"Silver!"
I sigh in relief as I hear my name. I'm in the school cafeteria, looking for Josh and Madison. The multitude of people swarming around me makes the task very difficult. I look off to my right and see a group of people crowding a table, some sitting on it, others in chairs. I see Madison waving me over; she gets off the table and starts walking over to me. I smile at her as she takes my arm, leading me over. I look for Josh as I am dragged, but see no sign of him. I try to conceal my disappointment. Suddenly, I'm thrust before a group of upturned eyes, and my name is being introduced.
I look them all over and smile shyly to each as they are in turn introduced to me: a tiny gothic chick named Angela, a rockerish pair of girls whose names sound both like "Jen" to me, and a guy at the back named Ethan. He makes me look twice: he is very good-looking. He has blonde hair that hangs in his eyes, a very pretty face, and blue eyes to kill for. He smiles at me and says hello, his smile confident and almost arrogant in its perfection. Instantly I know I am going to have problems with him, but I don't know exactly why.
Madison smiles and then looks to Ethan. "So. How's this party getting started?"
He shrugs slowly and winks; I notice right away the almost overpowering sexual nature about him. "Not sure," he drawls slowly. "We have to wait for Josh."
I mask my sigh of relief as he says this; I was beginning to fear that he wasn't coming. Then Madison's arm is being hastily withdrawn from my own, and I follow her gaze to the doors.
In Josh walks.
I swear the deafening noise of the café lowers somewhat as he enters, and I see almost everyone's heads turn to watch. It's almost like in the movies where they slow the camera down when the lead celebrity comes on screen, strutting their stuff, and everyone in the audience sighs longingly. His hair flows behind him like a waterfall, picked up by the breeze and tossed around his face. Upon his androgynous visage is an easy, gentle smile, his eyes sparkling as he waves to those that greet him. I don't hear the wistful sigh that emits from my throat, but hear my heart instead, screaming in my chest.
Hazily, I hear Madison's voice beside me murmuring appreciatively: "Isn't he gorgeous?" A general question, I know, aimed at no-one, but as if in a daze I respond, my voice seeming to come from far away, my every sense locked upon the angel coming my way.
"He's beautiful...perfect..."
Madison is staring at me after I say this, I know, but I can't bring myself to care as he approaches. He walks up, eyes lingering upon mine for a moment, his smile deepening. Before I can do anything except goofily smile back, Angela has jumped up and is tugging on his sleeve.
"Josh, we wanted to go for pizza. Come with?"
He looks down to her and nods firmly, with an eager smile. "Yeah, pizza sounds excellent... I swear the whole class could hear my stomach growling in third period..."
He flashes a smile at the "Jen"'s as they greet him, and winks at Ethan, who winks right back and snaps off a lazy salute. Madison is still staring at me, but before I can register why, she moves beside Josh and links her arm with his, leaning up on her toes to kiss his cheek. His eyes close at the touch of her lips, I drop my gaze. Everyone gets up and we start walking out of the café, everyone falling into little groups, me tailing behind Josh and Madison.
I feel my nails digging into my palms again; this is just great. Not only have I acted like a total loser in front of Josh today, but also I'd managed to give his girlfriend a pretty good idea about how I felt about him.
When we get to the restaurant, I have thoroughly depressed myself by listening to Josh and Madison's friendly banter, watching them exchange sparkling gazes while their fingers are wrapped around the others'. We go in, and find a table. Madison and I are at either ends of the booth, Josh, Ethan and Angela and the "Jen"'s squashed in the middle.
"So what's the poison?" Ethan inquires, looking around at everyone. People shrug, and after a moment, Angela pipes up. "Let's just get a large pepperoni for now?" Everyone seems to like that idea, and Madison stands.
"Okay, I'll go order." I look up to follow the movement of her standing when a very bright green gaze that freezes me distracts me. Josh is staring at me silently, but when I return the gaze, he looks away, up at Madison. I blink and try not to let my racing heart explode.
"'Kay, I'll help." He says, attempting to stand amongst the tangle. But I shoot up and shake my head. "No, I'll help." Madison laughs and gestures at me to follow, which I do, acutely aware the entire time of Josh's intense, almost unhappy stare. But I wouldn't have so rudely intervened if I didn't feel a pressing urge to do something. As she and I approach the counter, I touch her arm lightly. She looks at me, and the long pause I take to collect my thoughts makes her frown slightly, her gaze taking on a concerned look.
Staring at her a moment, I manage to mumble "sorry." She frowns even deeper and moves closer, the softness of my voice drawing her in.
