About : standard furniture sizes uk
Title : standard furniture sizes uk
standard furniture sizes uk
turning 16written by perie wolford and michelle doering narrated by michael pauley chapter 1 the year is 1985. the month is april. theday is monday. and also, it is my birthday.thankfully, i’m not awake just yet. the bright, obnoxiously cheerful morning lightis coming through my window, but i’m still there in my bed snoozing away, peaceful andhappy; not yet aware that my least favorite day of the year has settled into existenceall around me.
i fell asleep watching sixteen candles onvhs last night and, as always, it captured my heart. now i’m blissfully dreaming aboutjake… only, it’s not jake from the movie. it’sjake from my school, jake timbers, and just like his fictional namesake, jake is a jock,the permanent and unrivaled king of arcadia high. he has an expensive and totally drool-worthycar, a gigantic horde of friends and followers who warship him, and a majorly sexy girlfriend.i’m not a fan of hers. anyway, jake is jogging across the school’sfootball stadium, which coincidentally has his name plastered on it due to his father’s“charitable donation†a couple years back. i suspect it was more about appearances thancharity, but it provides me a nice viewing
angle, so i’m cool with it either way.jake is the quarterback, an overrated position in my opinion, but he’s definitely goodat it—i’d even heard rumors about him being scouted by universities, practicallyunheard of considering he’s only a sophomore. he’s not as bulky as the defensive playerson the team, but he’s still very muscular, lithe and quick, with perfectly toned throwingarms. during the spring, before the weather gets too hot, he often comes out here to jogand warm up after school. most of these days i am lurking nearby, doing some warming upof my own if you catch my drift. luckily he doesn’t know about that.sometimes i wish he did though. it’s hard work keeping my feelings to myself all thetime. not owning up to them just makes me
feel like i’m telling the entire world onelong and continuous lie, ya know? but that lie is necessary; for more reasons than one.so yeah…no confessions from me, just admiration from afar.in this particular dream jake is wearing those standard tiny red gym shorts; the ones thatare incredibly aerodynamic and leave very little to the imagination. i don’t knowwho the hell invented them and made them standard issue, but that person definitely has my gratitude.he’s also wearing a runaround t-shirt that is becoming increasingly wet as his workoutintensifies. and soon enough, almost like clockwork, hesheds the shirt and begins to cool his heated body in the morning breeze.i look on, as i often do (in my dreams and
in real life), with multiple forms of envy.jake is only 16, like i am. but unlike me, he already has the body of a grown man. iguess he has sports to thank for that, or his parents’ good genes, or both. in anycase, those muscles he has on his chest are fantastic. i can’t keep myself from staringat them. unfortunately, he notices me noticing.he is headed my way now and my heart is working overtime. relax, sam, relax!he approaches me. suddenly i am frozen. i’m like a statue.a statue with a blitz of meaningless mind babble: what’s wrong with me? god, i’msweating. is it noticeable? i think i’m paralyzed. what do i do?!he smiles at me deviously. then, unbelievably,
he takes my hand and puts it onto his chest!“what are you doing?†i ask, my voice octaves higher than it should be. i can feelthe warmth of his skin under my fingertips. his heart is beating steadily beneath them.no. this cannot be happening. “i wanted to feel you on my skin,†hesays, confident, not at all shy. he’s not angry or ashamed, just smoldering.“don’t you like it?†he stares up at me with twinkling blue eyes. the kind you—welli—can’t help but get lost in. “yeah,†i breathe out stupidly.his eyes are locked on mine, a sultry smile playing smoothly across his handsome face.“touch me…†he says finally, trailing off in a way that makes my imagination runwild.
