Out of the Closet
by Victor Thomas
Chapter 22
Javier
I stared at the clock on the wall. The whiteboard was filled with notes and examples of math problems that were somehow supposed to help me learn whatever it was that we're supposed to be learning. None of it actually helped.
The whole day I had floated from class to class, talking to nobody, looking at no one, feeling like my mind was hardly connected to my body. And all of that because of a boy I hardly knew.
Why the hell am I wasting my time on him?
Soon, my thoughts drifted back to Kenny and the kiss. Not the one Hannah gave him this morning, but the one we had shared yesterday. I was sure his hands had touched me before his mother interrupted us and he had freaked out.
His lips were so soft, and the heat of the sun had simmered off his face. I imagined my fingers wondering towards his slender waist and grabbing his butt through his jeans. A moment later, I felt the inevitable stirring in my groin. I tried to stop it with my hand, but it kept growing. The tighter my pants became, the more it provoked my erection.
I adjusted my crotch as much as I could without drawing too much attention to myself. Frustrated at the situation with Kenny, I let out a sigh that was probably a little too loud for the class, and a couple of people chuckled. Mr. Douglas looked at me and raised his glasses.
"If you find this so boring, why don't you come up here and show us how you would solve this equation," he said, offering the marker pen to me.
"I think it's better for someone else to do it," I said, taking a better position on the chair.
"I want you to learn this too. Hurry up."
I slipped my left hand into the pocket of my tight jeans, walked to the whiteboard, and took the pen. Standing with my back toward my classmates, I studied the equation he had written on the board.
"The sum of the angles of this triangle is 360 degrees, isn't it?" I asked, glancing at the teacher.
"That would be a quadrangle," he said.
What the fuck is that, I thought, and kept staring at the symbols on the whiteboard. After a couple of minutes of intense thinking, I felt stupid. I hadn't managed to write anything, and the only result of my hard brainwork was my dying erection. Convenient, but it didn't help me solve the problem.
"Can I help?" asked a girl in the front row.
"Sure," I said, passing the pen to her before Mr. Douglas could intervene.
I had hardly returned to my seat when Janet had already solved the equation. Apparently, it wasn't that difficult; nothing was if you knew what you were doing. Unfortunately, math wasn't on my list of expertise. Afraid that I would fail the test, I followed carefully when Mr. Douglas explained the solution to everyone.
The bell rang and everybody stood up. I moved with the crowd toward the door, but Mr. Douglas stopped me.
"Have you thought of having someone tutor you?" he asked.
"Yeah," I answered.
"Who?"
It took too many seconds for me to answer. He marched to the door and closed it. Then he turned to look at me with glasses on the tip of his nose. After a moment of silence, he took the glasses in his hand and pointed at me with them.
"Listen. You really need…" he began.
"Kenny will tutor me," I blurted out.
"Kenny? Do you mean Kenny Sherman?"
I nodded enthusiastically, and the expression on his face became less doubtful. Only a little, but it was a good start. He moved closer and studied me carefully.
"Very well then," he said, still holding his glasses in his hand. "Maybe he can work miracles."
"Can I go now?" I asked.
He gestured to the door and began collecting his papers from the desk.
"I used to teach Jorge when he was here," he said suddenly. "You can do better."
Annoyed that the Jorge card had been played, I sighed, left the classroom, and walked toward my locker. The last period had ended, and the hallway was empty. Apparently, nobody wanted to spend more time at school than was necessary.
Except there was someone by my locker. Kenny was standing there, looking concerned.
With a glare, I opened the locker so the door was between us. I began stuffing my books into my backpack.
"Can we…" his voice came from behind the metal door. "Can we talk?"
"I have to go," I growled, slamming the door shut.
"Please."
I turned around and saw him, shifting from one foot to the other. It took a moment before he was able to stand still and make eye contact with me. It didn't last long though, and his constant side glances irritated me.
"Listen. I'm sorry that I kissed you. It was stupid," I said. "So why don't you go and find your girlfriend?"
It sounded more bitter than I had intended.
"Why are you mad at me?" he asked.
"Like you don't know," I snapped. "Because…" I continued, but my words trailed off.
The answer wasn't as simple as I had first thought. There was no reason for me to be angry with him. Me and him were not dating, and he hadn't done anything wrong. Except he had kissed his girlfriend right in front of me.
I'm jealous, I realized.
"Sorry, man. Just a rough day. Math and all," I said with an amicable voice.
"That's okay," he said, smiling a little. "I'm also sorry I had to send you away when my mom came home."
"I wish she hadn't come," I said, grinning. I moved closer to him. "But she isn't here now."
Our lips got closer to each other, but before they touched, the sound of footsteps came from around the corner. His face went severe, almost pale, and he backed up towards his locker on the other side of the hallway. I hoped whoever was coming would leave us alone, but my blood began boiling when I saw Chris coming around the corner.
"There you are," he said to Kenny. "Why are you still here? I need your help…"
Only then did Chris notice me. Our gazes met, and as expected, it wasn't an encounter full of love. We were like two boxers in the ring, staring at each other. From the corner of my eye, I saw Kenny holding his hand in front of his mouth.
"Are you hanging around here with this fag?" Chris asked.
He turned to look at Kenny, who shook his head quickly.
"No!" Kenny almost shouted. "We just happened to be here at the same time."
"Let's go then," Chris said.
Hardly believing my eyes, I watched as they left the hallway. Neither of them so much as gave me a tiny glance.
"It was nice to see you," I yelled when they were at the doors.
I meant it to Kenny, but it was Chris who replied with his right middle finger. And then the doors closed behind them.
I leaned against my locker. I wanted to hit it with my fist. I wanted to hit it so bad. But how would that help? Kenny Sherman was an idiot, and I just had to accept it. I waited a few minutes, and once I was sure they were both gone, I walked out the door.
Screw you, Kenny.
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