"Why?" she inquires gently, and the sudden empathy in the voice makes me look up again. Her dark eyes are almost doe-like in that instant, filled with such compassion that I almost break out into tears right then and there although I can think of no reason to try.
"About what... I said... earlier..." I whisper, my eyes locked tremulously on hers. She is silent a moment, and then her fingers find mine, where they squeeze reassuringly.
"It's okay, Silver." She pauses, looks over my shoulder back at the table, back to Josh presumably, and a smile forms on her lips. "He IS beautiful. Many, many people think so. I just wish he would believe it himself."
I squeeze her fingers back lightly, still needing to be reassured. "As long as you're not mad, then...?"
Her eyebrows raise slightly, a confused smile touching her mouth. She shakes her head. "Mad? Why would I be mad?"
I shift uncomfortably at this and look away. "Because he's...your... boyfriend?"
She stares at me as I say this, her eyes widening slowly. Then, after a long moment, she starts to laugh. It is an attractive, burbling laugh, but I can only feel confused and suddenly miserable in the face of it. She squeezes my hand hard, and her other hand comes up to her mouth where she incredulously speaks through her splayed fingers.
"Boyfriend? Is... Is that what you thought?"
I nod wonderingly, and suddenly her arms are thrown around me, thrusting me into a bubbling, mirth-filled embrace. As we hug, or rather, as she hugs me, I feel her lips on my ear, her soft voice filling my head.
"We're cousins. So, technically, you've got more of a chance with him than I do."
Words cannot begin to describe the relief that tears through me as I hear this, and I am suddenly very grateful for her arms as I lose balance. She catches me and holds me against her for a moment as I regain control. My face must look as simultaneously shocked and exhilarated as I feel, because she starts laughing anew again, pressing a giggling kiss to my cheek before she turns to order.
When we get back to the table, I'm almost floating. I swear. I sit down next to Josh, who has, I think, not taken his eyes off us at the same time. As I thrillingly realize this, the thrill manages to embed itself in the last place it should be: a shivering erection beginning to form in my pants. Something about the thought of him never taking those sinfully beautiful eyes off me...
His smile is still there and as I put the pizza box down, he speaks. "Looks like you two were having fun over there."
I nod and grin, the sudden happiness in my heart pulling my smile into a far more energetic and ecstatic one than I'd originally intended. I'm about to look away as I realize the intensity of it, but then something happens to Josh's gaze. It strengthens, and his own smile mirrors mine, an extraordinary happiness to it that makes my heart soar and my breathing to stop. I simply stare at him, transfixed, our shared smile suddenly taking on a more intimate touch: he bites his lower lip slightly in a disgustingly cute and arousing gesture that sends my senses reeling.
Then the enchantment is broken by Madison's voice: "Yeah... I told him the dead baby joke."
Josh blinks as she speaks, and we both tear our gazes away from each other, I wistfully wonder if the pain I feel of having to do so is my pain alone. He grins as he registers her remark, and helps himself to a piece of pizza; everyone having already helped themselves and munching happily away, talking to each other. I watch as he takes a bite, the melted cheese extending from his lips to the slice in a tantalizing loop. White, long, creamy... I suppress a shiver, the half-erect hard-on in my pants stiffening even further as my mind makes the sexual connection.
'You'd have more of a chance with him...' Oh, gods, I can only dream. And what did she mean by that anyway? Was it just a casual remark? An attempt at humour, or something else entirely? Could I even DARE to hope? I look away from Josh and over to her, only to find that she's beat me to it, her dark, sparkling eyes upon mine, a mischievous, knowing smile upon her lips. I look away, feeling instantly strange and worried. Josh does not notice anything, thank heaven, his concentration upon the pizza.
Two and a half weeks have gone by; I've settled into my classes well enough, especially Law. No wonder, considering that Josh sits in front of me and to the side, so I can stare at his profile without his seeing me do so. Our rendezvous consist of lunch mostly, where I sit and watch them all talk, my heart raging as I listen to and watch Josh. I know I'm officially obsessed with the boy, but I can't bring myself to care. I eat, sleep, breathe Josh. He is never far from my thoughts; my songbook is filled with poetry about him. Kind of sickening, really.
"Something fearless in your eyes Something careless about your smile Something fragile when you hold your breath And when you move, you move right through me..."
These words are hummed as I play my guitar, locked in my room. I'm sitting on the floor by my window, staring up at the starlit sky outside. I like my room. In my opinion it is the most comfortable room in the entire house. It's decorated in dark turquoise and emerald, my favourite colours, with crazy posters all over the walls, some of bands, others of artwork. My bed is a queen sized monster of a waterbed, draped in satin sheets that cost me a huge sum of money but have serviced me well since.