“i already am touching you,†i manageto choke out, not willing to acknowledge the sexy notes in his voice, but still hopingthey ring true. “no,†he whispers with a crooked smile.“touch me there…†he takes my hand and lowers it right downhis torso, my fingertips barely brushing against slick washboard abs until…oh lord! thatis too much. no… no… ahhhh! “sam! get up! you’ll be late for school!â€and just like that reality comes crashing down around me like an eighteen-wheeler.“coming mom!†i shout, trying to shake the memory of skin against skin.tentatively, i reach down into my shorts and
yep, there’s all the evidence right there—alot of it too. ya know, i totally get that a wet dream is perfectly normal and everything,but that doesn’t make it any less awkward, especially factoring in the subject of saidwet dream. sighing and feeling completely less than stellar, i close my eyes, partlyashamed of my fantasy and overall infatuation with jake timbers and equally ashamed of myshame. like, why does everything have to be so weird and messed up and complicated? whycan’t i just feel what i feel and be done with it?it takes me a couple of minutes to brace myself and get up from the bed. for one thing, there’san unfortunate amount of sticky goo in my pants that i have to go take care of. andalso, i’m not looking forward to today at
all. a happy birthday? not likely.i reach down into the drawer of my desk and take out a hidden stack of photos. no, it’snot porn! i don’t keep my porn in the drawers. even i’m not that lame. it’s my own personalcollection of ghosts from birthdays past. i keep them here as a reminder of all thosetruly gag-worthy moments; lest i forget and try to actually enjoy my birthday.my birthdays have never been happy. exhibit a: here is a photo of me when i turned one.i’m such a cute little blue-eyed baby you say? wrong! the next thing you know that cutebaby-boy is gonna fall face-down into his cheerfully-colored birthday cake. exhibitb: a photo of me turning five. i look so radiant and happy on my new bike you say? wrong again!don’t be fooled. there i am a couple hours
later with a cast on my left arm. exhibitc: here is the one where i turned seven with a cast on both my arm and my leg. i don’teven remember how that happened; that’s how used to these experiences i am. but whatreally takes the cake (pun intended) is the day i turned twelve. my house totally wentup in flames, but alas, there’s no picture for that, just one very sad news-clipping.most times it doesn’t really bother me. over the years i’ve just slowly come tothe conclusion that this particular day of the year is cursed for me; like my very ownpersonal friday the 13th. usually i can just hunker down and make it through the worstof it. but now i am turning sixteen, a relatively “important†number, and i just can’tshake the feeling that something is about
to go horribly, wretchedly wrong. dressed now, casually as usual in my run dmct-shirt and jeans, i make my way downstairs, following the smell of the freshly-cookedpancakes. ron and julia, my younger siblings, are perched at the table and shoveling foodinto their mouths. dad has already left for work, thank god. not that i don’t like myold man or anything. it’s just that there’s one less person at the table to wish me happybirthday. which is definitely a good thing, believe me. my evil birthday gremlins cansmell well-wishes from a mile away. “well, look who finally decided to showup,†ron says, glancing up from his plate. he’s twelve now and totally in need of amajor chill pill. he doesn’t have a respectful
bone in his body.“don’t talk to him like that, you dipstick,†julia says, defending me in her own weirdlyinappropriate way. “it’s his birthday!†“oh yeah? and what he was doing upstairsso long, giving himself a birthday present?†ron snaps.“shut your mouth you dweeb-o-rama!†she counters and smacks his forehead with herspoon. “make me!†ron lifts up his spoon eagerly,ready to retaliate. “i will, believe me,†julia replies, deadlycalm. “come on, i’m ready for it!â€â€œthat’s enough! ron, you be nice!†my mother finally snaps at him, effectively shuttingdown the argument. must be some super-secret
mom power or something.“okay, okay, keep your wig on,†ron says, getting up to place his plate in the sink.“it is his birthday. i better keep myself away. i wouldn’t want to get my hair seton fire or anything.†i cringe. eleven; i’d almost forgotten aboutthat one since it didn’t directly happen to me. that year my birthday candles had effectivelyturned a six year old ron into a human torch. needless to say, there are no longer any candleson my birthday cakes, and now there’s a fire extinguisher in our house. two actually.i sit down at the table and wait for the bombs to start dropping. julia is not much of athreat. she’s not gonna wish me a happy birthday since she knows good and well thati don’t like it, but my mom doesn’t believe
in the curse. my muscles tense up in preparation.it’s already starting. i watch in horror as she abandons her pan on the stove, andapproaches me, planting her standard “birthday kiss†on my forehead. the next thing youknow the words are gonna leave her mouth... happy…i brace myself, but suddenly the phone starts ringing, cutting her off midsentence. thankthe sweet lord! she goes to pick it up, her mane of featheredblonde hair trailing several inches behind her. “hello?†she answers.it’s uncle jack calling, i’m sure. their entire family of seven is gonna be movinginto one of the houses on our street today. they’ve been talking about it forever, buti never actually thought they would go through
