Out of the Closet
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 12
Javier
I looked at my hair in the mirror and grinned. I opened the top drawer and searched for hair wax. When I couldn't find it, I checked the other drawers too, but the wax wasn't there. This couldn't be a coincidence; the wax was missing right when I needed it the most.
I can't meet Kenny and look like this, I thought, glancing at my watch. It confirmed what I had feared; I should leave for the mall soon.
Wanting to be there on time, I stomped into my room, opened the closet, and began searching for something nice to wear. The red t-shirt and the light blue jeans would have been perfect, but thanks to my dumb ass brother, those were trashed.
Kenny must have liked those, I thought, reminding myself we were not going on a date. Or were we? The question loomed over me like an invisible giant.
There was something in him that made me wish for something much more than friendship. He was intelligent, his face and longish light brown hair were cute in their own unique way, and I was more than eager to study his body closer. And what was best, he wanted to hang out with me. He had suggested it in his peculiar way, which put a smile on my face.
Of course, there were cons as well, an enormous one; he had a girlfriend.
Why am I doing this, I asked myself, as I sat down on the bed. I had chatted with some college freshman on a dating sight last night. The guy was eager to meet me, probably much more than I was interested in seeing him. He had refused to send his picture.
Even though I should be heading to the mall already, I took my laptop and opened the dating site. I browsed through the list of guys who were online, but closed the lid quickly. The assortment was disappointing; it was almost too obvious why those guys were looking for company.
I need to know if he's interested in me, I decided, taking a pink dress shirt from my closet. It would match well enough with my black jeans. I was buttoning the shirt when I heard the front door open and then footsteps approaching my room.
"Isn't that quite gay?" Jorge asked, stopping at my door.
"Was it you who vandalized my car?" I asked.
I stood up and fisted my hands.
"You didn't like it?" he asked. He took a couple of steps toward the dresser where the keys lay. "Now that you have it fixed, I need to borrow it. Mine is out of gas."
"Give them back!" I roared, rushing after him to the living room.
I tried to get the keys from my older brother, but he was stronger than me and kept them out of my reach easily. As if that wasn't bad enough, the bastard ran his hand through my hair and messed it up as much as he could before I backed up.
"Fucking idiot!" I yelled. I turned toward dad who had come from the kitchen. "He took my car keys. I need my car now."
Dad looked at him and raised his eyebrows.
"I'll just borrow it for ten minutes," Jorge said. "I'll get more gas from the station."
"No! I need to leave now," I protested.
Besides, the gas tank on his car being completely empty sounded ludicrous.
It was in vain, though. I should have guessed that, of course. Dad would let him borrow the car. The loser always got everything he wanted. Despite the angry look I gave dad, Jorge had already walked out the front door.
"He'll be back soon, and then you'll get the car," dad said, disappearing back into the kitchen. "Patience, young man."
I snorted and walked out onto the porch. I should have been on my way to the mall already, and now the dumb ass was stepping into my car. What if Kenny wasn't there waiting for me when I finally got my car back?
"Hey! Don't you need a gas can for the gas?" I shouted.
Under normal circumstances, I would have gladly let him leave without it so he would need to visit the station twice, but now I didn't want to waste a second.
"I changed my mind. I don't think I'll need it," he said.
He sat behind the steering wheel and closed the door.
As soon as the message sank in, I rushed to the yard in my bare feet. There wasn't time to get the shoes I had planned to wear, and I would have run there butt naked to save my car. Unfortunately, Jorge had already started the engine, and I was only a few yards from the car when it sped up and turned the corner. I ran after it, but lost the competition. My car was gone, and who knew when I would see it next.
Fucking idiot! What am I going to do now, I thought, crouching on the street. I was breathing heavily, but not because of running after the car. It was pure anger that flared in my veins.
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