I begin to go into the chorus of the song, my fingers flying over the strings, when the loud, jarring shriek of the telephone startles me and my guitar groans in protest as my fingers jerk off the frets. "Shit," I snap, and lean over to grab the offending phone, knowing my mother isn't home so I'll have to get it. It's never for me, so I don't know why I'm bothering. Perhaps to freak at the unwitting person who so rudely interrupted me?
"Yeah?" I sullenly ask, my voice sharp. I have little patience for my mother, and even less for her friends, and I make sure they know it. I guess you could call me an asshole, but there is only so much I can take of the middle-aged crowd who look at me like I'm an alien and upon whom my mother bases most of her intolerant views concerning me.
"Is this Silver?"
The voice is masculine, gentle and soft; with that sexy adult-teen music that only one voice I know of can project that specific beauty so well. I drop the phone.
"Josh!" I hiss to myself, my fingers trembling as I pick it back up.
"Yeah, this is Silver..." I say cautiously, biting my lip.
"Hey, man, this is Josh." I try not to giggle like a schoolgirl. DUH.
"Oh, hey, Josh!" SO nerdy. Oh well.
He laughs gently in greeting. "Hey. I... got your number from Madison. I need to know if there was any homework for law today?"
He wasn't in class today, the fact had been bugging me all day; I'd missed him. But I don't ask why, feeling it would be rude.
"Yeah, there was. Can you hold on for a second while I find it?" I'm nearly bouncing: God, his voice is sooo sexy!
I put down the phone carefully on my bed, near the stereo. It's playing something softly, but I don't have time to figure out what it is because my feet send me whirling around the room in a breathless dance of giddy joy. Josh! Phoning me! So what if it was just for homework? I glide over to my desk and pull open my binder, rifling through the pages as I pick up the phone again.
"Back," I say, trying to find where I'd written it down.
"Was that Stabbing Westward?" he asks, and I blink.
"Yeah, it was. You know of them?!"
He laughs at my surprise: I can picture his green eyes glittering like neon stars.
"Aye," he says, "They're really awesome. The lead singer's voice is incredible."
"Christopher Hall," I say promptly. "He's really great. I'm a little obsessed with them... I can't live a day without hearing at least one song by them."
He chuckles and I hear him moving around slightly.
"I know what you mean. It's such intense music. The singer... Christopher... his voice is really sexy. Adds such an erotic factor to the whole thing."
I nod even though he can't see me, and without thinking, I blurt out: "If you think his voice is hot, you should see HIM. He's gorgeous."
THEN I realize what Josh had said, THEN I realize what I just said, and the colour drains out of my face. Wait a sec. He called Christopher's voice SEXY? I didn't dream that, did I? And then: oh, fuck me running, did I just say I thought some other guy was hot? But Josh is chuckling slightly, and his voice fills the earpiece with its sexy softness.
"Probably is, with a voice like that. Beauty tends to go hand in hand with itself."
Despite my fear, I have to agree vehemently; Josh was a perfect example of that statement himself. Silence falls as my mind whirs: he received my opinion perfectly fine, agreed with it even! Obviously not homophobic then, but I'd come to that conclusion a while ago. He was too mature to ever be so stupid. 'I love you', I want to scream, but instead assuage myself by mouthing it silently.
"So.. the homework?"
I jolt, look down to the binder on my lap.
"Yeah. Um... an essay on Jean Jacques Rousseau for Monday. Preferably double spaced, two thousand to two thousand and fifty words."
I can hear a pen scratching across paper as he is silent, writing what I'd said down. And then, as I hear listen to his breathing with my eyes closed, I hear him groan softly.
"This sounds like a sleeper."
I laugh in sympathy.
"Oh yeah. State of nature and all that fun stuff."
He giggles quietly, and I hear him sigh softly in such a way that I know he has moved himself to a more relaxed position. I bite my lip happily at this and clutch the phone: he was willing to stay and talk for a while!
"Gotta love the teacher, though," he says, "Actually thinking we care about how all these philosophers have influenced his life."
I snicker and lie down on my bed, feeling the water push me up and down.
"Yeah, like with Marx. Why didn't Mr. Koffmann just go live in a commune then, and spare us the hell of hearing about his raging desire to go there?"
Josh laughs, my cheeks tingle to hear it.
"Oh, I know. But, hey, if he hadn't been teaching, you and I probably wouldn't have had the same class together due to the rules of randomness. So maybe something good comes out of his bitching..."