with it. the thought of having so many relativesin close proximity is infinitely nauseating to me, but i guess there’s really not muchi can do about it. i’m still gonna be coerced into celebrating with everyone tonight—evenmy grandparents are coming. and of course they’re all too damn lovingand thoughtful to completely forget my birthday even exists.immediately i start stuffing my face with pancakes in hopes that i’ll be able to avoidany sort of conversation with my uncle. you see, uncle jack is a man of very few words,most of those words being rather unpleasant. case in point:“sam, honey, uncle jack is asking if you could help him move the furniture in thisafternoon,†my mom tells me still holding
the phone to her ear.i sigh dramatically, of course he is. it’s not like he has five kids of his own to doit or anything. i nod sullenly and she relays the informationto uncle jack. i catch julia’s eye from across the table and she gives me a sympatheticsmile that does manage to make me feel a little better.chewing fast, i swallow my last bite of pancake and jump up from the table. i manage to patmy sister’s head affectionately and give my mother a quick kiss on the cheek in onefluid motion and then make a beeline for the door.“honey?†she shouts after me, but i’m already outside.“i’ll be late for the bus,†i shout
as the door closes.as soon as i’m in the clear i indulge myself in a small victory smile.mission accomplished! she didn’t say it. now i have to make sure nobody else does either. for some reason most of the students at myhigh school seem to magically acquire cars and licenses the moment they turn the bigone six. sadly though, i am not one of them. because why actually try to look cool whenthere’s public transportation that just shows up conveniently at the corner everymorning, just a-waitin’ to take you to the most fun-ducational place on the planet?ugh. eye roll. anyway, i look out the window as we drivedown the suburban street, mostly staying on
the lookout for potential birthday catastrophes.but as far as i can see, the world looks sun-shiny and marvelous.satisfied, that the bus isn’t gonna hit a rogue scrunchie and then burst into flames,i turn my thoughts inward. this week is shaping up to be pretty eventful. today is my birthday.tomorrow it’s the school science fair. wednesday kicks off a whole day of football practicesbefore a very important post-season charity game—and of course, that means i’m bookedas a full-time spectator. thursday is joanne mcalister’s party at jake’s house, towhich i’m sort of invited. not that i’d want to go (joanne being jake’s girlfriendand all), but i think my friend melissa is gonna force me. then again, jake is probablygonna be there. i mean, it’s his house.
and finally, topping it all off is our annualspring fling on friday. so yeah, things are pretty crazy right now.i don’t like it at all. i prefer stability and control, especially this time of year.i just think that whenever a lot of stuff is happening at the same time, you tend tolose perspective and get carried away with the motion. you miss all the important details,the ones that always come back and bite you in the ass. or at least i do.the bus stops and i get up from my seat. almost immediately i connect with a solidwall of human flesh and completely wipe out. my books scatter and i flounder, trying toquietly round them up without making a spectacle of myself, which of course doesn’t happen—everyonethinks it’s hysterical.
i look up and see mitch blake. so it was himwho stumbled against me. he is reaching down to help me up, but i scramble to my feet andpush him away. i know he probably didn’t mean for that to happen, but i snap at himanyway, “what the hell, mitch!†“it was an accident, sorry,†he says.he is sorry. i can see it in his eyes. he’s surprised by the strength of my reaction.he doesn’t know that it’s not him that i am angry with. it’s the whole birthdaything. i know how it works. this incident is just the catalyst; the one crappy eventthat will end up ballooning out of control and make my day a living hell and i’m notat all excited to see where my day goes from here.mitch sheepishly collects all of my books
and i work on calming myself down. he obviouslydidn’t want to pick a fight with me or anything, so i shouldn’t pick one either. i guessit is just my general reaction towards the straight guys. i jump into defense mode instantaneously.it’s better to be safe than sorry. or, in my case, better safe than bleeding in a ditchsomewhere. people can be such pricks. i look back up at him. he is not a small guy,mitch, and a football player too. i shouldn’t have snapped at him like that. he could breakme in half like a twig if he wanted to. but he doesn’t.“you kinda just walked right into me,†he explains. “it’s not really my fault.â€he’s right. i don’t want to admit it, but he’s right. i just spotted jake’scherry red porsche 944 as it drove past our
