Saturday, September 13, 2008

Polar Opposites (Possible Submission Peice?)

Polar Opposites

I haven’t eaten in three days. Or at least, nothing of real substance. I am starving and for no reason other then the fact that I want to. I am already pretty thing. It’s not like I’m going this so I can feel good about myself. I know that what I’m doing is dangerous, but the truth of the matter is, I don’t care.

I’m partaking in other risky behaviors as well. Overall, I’m just not being a well rounded individual. My first year of college and I’m just fucking my life up. Because I don’t care.

And the saddest part of this whole thing is that I should care. I have some good shit going on for me right now, but all I can think about is drinking, fucking, and barely scraping by. Especially the fucking. I love the fucking.

Even now, from my little corner of the campus library, I’m scoping out my next conquest. There’s a straight guy, not even worth my time, sitting in a chair across from me. A professor, looking very out of his element, is at a computer a few feet away. A couple of girls are whispering in the stacks, just out of my line of vision. Usually, this is a hot spot for picking up cute guys, but tonight, it’s cold.

As I get up to go, I see him, He’s gorgeous. He’s looking frustrated, gazing at the numbering system on the end of the shelves, and then at a slip of paper in his hand. I breath for a second before making my move.

“Need some help?”

“Um, I just don’t understand Library of Congress, I guess.”

He’s so shy, it hurts and I’m excited just thinking about how great his skin is going to feel against mine.

“Here, let me see,” I hold out my hand for the slip, which he offers to me. “Ah, it’s this way.” I beckon him to follow me through the stacks. A moment later, I hand him the small GLBT-interest book he was looking for.

“It’s, uh, it’s for a class,” he stammers to explain.

I shrug, “Whatever. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Um, I’m Derrick,” he holds out his hand.

“Luther,” I shake it. “What do you say to some recreation, Derrick?” I raise a suggestive eyebrow.

“R-recreation?”

I lean close to him, “I’m so horny right now…and the bathrooms up here are great for hooking up.”

“I, I’m sorry,” he shakes his head. “I don’t really do that kind of thing.”

I almost can’t suppress the displeased groan, but I manage. I give him a soft little smile and a shrug, “That’s OK. Just thought I’d ask.” I give him my best ‘no hard feelings’ grin and go back to pack up my bag. I take my time, like I’m giving him the chance to change his mind. But he doesn’t, so I make my way down the stairs, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Once outside, the cool air feels good against my skin. I decide that food would be a good idea. It’s not like I’m trying to starve myself to death, so some solids in my stomach would be excellent. Especially if I wasn’t going to get any sexual nourishment.

“L-luther?”

I turn at the quiet voice that had followed me. My heart leaps, hoping that he has changed his mind.

“Yeah?”

“Um, do you want to have dinner with me?” He asks. I know it has taken him a lot of courage to be able to follow me like this and ask, and that just drives me even more insane. “I don’t really have any friends, and you know, just ‘cause I don’t want to have sex with you—”

I stopped him, “You’re babbling. I was just headed to Commons for dinner, why don’t you come with me?”

“O-okay,” a grin breaks across his face and he’s even cuter. It totally pains me that I am now entering into a totally platonic relationship with him.

“So,” I clear my throat s we start walking again, this time with him by my side. “Is that stutter real, or are you just nervous?”

“Oh, uh, well…I’m nervous as hell,” he begins to turn red.

“How can a boy as cute as you be so nervous? And not have friends? That is ridiculous.”

“I used to be…big.”

“You were fat?”

He nods, “Yeah. I got teased a lot in elementary and middle school, so I don’t really make friends that easily. But I started to diet and exercise in high school and I lost it all.”

I can’t help but imagine what this little demi-god had looked like as a fat kid. I mean, he can’t have been too bad, if he lost it all in high school. He must have realized what I am thinking, because he chimes, like he was reading my thoughts.

“I used to not be able to shop in the Young Men’s section of stores. My Mom finally gave up and just shopped at this little local place called Hefty’s. I was pretty huge.”

“How the hell did you lose it all then?”

“Exercise. Low-fat diet. It actually came off pretty easy once I stopped stuffing my face every time some kid called me Lardo or Tubby.”

“Aw,” a little frown makes me pout. “That’s sad.”

“Yeah, well, kids are cruel.” He turns to look down the street as we make our way to cross.

“Trust me, I am not like those kids. I think you’re hot,” I grin and take his hand in mine. I notice he kinds of tenses up, but I don’t say anything about it, instead tugging him towards the dining hall.

The Commons is pretty quiet when we go in. I drop his hand and pretend not to notice when he rubs his palm against his thigh, like I am some kind of dirty tramp with the gall to touch him or something.

He follows behind me like a puppy and we both pick up trays. We each get a burger and fries. He adds a salad and a side of cottage cheese to his tray, while I opt for a bowl of soup and a piece of cake. To drink, we both get a glass of coke –then he gets a chocolate milk while I get a juice.

I kind of figure this much food will be a bad idea, but I also don’t want to rouse any kind of suspicion. We pay for our meals and then slid into a table near the back.