My hands go numb as he says this, the blush returns full force. Oh, Josh... if only you knew how lucky I feel. And I know I can't let myself feel any hope through what he just said... but... desperate hearts will do desperate things. So I let a thrill of joy shoot through me even though I know it is a false joy. He liked my presence enough to say so... maybe that was a good thing?
"Well, I don't know if anything good came out on your side of the deal... as soon as I meet you, I end up falling on you!"
Falling on you, falling for you, same difference. I've spoken lightly, but shudder in embarrassment as I remember: the memory makes me wince every time. He is quiet for a long moment, and I rake my fingers through my hair slowly, anxiously.
"I didn't mind."
Just that. Just that and only that. In a voice so soft I can hardly hear it. The line is silent for a little bit, and then I laugh softly, nervously.
"Well, then I might just do it again, to see if your perception's on straight."
Oh, God. Did I just let myself say that? I bite my lip again, soon after feeling the metallic, tangy taste of blood on my tongue. A soft, tiny laugh shivers through the phone line, and something else too, something I can't quite identify, but that makes my heart stop.
"I think I've got a pretty good handle on it, actually. But feel free to do what you like... I'll just pretend I need to test myself."
"So maybe this could be a bigger accident than before," I hear myself prattle. "Like, maybe while you're sitting down, I'd crash into your lap. Give the girls a thrill."
Shut up, Silver... shut up, shut up, shut up!!! I slam a hand over my mouth; squeeze my eyes shut, readying to hang up the phone in mortification. But I hear a slow, amused chuckle dance in its amber tones across the line, its tones languid and sensual, setting my nerve endings on fire.
"Give EVERYONE a thrill," he murmurs, and continues. "Ethan might get some kicks out of it."
I start to feel that slow, burning sensation in my groin, and grip the sheet beside me as I try to fight what I know is coming. Nothing against having a hard-on, but... I felt kind of wrong to have one when on the phone with Josh...
"Would he?" I ask steadily. "Dunno if I'm cute enough for him."
Josh laughs; I can almost feel his grin. This does not help.
"Oh, no, you are. He's told me so himself."
I fall into silence. Now this was something I'd not expected. Then, suddenly, Josh's voice again.
"A lot of people don't know he's gay... a constant grievance to him. But then again, it probably wouldn't go over well at our school... it's not a very tolerant place when it comes to that sort of thing."
"Yeah, I know," I say after he finishes. "Most schools really aren't. My old school wasn't."
"Good thing you got out of there. Homophobic atmospheres are never good, specially around creative spirits."
He laughs then, and I close my eyes, sent to some unable place of desire. I suddenly want to tell him, and not care what he does. I just want to say: 'I'm gay. And I want you. More than anything. You are all I dream about.'
Instead: "True. But it can strengthen the spirit, having to deal with the challenge of overcoming persecution."
"That which does not kill us makes us stronger."
I smile slightly to myself at this.
"Stranger," I reply.
"What?" He asks, his voice a myriad of mild confusion. I can't help but grin.
"Stranger. That which does not kill us makes us stranger."
He is silent for a bit, contemplating. Then his voice fills my ear once again, my eyes close.
"That's... really... awesome, Silver. Very... valid... and true."
I grin like a kid, feel pleasure wriggling into my heart.
"Thanks, I guess..."
"No, really... that's really cool. Can I steal it?"
I laugh. "Feel free, man. I stole it from a movie." Steal anything you want. But you can't have my heart... that's already long gone.
He laughs as well, gently. "Cool. Thanks. Listen... Silver..."
He pauses, and I frown slightly.
"Yeah?" I ask softly, wondering. When he speaks, it comes in a big rush, his words flowing like water after each other. I have to strain to catch up.
"There's a big thing going on Friday at a club downtown called the Vatikan, all ages but supposedly really cool, a bunch of us are going to go, would you like to come?"
It takes a while to register, but then I sit up, and stare at my amazed self in the mirror. What? Did Josh just ask me out to a club? Oh man oh man oh man.... I fight to breathe, wanting to scream for sudden, delirious joy. Could this day get any better?
"Sure," I manage, as casually as I can. "I'd love to go."
He is quiet for a long moment, and I slowly start to panic. Oh fuck, was I supposed to not accept or something? Oh... oh, no... what if Madison made him ask? Or what if he was merely being polite? He did wait a long time to ask... oh...
"...really?"
All my thoughts stop. Everything stops. The way he said that word makes my heart begin to burn. The tones were so hopeful, the voice so quiet and relieved.
"Yeah..." I whisper, feeling tears sting the back of my eyes.
"Great... awesome. I.... I thought you were going to say no... that's why I didn't ask before."