bus and i was too busy looking at it to noticemitch. i guess i’m getting a little too obsessed with jake these days.or am i? i mean, i’ve had a crush on him forever. and it’s not just a physical attraction.there’s something about him that suggests a sensitive soul and delicate nature. i’mnot making it up, i swear! i’ve been watching the guy for a while now. and i don’t know…allthose sweet sentiments just scream gay to me. i suppose that is why i am attracted toguys who have those qualities. it takes one to know one.so basically, jake has it all. the only thing i wish he didn’t have is a girlfriend. andno, i don’t feel bad about calling her a thing.“yeah, sorry man,†i say, backpedalling
to cover up my vast overreaction. “it wasan accident.†it’s hard for me to start admitting my fault here after i already snappedat him, but i’m trying to sound friendlier now.“yeah,†he responds with an equally friendly tone, “that’s kinda what i said.†hesmiles and hands me my books, all animosity replaced by gentle teasing.“thanks,†i tell him as we finally leave the bus. i’m still pretty embarrassed, butdecide not to dwell on it too much. it could’ve been so much worse.entering campus, i scan my surroundings, just as i did on the bus, hoping to avoid moreembarrassing screw-ups. at first nothing seems out of ordinary, but after closer scrutinyi pick up on the fact that the majority of
the student body seems happy and downrightchipper even though it’s a monday. what the heck? nobody likes mondays!mitch swings his backpack so that it rests on both shoulders instead of the one he previouslyhad it slung over. “see you around,†he says without sparing me another glance.i watch him walk away. he’d be pretty cute if he wasn’t so… so… i don’t know.he doesn’t dress all that well. well, he is a straight boy and they rarely dress well.also, he has that punk thing going on. and i don’t really like punk rock music. buti think he’s into that lighter “pop-punk†which is actually not terrible. but he doeswear tight "drainpipe" jeans and occasionally a leather jacket which is adorned with differentband logos and some scary-looking pins and
buttons. also, he has very long and messyhair, which i despise. i don’t think guys with long hair are all that attractive.on the other hand, he is sweet, and that adds on about fifty points in the cute department.but either way, he is straight and it doesn’t matter anyway because the only person i likeis jake. jake is the only thing that makes me hurryto school every morning. he is the reason why that soul-sucking building made of yellowfaced bricks doesn’t even look all that bad anymore.how could i even entertain thoughts of anyone else? the hallway is crowded, or overcrowded i guessi should say. the students are buzzing about,
stopping to chat in large clique-ish chunksthat create major roadblocks for the rest of us all across the way. i make my way tomelissa’s locker, using my elbows to part the see of teenagers. thank god she is alreadythere. “hey,†i say, smiling, comforted by herfamiliar presence. “hey,†she responds with a smirk.my smile dissolves. “don’t you dare say it,†i warn her.“are you sure?†she asks. “i kinda feel compelled.â€â€œdon’t!†i say as she reaches in and grabs some books from her locker. “i alreadypractically tasted the floor of the school bus this morning. i don’t want a repeatperformance.â€
she makes a face. “i’m sure it was anaccident and that it had nothing to do with your birthday,†she looks at me meaningfully.“don’t say that word either,†i say, giving her one of my very best glares. “andit was an accident. i’m not saying it wasn’t. i’m saying if it wasn’t for my… youknow what… there wouldn’t have been an accident to begin with.â€she shakes her head. “it’s all in your head, sam. you are making a bigger deal ofit than it actually is.†“it’s not in my head,†i hiss, readyto defend myself, but then i notice that jake timbers is looking at me and all other thoughtscease to exist. he is standing on the other side of the hall, surrounded by jocks andhis personal assortment of lackeys. our eyes
meet for a split second—just the briefestof moments—and then he turns away like it never happened, a calm, confident smile plasteredon his face. but i know it happened. thank god melissa is taking her time fishingaround in her locker. she doesn’t even notice my drool session. and also i’m pretty surei’m blushing. jake was looking at me! i feel like doing a happy dance. i mean jaketimbers is the best gift i could possibly wish for on my birthday. he’s the only giftthat i really even want. melissa finishes collecting her books andshuts her locker with a distinctive slam that takes me out of my wonderfully treacherousbirthday thoughts. “come on, we’re gonna be late for theclass,†she says and i follow her, mentally
chastising myself for even thinking aboutthe b-word. i need to be more careful. melissa and i take our usual seats side byside in the back our history class, amid all the angst-y couples trying to get as far awayfrom the teacher’s prying eyes as possible. some of our less observant peers might lumpus right on into that category as well, but we’re just friends. melissa’s cool withthat. she doesn’t know that i’m gay though. well, i presume she doesn’t. we never actuallytalked about it—i mean, the words were never said, but i’ve got this gut feeling thatshe knows about it anyway. i guess i do make it pretty obvious sometimes. but anyway, shetreats me just like a girlfriend, not in a lesbian way but in a best-friend kind of way.and i guess i am technically one of her “girlfriends.â€
