Categories > Original > Romance > One Day
Chapter Four:
What Was I Thinking?!
"Hey, Frank?" Sarah whispered, lightly poking my arm. I had my arms folded over my head, and my forehead pressed against the cool desk. "Frank? You just went, like, a million different shades of red." I still felt my face burning from earlier. Was I really daydreaming about Gerard?! Why?! Why was I daydreaming about him?! I don't even think I'm gay!
Am I?
The question stopped all sounds. It stopped all time. It stopped everything. It rang over and over in my head. It was like an echo, getting softer and softer, more natural, each time I asked it. Am I gay?
My eyes were opened wide as I stared at the desk top. My face burned less, but it still felt like was holding my head over an open flame. Was I?
"Frank? Are you ok?" Sarah asked again. She was leaning into to me and had her hand placed between my shoulder blades. "Frank?" She leaned closer and I felt her boobs press into my side. I wanted to shy away, but I stayed still, not wanting to be the odd one out on the first day in a new town.
"Uh... Yeah. I'm fine." I muttered to the desk. I really, really wanted to just bat her boob off of me and run away, screaming, but I decided to test my hypothesis. Am I gay?
Well, I hated how this foreign object felt on my side. I hated how she felt the need to put it onto me. I hated how she was breathing on my neck. I hated, well, everything about it. So, experiment one: Gay.
"Oh... Alright." She said, backing up. I felt better now that her gelatinous blob of fat and muscle was off of my side. Sure, other guys would have wanted it, but this one didn't.
I grunted in reply.
About a minute later, I heard paper ripping and felt another tap on my shoulder. My face wasn't nearly as hot as it was before, so I lifted my head to look at her. She was staring straight at the teacher, but she was sliding a piece of paper towards me. I looked at it and it had neatly scrawled letters and numbers on it. It said:
Hey, if you need to talk about anything... Here's my number.
255-949-2587
I stared at it for a moment, and then took it. I didn't want to be rude, so I took out a pen and scrawled my name and number onto the page she ripped. I glanced at her and she had a small smirk on her mouth.
I then returned back to my previous position of dying on my desk when my phone vibrated. I took it out to check who had texted me and it was an unfamiliar number. Number 255-949-2587... Wait. Sarah? I opened the text and it read:
Hey, Frankie! Just wanted to make sure this was you! Heehee!
What Was I Thinking?!
"Hey, Frank?" Sarah whispered, lightly poking my arm. I had my arms folded over my head, and my forehead pressed against the cool desk. "Frank? You just went, like, a million different shades of red." I still felt my face burning from earlier. Was I really daydreaming about Gerard?! Why?! Why was I daydreaming about him?! I don't even think I'm gay!
Am I?
The question stopped all sounds. It stopped all time. It stopped everything. It rang over and over in my head. It was like an echo, getting softer and softer, more natural, each time I asked it. Am I gay?
My eyes were opened wide as I stared at the desk top. My face burned less, but it still felt like was holding my head over an open flame. Was I?
"Frank? Are you ok?" Sarah asked again. She was leaning into to me and had her hand placed between my shoulder blades. "Frank?" She leaned closer and I felt her boobs press into my side. I wanted to shy away, but I stayed still, not wanting to be the odd one out on the first day in a new town.
"Uh... Yeah. I'm fine." I muttered to the desk. I really, really wanted to just bat her boob off of me and run away, screaming, but I decided to test my hypothesis. Am I gay?
Well, I hated how this foreign object felt on my side. I hated how she felt the need to put it onto me. I hated how she was breathing on my neck. I hated, well, everything about it. So, experiment one: Gay.
"Oh... Alright." She said, backing up. I felt better now that her gelatinous blob of fat and muscle was off of my side. Sure, other guys would have wanted it, but this one didn't.
I grunted in reply.
About a minute later, I heard paper ripping and felt another tap on my shoulder. My face wasn't nearly as hot as it was before, so I lifted my head to look at her. She was staring straight at the teacher, but she was sliding a piece of paper towards me. I looked at it and it had neatly scrawled letters and numbers on it. It said:
Hey, if you need to talk about anything... Here's my number.
255-949-2587
I stared at it for a moment, and then took it. I didn't want to be rude, so I took out a pen and scrawled my name and number onto the page she ripped. I glanced at her and she had a small smirk on her mouth.
I then returned back to my previous position of dying on my desk when my phone vibrated. I took it out to check who had texted me and it was an unfamiliar number. Number 255-949-2587... Wait. Sarah? I opened the text and it read:
Hey, Frankie! Just wanted to make sure this was you! Heehee!
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