"Why would I say no?" I incredulously ask, biting my lip again. He's quiet for a little bit longer, I can hear things being moved around on his end of the line.
"I don't know... I just... thought you... would. Have better things to do."
I start to laugh, and shake my head, my eyes wide.
"Even if I did have other things to do, I'd drop them in a second to go out with you." Oh shit, shit... "Guys to the club," I add hopelessly. Oh, that was horrible... he's going to hang up...
"....okay... cool. So... I'll... pick you... up on Friday, after school? Madison knows where you live. And I know I'll be seeing you before Friday night, but it's good to make plans now; you never know what's going to happen..."
He's nervous, I realize, and the realization turns my body alternately hot and cold at once. He's talking so fast and so much because he's nervous...
Abruptly, a loud crack snaps across the phone line. I jump and wince as I hear my mother's voice snap, loud and garish and repulsively ugly after the sound of Josh's.
"Silver, are you on the phone? I need to use it for a very important call, so please get off pronto." A loud, shuddering click, and the phone line is silent again. I groan.
"Wow. Your mother, I would guess." Josh says, whistling. "Yikes."
I laugh through my sudden tears. "You don't know the half of it. I'd better go; she gets even louder when she's really angry. And you don't want to hear THAT. Well, actually, you might hear it anyway, considering the strength of her yell."
He laughs gently, sympathetically and speaks softly. "I hear you, man. Okay. So I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Yeah, and then on Friday night, right?"
"Yeah....right...." He says, a nervous, quick laugh touching his tones, a laugh that sounds almost breathless. I feel like fainting. This is too good to be true...
"SILVER! GET OFF THE PHONE!" Her voice tears into the line again, and I almost piss myself out of shock.
"Okay, Mom! Jesus!" But my blasphemy is cut off before she can hear it, for she slams down the phone again.
Josh sighs softly, the silence following it heavy. "You'd better go..."
"Yeah..." I manage to mutter thickly, mentally raining down all sorts of hexes and curses upon my mother's evil, bleach-blonde head. "I'll... see you tomorrow. Have a good sleep, Josh."
He is quiet for a half-moment, but I linger anyways, even though I know I'll probably be castrated.
"You too, Silver... don't let her get to you."
I smile, nod, and try to speak. "Thanks. I'll try... I..."
I want to finish 'will think of you, and end up not sleeping at all for being so distracted...' but I can't. Of course.
"You... what?"
His voice sounds so sweet and gentle, like I can drown in it. So concerned... I want to kiss him until he cries...
"Nothing. I've got to go."
Click. I drop the phone in its cradle heavily, and then curl around it as the tears come for no good reason at all.
"Silver..."
My name is sighed softly, Josh's voice making it beautiful by his longing tones. I feel his arms slip around my waist and pull me close, and I fall willingly against him, pressing as tightly as I can against his warm, tense body. My eyes open, and I see his face, eyes closed and lips parted, head tilted back slightly so the creamy expanse of his neck is exposed to the moonlight. I shiver at the sight of this, and lower my lips to the offered throat, kissing a feverish, trembling trail down his skin, heading for his chest.
He moans once more, his fingers slipping under my shirt and spreading like viscous water over my back, stetting me on fire with each inch traversed. I arch my back to his touch, and as I lift myself off him, he moves his hands around to my chest; those long fingernails scraping lightly, treacherously across my muscles, making them jump and dance. Suddenly, I am on my back, and he is lying on top of me, our legs entangled tightly. He stares down at me with those crazily green eyes, lit by arousal and passion, his hair falling in perfumed waves around his achingly beautiful face.
"I love you," He murmurs, a hand coming up to caress my cheek, which is suddenly wet with tears, staining his fingers.
"And I love you, Josh... so much..." I whisper in reply, my hand taking his and pressing his palm to my lips gently.
He shivers at the kiss, and then my mouth is covered with his lush lips, their pliant, erotic warmth thrusting hungrily, greedily against my own. As we kiss, I become slowly aware of his erection burning its length into my lower abdomen, and the feeling of it makes me cry out into the kiss, my grip around him to tighten. He begins to slowly grind into me, and I shudder with insane desire as I feel his hard-on rub deeply against my own. My hand begins to snake between us, moving down the taut landscape of his sweaty chest slowly, and he lifts himself off me slightly to make room, forceful shudders shaking his body as he gasps, knowing where my hand is trying to go.