i don’t think girls talk to straight guysabout sex much. and me and melissa, we do. she also frequently asks my opinion on boysthat she likes, and unlike me, she has a lot of them.unexpectedly, mitch saunters in a few moments before the bell and takes the seat directlybehind me. i think i’m okay with that, just a little surprised is all. but i guess i shouldn’tbe. mitch has never been mean to me, unlike the other guys on the football team—notcounting jake of course, who is never really mean to anybody unless they mess with himfirst—and if this morning was any indication, he might actually be someone i could genuinelyget along with. but it soon becomes very clear that mitchis gonna be listening to his walkman the entire
period and i’m not too jazzed about that.i’m not at all into the kind of music that he likes, well other than the descendants.i sigh loudly and place my head in my hands. well, it is my birthday. i kinda expectedshitty things like this to be happening. again, i guess it could be worse.i look back at him and there he goes putting his headphones on and hitting the play button.i brace myself for a totally awful ear assault when suddenly i hear:happy, happy birthday in a hot bath to those nice nice nights.i remember always always i got such a fright. seeing them in my dark cupboard with my greatbig cake. if they were meif they were me
and i was youand i was you if they were meand i was you would you have liked a present too?yes, it’s that one song from the movie, happy birthday by the altered images. normallyi would have loved that tune, me being a fan of the movie and all. but not today! i didn’teven know mitch listened to that kind of music. my palms are sweating. oh god, this is gonnabe bad. i can feel it. it’s gonna be really, really bad!why is he listening to it anyway? is it on purpose? he couldn’t possibly know it wasmy birthday. and even if he did, he wouldn’t be that cruel to me, would he? is this somekind of revenge for me yelling at him on the
bus this morning? no, i’m being silly. hewouldn’t have time to prepare that song even if he did want to get back at me. itis probably just another unlucky coincidence, the second one today involving mitch. somethingreally weird is happening here. melissa nudges my shoulder, distracting meyet again. i glance up at the teacher just as a precaution, but as usual, mr. jacobsis busy blabbering away to himself up at the front of the class. the dude’s getting tooold for this job—he clearly can’t see or hear much of anything anymore. almost everystudent is engaged in some sort of personal conversation at this point.“are you coming to the party this thursday?†she asks. i haven’t really decided yet.“i haven’t really decided yet,†i say,
echoing my thoughts.“you better decide,†she says, a little annoyed with me. “i don’t want to go bymyself.†“don’t go then.â€â€œdon’t go then,†she mimics me. “i want to go, just not alone.â€â€œfine,†i say just to get her off my back. plus jake is gonna be there and i want tohave an extra chance to see him. we don’t have any classes together and the only timei really get to see him is at football practice (or in my dreams of course). seeing him inanother kind of environment would be nice. it’s just that i don’t want to see joannevery much. yes, i am jealous, but it’s not just that.she really is a total bitch.
i seriously don’t get why jake is goingout with her. yes, she is beautiful and rich and her well-to-do parents “approve†oftheir relationship. but is it all it takes to win him over? i don’t want to believethat. i mean, he’s not a dumb jock—in fact, i’m pretty sure he made the honorroll last semester. surely he has to have seen what a truly vile person she is at somepoint. it’s not like she’s trying that hard to hide it.“hey, sam?†mitch whispers and taps my shoulder. i immediately put the brakes onmy inner monologue and turn around. “can i borrow your pen?†he asks. i cansee a torn piece of paper in his hand. apparently he wants to write a note to somebody. buthe doesn’t have a pen or a pencil. i mean
he wouldn’t be much of a punk if he wascarrying around school supplies i suppose. “sure,†i say, handing him one of my sparepens. “you can keep it.†“thanks,†he says, softly. he is lookingat me in a weird way right now. i don’t know what it is. i can’t put my finger onit. there’s something unusual in his eyes, something i haven’t seen before. it’skinda creeping me out. “you’re welcome,†i mumble and turnaway. so, where was i? yes, i was thinking aboutjake… time for a brief lesson in public high schoolarchitecture kiddos. so i already told you that our school has this old center buildingwhere we have most of our classes, or at least
i meant to—i’m not all that great at focusing,okay? anyway, the gigantic stadium-sized blob of a building which doubles as our cafeteriais situated just to the left of that. it used to be attached to the main school buildinga couple years ago, but at some point in the late seventies some rich dudes with nothingbetter to invest in decided to pay to have them separated.so basically, now there’s this gap between the two wings. it is small and awkwardly situatedso that nothing else fits there. naturally, that’s where all the “cool kids†hangout. well at least it used to be.then everybody found out about it and who wouldn’t want to be considered cool, right?so now, at any given moment, it’s practically
