They're actually the ones paying you, and I think they're doubting I actually have a tutor, so that way I can show them I do. And they'd love to meet you!"
"OK then. If your parents are there, it's fine."
"Great, I'll pick you up at ten-thirty! Thanks, Scott. I'll see you around."
"Bye."
As I watched him stride out of the library, my gaze couldn't help but linger on the way his jeans outlined every contour of his form. In particular, his impeccable rear, sculpted to perfection, was a mesmerizing sight. The fabric stretched taut over his toned muscles, accentuating every curve and line. Those two captivating halves moved in a rhythm of their own as he walked, a dance that held my attention completely. The memory of that sight etched itself permanently into my mind.
**
The following Saturday, I was preparing to journey to a neighboring city for an art exhibition by an artist I greatly admired.
The journey to the gallery was a sequence of bus rides, each bump and turn bringing me closer to a world so unlike the suffocating confines of high school and my dad's house.
"I'm heading to Alejandro Torres' exhibition," I gushed to a fellow passenger. "He's a local artist who's starting to make a name for himself. He's one of my favorites." Torres was known for his mesmerizing paintings and intricate drawings that blended surrealism with vivid realism, creating a visual experience like no other.
Finally arriving at the gallery, I stepped inside and was immediately greeted by an array of captivating artworks. My eyes darted from canvas to canvas, each piece a unique expression of Torres' creativity. His style played with colors and shapes, invoking a sense of dreamlike wonder. I moved from one piece to another, my gaze lingering on each one as I tried to absorb the emotions they conveyed.
The gallery buzzed with life. Visitors mingled in front of the artworks, their conversations merging with the ambiance of creativity. Waiters moved gracefully through the crowd, offering drinks and hors d'oeuvres. I grabbed a glass of juice and a small plate of appetizers, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness as I navigated the sea of people.
I continued to explore the exhibition, feeling a sense of connection with Torres' work. Surrounded by adults engaged in discussions, I found myself immersed in the world of the art--solitary, yet content.
Eventually, I found myself standing in front of a painting that truly held me captive. It was a piece that seemed to embody a world of emotions--an intricate dance of colors and shadows. Lost in contemplation, I didn't notice when someone joined me.
"It's a profound portrayal of solitude and longing, don't you think?" the voice beside me remarked.
Without turning to face the speaker, I offered my own perspective, my eyes fixed on the artwork. "Actually, I see it more as a celebration of connection and togetherness. The way the figures intertwine suggests a shared journey rather than isolation."
The man's chuckle carried a hint of surprise. "A contrasting viewpoint; I like it."
Lost in the painting's allure, I finally turned my head to acknowledge the person I had been unknowingly discussing art with. My gaze met a man who seemed to embody the very essence of his creations. His stature was commanding, an artist's frame of mind etched into the lines of his body. Standing at a respectable height, he possessed an air of confidence that suffused both his carriage and his gaze. His raven-black hair framed his face, a hint of stubble adding a touch of ruggedness to his otherwise--refined appearance. It was clear that he took care of himself, his physical vitality evident in the subtle lines of muscles beneath his attire. In his early thirties, he held a mature charm that seemed to draw attention effortlessly.
As I met his gaze, I found myself taken aback by the sheer presence he emanated. It was one thing to admire an artist's work from a distance, and an entirely different experience to encounter the living, breathing creator up close. My heart raced a bit -- not just from our unexpected interaction, but from the realization that I was standing before an artist I truly admired. He was a handsome one, too, I had to admit, and in a way that wasn't just about his physical features, but about his aura. I couldn't help but return his warm smile with one of my own, a mix of nervousness and genuine delight.
Lost in my own thoughts and unaware of the artist's presence, I had spoken without fully considering the context. Before I could even muster a proper apology, Alejandro's reassuring voice cut through.
"No need to apologize," he said with a warm chuckle. "I appreciate a different perspective. It's the beauty of art, isn't it? Each person sees something unique."
His words put me at ease, and I nodded, a mixture of relief and gratitude coursing through me. "Thank you, really. Your work means a lot to me."
Alejandro's smile grew more genuine, as if my admission had touched him. "I'm glad to hear that. Being able to connect with someone through my art is incredibly fulfilling."
As we exchanged thoughts on various pieces around the gallery, time seemed to warp and stretch. Alejandro's enthusiasm for his own creations was contagious, and his curiosity about my views felt both humbling and empowering. We delved into discussions about colors, emotions, and the intricate narratives that weaved through his art. The minutes melted away, elongating into a meaningful exchange that I never could have anticipated.
Eventually, Alejandro's focus turned toward me more directly. "You speak like an artist, Scott. Are you one as well?"
I chuckled nervously, my admiration for him still casting a shadow of self-doubt. "Not really. I'm just a high school senior, but I enjoy drawing in my free time."
Alejandro's eyes twinkled with interest. "I'd love to see your work sometime."
I hesitated, knowing I didn't have any of my drawings with me. "I don't have any on me right now."
He seemed thoughtful for a moment. "I'll be here for the next month. Why don't you come back sometime this week with your drawings? I'd be happy to take a look and offer my insights."
My heart raced at the idea, and I couldn't help but grin. "I'd really appreciate that. Thank you."
Alejandro's expression remained warm as he extended a hand. "It's a deal then. But now, I'm afraid I have to tend to other guests. Please enjoy the rest of the exhibition, Scott."
Satisfied that I had experienced everything I had hoped for, I bid Alejandro goodbye and made my way home, my heart brimming with the excitement of what lay ahead.
Back home, I couldn't contain my excitement. I rushed to my room, where a stack of sketches and drawings lay tucked away. As I sifted through them, a mix of nerves and anticipation swirled within me, all for the chance to share my passion with the artist who had ignited it.
This was a good week.