He doesn't break the kiss at all, not after all this time, our tongues doing a slow, sexy dance as he begins to thrust harder, moaning into my mouth, his hands gripping my hips harder as he pushes himself down. I'm thrusting right back up, my cock feeling as hard as brick and hot as fire, throbbing with mind-blowing desperation, aching for release. His moans and gasps for breath have become a steady sweet music in my ear, and I keep groaning his name, holding him as tightly as I can, not wanting any single iota of space between us at all.
"Josh..." I whisper, my hand continuing its slow descent. "Josh..." He replies by kissing me harder, his hands raking down my sides to grab my ass as I push up into him, his fingers squeezing tightly, relentlessly. Then he cries out as if in frustration, breaks the kiss and presses his burning cheek against mine, his hand finding mine and pushing it downwards, still thrusting his hips against me.
"Faster," he moans gaspingly, his fingers shaking as he pulls mine down towards his waist. "Please..."
Dizzy with arousal, I shudder at his plea, feeling a wave of pre-orgasmic pleasure crash through me as he pumps his cock against mine, waiting for my fingers to give him release. My fingers creep into the waist of his pants slowly; the backs of them brushing his steaming skin, heading towards the molten lava I can feel boil there. Then I feel his hand brushing between my legs for a moment, moving upwards, and with a suddenness that sends more desire surging through me, his hand closes upon my cock, his fingers squeezing the shaft tightly. I almost scream and thrust helplessly upwards, almost lifting us both clear of the bed, my fingers falling dormant in his pants as intense pleasure crashes over my body, stripping me of any control I had. I'm crying out his name over and over as he rubs me through my pants, his kisses falling like rain on my face, his whispered cries of urgency only sending me more over the edge. He puts his full force into it now; his fingers like a vice around my cock, jerking quickly, his thumb rubbing the head rapidly without slowing. My hands fall away from him then, falling limp on the bed as I start to come, the explosion building slowly in my balls and then boiling upwards before surging down my cock, a soundless scream bursting from my chest from the force of it. "Josh... I'm coming... Josh..."
"SILVER!"
The scream of my name tears through my consciousness like a rusted, broken blade, jolting me awake. My eyes fly open in shock and stare at the ceiling, heart pounding and chest struggling for breath.
"SILVER!!"
"WHAT?" I scream back, knowing it is my mother, and that she is at the foot of the stairs. I don't need her coming in here... not now.
"Don't use that tone of voice with me, kid," she says, her icy voice the epitome of vindictive authority. I groan and sit up, only then realising that my body is drenched in sweat. My sheets stick to my back as I move, my chest glistening like I've just got out of the shower.
"There's someone at the door for you, so hurry up."
I jab my middle finger angrily at my door and half-slide out of bed, trying to catch my breath. When I stand, it is then that I feel the slow, syrupy slide of something in my boxers, trickling down my upper thigh.
"Ah, fuck..."
I wrench off the boxers, stepping out of them impatiently and picking them up, using the soft material to clean myself up. Not surprisingly, my erection is still half there, the five and a half inches of semi-hardened glory glistening wetly from my sperm. "This is all your fault," I mentally tell Josh as the white substance soaks into the fabric, shivering as I remember the dream and the force of it. This isn't the first one, either, but each one has been more potent than the last, forcing me to do a lot of laundry. Balling up the boxers and throwing them in my hamper, I quickly change into some new ones, pulling on a tight navy-blue shirt and a pair of black jeans.
Pulling open the door, I run to the washroom hurriedly, wondering who is at the door. Picking up my brush, I rake it through my hair and pull the ebony and turquoise locks back into a ponytail, some of the strands escaping and framing my face. Then, after putting on some deodorant, I run out again and jump down the stairs, taking them two at a time. As I round the corner, landing in a flying leap, I turn to face the door and see Josh standing there.
I stop totally and blink: we stare at each other for a few moments, silver eyes locked on lime ones. I'm shocked as hell to see him here, an itching, burning blush beginning to creep up my skin like a blitzkrieg: the sudden beauty of him strange and weirdly wonderful in my house. Flashes of my dream snap like photographs across my mind's eye, making goosebumps shiver onto my skin; I stare at him enraptured. He regards me silently, a half-smile infiltrating his features, his eyes flickering over me quickly, looking me up and down. Again the brilliance of his gaze renders me almost comatose, and I desperately want to look away for the fear that he'll see what's going on in my head; see the lustful, steamy dream I'd just had of him.
The blush screams onto my cheeks at this fearful thought, but I still can't look away. 'Oh, Christ, Josh... those eyes should be illegal..." I silently implore him, and it is my mother who sidles in and breaks the spell. Stepping between us, she looks at Josh with a bright smile, and then levels an expecting glance at me. I recover and introduce her reluctantly.