flooded with a million mindless drones desperateto climb the social latter. needless to say, i am one of them.melissa and i have managed to stake claims on our own special spot inside the gap, asmall, barely perceptible niche in the wall where we can both sit comfortably and remainhidden from the majority of prying eyes. it also happens to be a good spot for me to indulgein my favorite pastime; watching jake. he is hanging out with some kids from thefootball team as usual and also the ice princess joanne. she’s wrapped her possessive clawsso tightly around him i’m surprised he hasn’t turned blue from the lack of oxygen to hishandsome little face. “she’s such a bitch, isn’t she?†melissasays, noting my gaze and accurately guessing
my feelings, as usual. “i can’t believepeople even like her. she’s just blatantly vile literally all the time. i mean, she hasher looks and everything, if you’re into bimbettes, but there’s nothing pretty onthe inside.†“yeah,†i say shortly. i couldn’t haveput it better myself. the way melissa hates joanne you’d think she was either jealousor in love with her, but it really just stems from her need to constantly speak her mind.melissa has no tolerance for silly, shallow people who do nothing but play games, particularlybottle-blondes named joanne. suddenly the hairs on the back of my neckrise to attention and i feel that prickly sensation of being watched. i momentarilytune out melissa’s prattle about specific
peers and their supposed level of bitchinessand turn my gaze back to jake. our eyes meet momentarily and i immediately whip my headback around in embarrassment. dear god! twice in the same day? it must be some sick birthdayjoke. conflicting emotions flood my brain. do i dare look at jake again and expose myself?yes… no? ugh. this is so complicated! casually, i cast my gaze in the opposite direction,deciding to play hard to get on the off chance jake really is burning a hole into the backof my skull with his rad pair of baby blues. but my bubble immediately bursts once i seethat it’s not jake, but mitch who is staring intently in my direction. no, scratch that.he is staring at melissa. well, that’s understandable. melissa ispretty hot. if i wasn’t gay i’d be all
over her—i think. so that’s what’s goingon with him, i think, happily putting two and two together. mitch likes melissa! thatexplains why he was sitting behind me in class today, and that note he was writing was probablyfor her. good for him! i shout mentally. at least theboy has better taste in chicks than he does in music. but then i think better of the wholenotion and let out a dejected sigh. he doesn’t have a chance with melissa. poor sap! melissawouldn’t even let him get close enough to make an impression. mitch is a pretty decentguy, but unfortunately, melissa doesn’t do well with decent. she’s usually attractedto douchebags. if only mitch could lose the long hair andget himself a pair of jeans that didn’t
look like they’d been brutally murderedlast october…that still wouldn’t help him win melissa over, but it would probablyhelp him find a nice girl who would appreciate him.“sam?†melissa practically shouts in my ear.“what?†i ask, guiltily jerking back to attention.“are you listening?†“yes,†i say, less convincingly than ihad hoped. melissa rolls her eyes, but mercifully letsit slide. “i’m borrowing my dad’s car this thursday. do you want me to pick youup?†she asks. “yeah, sure,†i say. “it’s not likemy parents are gonna cave and let me get my
license anytime soon.â€she snorts, but then immediately returns to her annoyingly blunt self. “you aren’tgiving your parents enough credit.†“and how is that?†i say with an eye rollof my own. “they love you and they care about you,â€she says in her smug i-know-that-i’m-right-voice. “well, they don’t love me enough to getme a car,†i mumble under my breath, but i can’t really contradict her nonetheless.“by the way,†she continues with ease. “i have a present for you.†i give hera warning glare. presents work the same way as the happy birthday line. the cooler thegift the more it backfires. “i’m not gonna give it to you today,â€she corrects herself. “i couldn’t, even
if i wanted to. it kinda has to get here first.but it’s very cool. you’ll love it.†“okay, i’m sure i will,†i say, brightening.“just not today.†after class i’m lurking around the outskirtsof the practice field as usual, reflecting upon my day. after lunch everything was practicallytextbook. i mean, nothing out of the ordinary at all. crazy right? but i’m not lettingmy guard down just yet. i have way too many birthday scars to make that mistake.abruptly a bus-sized human emerges on my right. “give me that, you asswipe!†one of thefootball players demands of me as he snatches one of the towels from my stack.i internally glare at him, taking pleasure in the fact that these standard-issue towelshave probably been collecting dust and god
knows what else in the school’s supply closetfor at least a decade now. as you may have guessed, i am not athleticallyinclined. that being said, the only way i can stalk jake timbers at practice is if ivolunteer as towel boy. “thanks!†car-boy says sarcastically andthrows his sweaty towel at my face. okay, okay, calm down, i tell myself. it’sworth it. he’s worth it.with a longing sigh i return my gaze to jake. the team is only warming up today, so he isnot wearing his uniform, which is yellow and white with timbers written on the back inred block letters just above his number, 12. twelve is his lucky number. don’t ask mehow i know that, it may present some legal