“So, do you proposition guys in the library a lot, or am I just special?”

“Well, if I tell you what you want to hear, are you more likely to sleep with me?” I raise an eyebrow, coyly.

“Um, probably not,” he shakes his head. “It’s not that I don’t find you attractive, but…well, I don’t have sex.” I must look confused, because he feels the need to continue. “I mean, it’s not that I can’t. I just don’t. It’s like a phobia, I guess. I like sex! I know like everything there is to know about it –gay or straight. Ask me anything, seriously.”

“Wait –you don’t have sex, but…?”

“I read a lot. It’s like…a hobby.”

“I think that is one of the most fucked up things I have ever heard.”

His face is totally red and it’s just fueling the licking flames of desire in the pit of my stomach. He is driving me mad. How could a guy so cute be such an innocent? Former fatty or not.

I watch him lean over his tray and carefully eat his cottage cheese. Then he carefully assembles his burger. No-Fat mayo on the top bun, layer of spinach, two tomatoes, a sprinkle of minced onions, and a little extra mayo on the burger to hold the toppings together. But then he doesn’t eat it. He moves instead to his salad –spinach leaves, low-fat French dressing, and shredded cheddar cheese.

I’m not even hungry anymore, amazed with watching him eat. He shifts his glasses, blows, and plates around on his tray. He keeps his head down until he realizes I’m watching him, just drinking my coke.

“Something wrong?”

I shake my head, “No, not especially.”

“Then, could you stop watching me? It’s a little weird.”

“And you’re a little OCD.”

There is that goddamn blush again. It makes me want to pick him up and bend him over his chair. But I don’t think that he would be too keen on that idea.

“Maybe, just a little.”

“You’re very methodical,” I shrug. “I’m not making fun of you. It’s cute.”

“It’s not cute,” he rolls his eyes. “It’s obnoxious.”

“It’s endearing.”

“You just say that because you think you want to have sex with me.”

“I think? No, no, no. I know I want to have sex with you.” I finally take a bite of my plain burger. My stomach seems pleased, even if my tastebuds aren’t overly stimulated. “I don’t sleep with just anyone,” I tell him. “I’m rather easy, but you gotta be willing to play by my rules. You gotta met my criteria. Picking up guys is harder then you might think.”

“I never said anything about that. I just mean, you don’t want to have sex with ‘me’. You want to have sex with my body. You don’t actually care anything about ‘me’.”

I lean back in my chair, processing what he has just said. It made a lot of sense. I didn’t really give a crap at all about the guys I slept with. Most of them, I probably couldn’t even put a name to a face. And that was bad. Really bad. My head finally clicked together all of my dangerous activities over the last couple of months and I found a myriad of questions running through my head.

Had I used protection that first time? Did I swallow that one time with that guy in the Tech Ed building? What about that kid down the hall in the dorms? When was the last time I checked the expiration date on my stash of condoms?

“Luther? Are you okay? I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

“I’m not mad,” I shake my head.

“Are you sure? You look mad.”

“Mad at myself, not at you,” I shake my head again. “I’m just realizing I’m kind of a fuck up…and generally, a really bad person.”

He frowns, “You’re not a bad person.”

“You don’t even know me. And you should count yourself lucky that you said you weren’t interested in me –”

“I never said that I wasn’t interested in you. I just said I don’t have sex.”

“Whatever. Be glad.”

His frown deepens, “Do you have any idea what it’s like to be a nineteen year old virgin? And not like by choice either. I really wish I could be more like you.”

“More like me?”

“You may have noticed, I’m not exactly normal,” he raises an eyebrow. “I’d give anything to be flirty and promiscuous like you. But I can’t, because if I were to try that…it would just turn out horribly wrong.”

“Are you religious or something?”

He shakes his head, “Not at all. Just painfully shy and incapable of physical contact.”

“You let me hold your hand,” I point out.

“I let you, but I didn’t like it.”

I hum, trying to understand, but having trouble. “So…how do you do it?” I finally ask, “How do you abstain?”

“Umm, I don’t know. I guess I just kind of have become a shut-in. But, I obviously don’t proposition people, and people don’t proposition me.”

“Even people you find attractive?”

He looks shocked, “Especially not people I find attractive! I’m no Casanova! I stay in the background and try not to be noticed.”

“Well, that’s no way to get laid,” I roll my eyes.

“I want my first time to be special,” he looks down at his tray. His face is turning pink again. “I know that sounds stupid, but I want to be love, you know?”

“Honey, it could be years before you fall in love.”

“I can wait,” he shrugs, looking up at me again. “I mean, I don’t think I’m the kind of person who will find their soul mate and that’s going to be only person I’m ever with. I don’t want to be that kind of person. I want to fall in love. I want to have my heart broken. Does that sound weird?”

“No…not really.”

After we parted, I thought about what he said. And I realized, that maybe he had the right idea. He wasn’t saying no to me because he wanted to. He wasn’t even putting down the general idea of sex. He had a right to a ‘special’ first time. Deserved it even. And as I thought about it, the more I realized, that I had always wanted the same thing he did. To love, lose, and live to love again.

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