"Mom, this is Josh, Josh this is my mother."
She smiles charmingly at him, and all at once I feel reelingly sick. Just watching her stare at him with sparkling eyes and glittering smiles fills me with burning disgust and no small amount of angry jealousy. I almost want to scream 'hit on someone your own age, mother!" Josh returns the smile politely, and shakes her hand when she offers it to him.
"Hi, Ms. Cormier," he says, and have to blink again.
He knows my last name? How the hell did he find that out? As far as I know, none of the people we hang out with know that. Not even Madison, who seems to know everything there is to know about everyone. My mother laughs lightly, and speaks.
"Just call me Barb," she laughs, with a tiny giggle at the end of her name that makes my skin want to turn inside out. "Last names always sound so... impersonal..."
I have to turn at this to hide my stormy expression, and bite my tongue as hard as I can to not yell. So I go to get my boots, picking them up quickly and sitting on the bottom step to put them on; wanting to get the hell out of here, grab Josh by the hand and run. He laughs a little uncomfortably and nods at her, then looks at me; is it just wishful thinking that I see a pleading light in his eyes?
"Silver... just wanted to know if you wanted a ride to school... your house is on the way, so I stopped by..."
The change on my face is instantaneous: I know it's probably very obvious to both of them, but I don't really care right now. I smile eagerly and nod, finishing tying up my other boot as quickly as I can as I stand. My mother keeps her big eyes on Josh the whole time, seeming desperate to attract his attention.
"Sure, that would be great. Thanks.."
He smiles, pleased, and I almost dance as I walk over to him, slinging my backpack on. The chains upon it almost hit my mother, and she sighs slightly, addressing Josh with a playful tone.
"He thinks those chains look good... I don't understand it."
My hand is upon the doorknob as I ignore her, wrenching open the door wearily. He simply smiles at her and shrugs, following after me as I step out.
"I think they look great. Bye."
I have to giggle slightly as I hear him, knowing the expression that will soon come to her face once she closes the door. Once we are on the porch and the door is closed, I turn to face him, only to find him already watching me with an amused grin.
"Sorry about her," I say, rolling my eyes. "She likes to hit on anyone younger than her, so unfortunately that includes all my friends."
He laughs and winks as we walk towards his car; a sleek dark green Neon, and shrugs.
"It's okay...I'll probably be doing the same thing when I'm her age."
I laugh as well, walking around to the passenger side, watching him open his door.
"Nah...you'd never get that desperate."
We both get in and close the doors, putting on our seatbelts. I look around quietly; I'd seen Josh's car many times after school as he would wave to me from the window as I walked home, but I'd never actually been inside it. A binder of cd's are at my feet, with a myriad of band names all over the black cover done in silver pen. Hanging from his rear-view mirror is a severed clown head, which makes me laugh. He looks over at me as I do, pausing in the driveway as he waits for a car to pass by. He follows my gaze and laughs as well.
"Like him? I call him Road Kill. Ethan found it on the side of the road when we went camping last year."
I nod, grinning, and stay quiet, still looking around. The smell of the interior is wonderful: Josh's personal scent mixed in with his cologne, which is a soft, subtle, almost forest-like smell. We back out onto the street and then turn, heading towards the main road. I can't help but watch him drive through my peripheral vision, watch the way his slender but strong hands grip the steering wheel, see the look of concentration upon his face. He is dressed impeccably as always: a dark purple shirt on with flowing sleeves, and a pair of PVC pants that make me groan inwardly. If only the shirt didn't hang so low: I'd be graced with seeing Josh's ass clad in shiny black.
"Thanks for the ride," I say, trying to drive my thoughts away from that idea.
He glances at me and smiles, nodding, relaxing slightly as we hit a red light.
"Not a problem. I see you walking to school every day, and I feel kind of mean to be in my air-conditioned car while you deal with the heat."
I push a stray lock of hair out of my eyes and smile to myself.
"So this is a pity ride?" I ask, with a mock-injured tone, grinning teasingly all the while.
He laughs slightly and shakes his head, his hair glittering on his shoulders. His eyes train on me for a moment before he looks back to the road again, the light going green. His voice is quieter than usual when he replies and I have to strain to hear it.
"For me, maybe. Not for you."
I frown, trying to figure this odd remark out, when the car slows down, and my window is being rolled down by Josh pressing a button on the console beside him. I blink and look out, to see Madison walking on the sidewalk. Josh leans towards the window, and suddenly I am inches away from his face, his hair falling from his shoulders and pooling on my lap. I watch it fall, transfixed, and desperately tell myself not to think of the erotic ideas the scene presents, and look up again at his face.