issues.anywho, i love him in his uniform, but i love him in his tiny red shorts even more. he looksjust like he did in my dream this morning; absolutely scrumptious, but this time my pantswill remain dry; i assure you. “this game is very important for the school,i hope you understand that,†i overhear ms. anderson, our school’s principal, sayto coach millwood as they move in closer to observe the team. she is really taking thischarity game far too seriously. especially considering we already won the state championshipthis year. “don’t you worry, principal anderson,everything’s gonna be as expected,†coach reassures her.“i certainly hope so,†she says firmly,
leaving the phrase for your sake unspoken,but still painfully clear. she is a total hardass, that woman. she’s never been marriedand she lives alone with her cats (lord only knows how many). she’s got these totallyugly bags under her eyes that make-up, for all of its glory, still can’t seem to hide,and the abundance of wrinkles around them is the result of her reading tons of administrativepapers, i’m guessing. the two of them don’t even acknowledge myexistence, even though they are standing about two feet away. i’m not too offended by it.they’re both even bigger wannabes than i am; both hoping to cash in on the team’ssuccess. mrs. edelson, our principal’s assistant,gives me a sympathetic smile though. she is
currently our “water-girl†since i amthe only volunteer and i’m busy with the towels.now, you may be wondering why they can’t just set the towels and water on a table orsomething. i don’t damn well know the answer to that one, but i’m hoping the thoughtnever occurs to them! ignoring everything else, i find jake amongthe players and start following him with my eyes. there is so much grace in his movements,the way each one is so smooth and fluid, seamlessly blending right on into the next one. and yet,he never once drops his unquestionable air of masculinity. it really is quite astounding.i’m practically one thousand percent sure that i am the only person on the face of theearth who would ever dare suspect him of being
gay.“johns! watch your left arm,†coach millwood shouts, startling me and several of the players.“walovski! just get out of my sight! that was terrible!†he shouts again.the coach is obviously laying it on thick so that anderson will think he’s got everythingunder control. you see, coach millwood is a little more into the bottle than the gamethese days, not that anyone would ever say anything. he’s a pretty cool dude, drinkingaside. but yeah, he’s rightfully concerned about job security.smirking, i tune back into the game. i watch as someone throws a football to jake and hecatches it easily. as a quarterback, his throwing arm is the real prize, but like i said, hehas the total package. he throws it back at
whoever threw it at him and repeats the processseveral times until somebody throws the ball just out of his reach. the ball flies rightover his head and falls down on the floor. it rolls in my direction, stopping just acouple feet away from where i stand. ridiculously, my initial thoughts are somethingalong the lines of: oh! well, hello little football, pleasure to meet you!i stand stalk-still, stating at the ball with wide eyes because, for all my talk about thedamn thing, i’m not usually the one to touch it. i expect jake to come over and pick itup, but he doesn’t. he is just standing there looking at me expectantly.i think i’m about to wet my pants after all. jake wants me to throw the ball backto him. my heart is practically running a
marathon. what do i do?! should i throw it?i don’t even know how to throw it! i glance back up at jake who’s beginning to looka tad bit impatient. shit! i have to do something. so i abandon a good portion of my self-respect,throw the towels down on the bench beside me and grab the ball. i feel it in my hands.it feels nice actually, a little heavier than i expected, emblazoned with dozens of tinylittle goosebumps all over its surface. i suck in a breath, blink slowly and thenthrow the ball as hard as i can. to my amazement, it flies straight into jake’s hands. jakesmiles at me and mouths thanks. i smile back. we are looking into each other’s eyes nowand the chemistry between us is undeniable. it feels awesome. i wish this moment couldlast forever…
“hey, sam! catch!†i hear someone shoutat me from out of nowhere. i turn my head to see who it is only to findyet another football is flying in my direction. this time i don’t even have to think aboutit. i just instinctively reach up and pluck the ball out of midair absorbing the impactwith my chest. i’m not as bad at this as i thought.i see that mitch is the one who hurled it my way. he is looking at me excited, expectingme to throw it back. as glad as i am to be a part of practice now, i’m desperate tohang onto that moment i just had with jake, but when i turn back to him he is alreadythrowing the ball back and forth with another guy.i throw the ball back at mitch as hard as
i can. i can’t help it. i’ve gone intobitch mode. “i don’t want to play, mitch!†i shoutangrily. he is clearly taken aback by my reaction,but still not deterred. “come on, warm up a little. it’d be goodfor you,†he says and throws the ball back to me.i catch it and throw it back even harder. now i’m seeing red.“i said i don’t want to play.†the words are pretty much dripping in acid.“oh, really?†he shouts, a little angry now too. why is he getting angry? and thenhe throws the ball back at me, hard this time, real hard.i catch it.
