My charm and good looks could not only attract women like a magnet, it could attract men too.
Chapter 2 - Crush
I watched Mikey's ailing attempt at picking up the basketballs, trying to take more than he could handle. They fell out of his arms and bounced across the gym, only creating more work. I chuckled to myself quietly, enjoying the show. I never really thought to try and help him. Once Mikey had managed to put all the balls in their place I decided, I would help. Normally I wouldn't have even bothered, but my gym grade was important. If I failed gym, I lost all chance of getting a scholarship. No scholarship meant no college, and no college meant I couldn't prove my entire family wrong. I'd always been about showing off whenever the opportunity presented itself. I was no shrink or anything, but I was pretty sure my need for this attention mainly stemmed from the need to make up for my vertical disability, if you know what I mean. This was another reason I took to the game of basketball, height was often neccesary, so I practiced until I was better than those twice my size.
I resentfully began pushing the bleachers in, using all the strength I had. Normally, two guys had difficulty getting them to budge, but I proved I could do it alone, even if only to myself. I looked over to the next set to see Mikey trying to push them in all on his own. The poor kid, I thought. I knew what Mikey was trying to do; he was trying to impress me. I stood, watching him struggle for a while, finally he stopped, and decided to move onto the mats.
I'd known about Mikey's crush on me for a while. Since it was one of my friends that broke the news to me, I had to put on this facade that the fact had grossed me out when really, it amused me. I was by no means gay, but the fact that my charm and good looks could not only attract women like a magnet, it could attract men too, was very exciting to me.
I pushed the second set of bleachers in with ease, then sauntered over to Mikey. My entourage wasn't around to see me, so I decided to be nice to him, maybe flirt with him, all in jest of course. I loved nothing more than to get a reaction out of people whether it be good or bad.
"Hey Mikey, need some help?" I asked, in the most sultry voice I could compose.
I watched as the boy's eyes widened behind his glasses. Without a word, keeping his gaze on the mat he was folding, he shook his head. His cheeks were crimson. I enjoyed this way more than I should have.
"Are you sure, they look really heavy." I exaggerated. They actually looked as light as cardboard, but still I fiddled with my lip ring coyly when Mikey finally stood up and looked at me.
His eyes searched mine, as if looking for some sort of answer. "Do you have split personality disorder or something?" he said, bolder now than he had in the locker room.
I shrugged, nonchalant, "Maybe." I smiled my most dazzling smile. "Let me help, please." I batted my eyelashes the way girls did whenever they wanted something.
Confusion colored Mikey's face, an agitated crease appearing between his eyebrows. "Frank, I have to be outta here in like..." he glanced at a watched on his wrist. "Seven minutes, or I'm going to miss my bus." he said, with this new found confidence that I had no idea the shy creature possessed. Maybe it was crowds of people that intimidated him, and not me, and this was annoying. I felt this strange desire to appear daunting to Mikey.
"You've never talked to me like this," I stated, feeling strangely vulnerable.
An annoyed sigh exited through Mikey's nostrils. "Yeah, well, you've never had the decency to talk to me either, so I guess we're even." I stood, defiantly, with my arms folded across my chest. Why Mikey's new found attitude bothered me so much was unknown to me. "Look, Frank, can you finish up here I really have to go home."
I contemplated, but didn't want to appear weak in any way, shape or form. "No, if you just let me help you, it'll get done faster."
A disconcerted scoff escaped his mouth. "Yeah, lot's of help." he uttered.
"And I can drive you home if you're going to be such a dipshit about it," I said, spinning on my heels toward the array of jerseys spread around the milk crate they belonged in. With two giant handfuls they were all in their container, and were carried to the equipment room. Only then did I realize what I had just offered to do. "Fuck."