"Mad!" he calls, and she looks up. Smiling brightly as she sees us, she begins to walk over to the car, waving. I automatically reach for the button to my seat belt, readying to get out and let her sit in front, but I feel Josh's hand on my own, stopping me.
"Let her ride in the back," he says softly, turning to look at me fully, the glowing emerald of his eyes seeming to heighten as I stare into their depths. My gaze wavers in the face of his stare, I can feel his breath on my face, smell its surprising sweetness.
"Okay," I whisper: how could I deny anything he wanted? Especially anything that requested me to be near to him? The darkness of his eyelashes captivates me, the way they contrast so vividly with the brightness of his eyes and the smooth perfection of his skin. He is within kissing distance away, I hazily realize, and bite my lower lip slowly, trying not to do what my instincts scream at me to. He does not look away, and it is then that I really register what he just said, and I can feel the sudden blaze of hope that rushes through me manifest in my eyes, I can simply feel them glow. My chest feels like it's going to cave in on itself, emotions surging through powerfully enough for me to loose my breath.
My fingers begin to move, seemingly upon their own volition, reaching slowly, timidly, to slip in between Josh's, my skin tingling crazily as I feel his smooth, warm skin against my own. He looks down quickly, looking as though he'd forgotten that he'd placed his hand on my own, and I stop guiltily, pulling my fingers away as quickly as I can, shamefaced. But then my fingers are stopped, his hand coming up against my own, his fingers meshing into mine. I know my fingers are trembling as they tighten around his, but I cannot hope to stop them or do anything else as he looks up at me again, his gaze having darkened slightly; more deep and unbelievably erotic than I can ever imagine anyone's eyes to look.
"Josh..." My lips form silently, my other hand slipping from its resting place on my leg to slowly lift through the mass of hair hanging from either side of his face, heading towards his cheek. I was right when I thought that touching his hair would be like touching cool silk: the smooth sleekness of the strands like a healing balm between my fingers. His eyes begin to drift closed, and my breath returns in erratic, tiny gasps as he tilts his head towards my touch.
"...Silver..." The way he breathes my name is so like my dream that my hand falters for a moment, a very real gasp falling from my lips. I feel as though I truly must be dreaming, because the way his voice sounded was exactly like my own when I would write him songs at night, simply staring at the lyrics and wishing more than anything that he was there, in my arms. His fingers tighten even further around mine, and my other hand keeps reaching up, almost at his cheek, when the startling sound of the back door being opened makes my hand jerk away, and his eyes to fly open. Madison's cheerful voice fills the small interior with a painful cacophony of sound, and I wince slightly as I hear it wash away the heady spell that had been woven between Josh and I.
"Hey, guys. Thanks for stopping, Josh! This heat is real murder!"
Oh, you have no idea, I groan to myself silently, as I watch Josh straighten back into his seat. My eyes squeeze shut in desolation as misery washes over me: I had a chance to touch him, to maybe, with any wild, incredible luck, KISS him, and it was ruined. Of course. I wait for him to take his hand away from my own, my own fingers loosening as I feel the car shift slightly, signifying Madison's entrance, angry tears stinging my eyes. I open them anyway to look over at Josh, my breathing still struggling.
He has his head bowed slightly, biting his lower lip, a look as unhappy as my heart feels upon his face. His jaw is clenched slightly; I see the muscles grinding under his skin. He looks over at me, his eyes burningly bright and unreadable, and look away instantly, not trusting myself to look at him any longer without bursting into tears. As Madison closes the door, he squeezes my hand tightly for a moment before pulling away, and I watch disbelievingly as he sets his trembling hand upon the steering wheel, his fingers having to tighten to stop the shaking that assails them.
"Hey, Mad. No problem," he says, a distant, almost featureless tone to his voice.
She doesn't seem to notice, however, instantly launching into a long, excited description of the upcoming Friday night, not seeming to care that neither Josh or I respond. I sit there silently, wanting to implode or die right there on the spot: I can only imagine how Josh was feeling. He was probably rueing the whole thing, probably kicking himself for being so stupid, was probably plotting my death or at least planning on never speaking to me again. Both of which I could understand fully.
We reach the school and get out; Josh gets out last and locks the doors. Madison instantly links arms with him, and we begin to walk towards the building. I watch them, feeling worse than the slime you find under other slime, and trail behind. When we get in, Madison waves to me, bids me goodbye. I return the gesture weakly. Josh does not look at me, does not say anything at all. They leave, and I stand there, staring after them, the tears brimming hotly over, and me too heartbroken to care.