i don’t know if you’re aware of this,but catching a heavy, fast-moving projectile at a close distance hurts like a bitch.livid, i collect all of my energy and throw it back at him as hard as a can. he catchesit and i can see by his expression that it was equally unpleasant.he, of course, retaliates by throwing it back, and i, preferring to keep all of my internalorgans intact, immediately dodge left. unfortunately, this sends the ball flying straight towardsmrs. edelson, water girl extraordinaire. lucky for her, the ball finds it in its cold inflatedheart to avoid caving in her pretty little face. not so lucky for us, it does manageto knock the tray of water right out of her hands so that it thoroughly soaks principalanderson, who judging by her reaction is closely
related to the wicked witch of the west.soaking wet, she gives both me and mitch a piercing look with her enraged raccoon eyes.“my office, now!†she yells. and that, my friends, is how you get yourselfa week of detention. i knew i couldn’t possibly get through abirthday unscathed. i’m in the team’s locker room now, collectingthe towels left scattered all over the floor after everybody else is long gone. i’m surethey’d be a lot more careful about where they left their towels if they knew i wasconstantly watching them, but hey, it’s worth it.they don’t know i like guys, obviously. even if they catch me looking at them it won’tbe the first thing on their mind. it’s kinda
like being a kid in a candy store, a reallyreally fat kid on a diet, but still. if only i could touch those sweet candies and notjust look at them, not to mention everything else you can do with candy…jake hasn’t made an appearance yet. the last time i saw him, he was walking into thecoach’s office. the poor guy was probably in the middle of one of coach’s lame cookie-cutterspeeches about how important winning is for the self-esteem of impressionable youths suchas himself. as if the star quarterback with potential scholarships on the line doesn’talready know all about winning. i’m tempted to go looking for him, but idon’t want to risk running into ms. anderson again, or worse, mitch.mitch has practically been stalking me all
day, and i know it has something, or everythingif i’m being honest, to do with melissa. he obviously thinks he can use me to get toher. i don’t think i can help in that department, and now i don’t even want to. he probablydoesn’t realize it, but he is being a major pain in the ass.it doesn’t help that his presence seems to bring bad luck.i finish collecting all the towels and begin hauling them toward the industrial-sized hamperon the other side of the locker room. damn! they’re heavy. my knees are buckling andi’m pretty sure that i’m gonna collapse beneath a giant sack of athletic sweat, andnot in a sexy way. someone approaches me from behind.“need help with that?†asks a low male
voice.i turn around slowly, not sure who to expect. it’s josh wells, one of the jocks. prettyface, big chocolate-y brown doe eyes, dark, curvy eyelashes, and a lean muscular build—whichi am particularly familiar with if you catch my drift.i have to swallow a few times before answering. “no, thanks,†i say. “i’m cool.â€i continue dragging the bag across the floor. i’m sure that it’s painfully obvious thati do, in fact, need help, but i’d never admit that. especially around someone likehim. josh watches on in amusement for a few minutesbefore taking the sack from my hands and tossing it into the hamper with ease.he turns back to me and says, “there you
go.â€â€œoh, thanks,†i mutter, straining to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.“i’m going to hit the showers,†he says, peeling off his sweaty t-shirt. i gulp nervously.he doesn’t seem to mind me looking. “okay,†i mutter again, voice proud andsteady despite the erratic fluttering in my chest.“you look like you could use some refreshing as well,†he says, looking down at me.i do the same. it is pretty hot in here and i am sweatierthan i’d like. i guess i could take a shower, but i never like to shower at school. i mean,the view would be great, i’m sure, but being naked and exposed before all of those jocksis kinda terrifying seeing as i don’t exactly
have great control over one particular partof my body. “no,†i start saying. “i think i’mgonna wait ‘til i get home.†“suit yourself,†he says and takes offhis shorts. dear god! he is not wearing any underwear. he stands completely naked in frontof me and, again, he doesn’t seem to mind me looking.he grabs a towel and goes into the shower room. my eyes follow greedily. i think i’mgonna take that shower after all. i am so nervous that my legs are shaking.i’m in a shower stall, naked and josh is in the shower stall opposite me, naked too.this is my first time being naked with another guy in the room, well, unless you count thattime when i was twelve and me and my friend
frankie were putting our swimming shorts onin my bedroom. that was a lot less thrilling than this.it was also a lot less terrifying. i am practically aching to turn around andlook at him, damn all repercussions. even the thought of looking at him is arousing.i feel completely exposed though. i face the wall. the possibility of watching him showeris taunting me, consuming every rational thought. i wage an intense inner battle for a few moreminutes, but then i come to the conclusion that i’m not likely to get another chancelike this one anytime soon. i turn around and, not daring to look at hisbody, i look at his face instead. our eyes meet… i think i’m gonna faint now…but i don’t faint. i watch in stunned silence
as josh winks at me instead.oh sweet jesus! i turn away at once. that is just too muchto handle right now. i can’t even begin to process what is happening. but i gottalook again. i just have to. i turn around and see him from the back now.i watch as he puts his head under the stream of water for a moment and then starts soapinghimself. the sight of his wet body under the stream of hot water is just delightful. toodelightful. i turn away again. i don’t want josh tosee my boner. or do i? no, i don’t! i mean, it sounds good in theory, and this could bea good plot for an erotic dream, but this is neither. i can’t predict what kind ofreaction i would get. i mean, it’s just
us here. it’s not like there’s a girlaround. this is just too much for one day. i have to take a break. but there he is, standingright there, a couple feet away from me, naked. do i dare look at him again?the thrill i get from this is not something i’m used to. i mean, i have a couple ofporn magazines back at home, but those pictures are not alive. it’s not the same as lookingat a real boy standing so close that i could theoretically reach out and touch him if idared. i look again. i stare at his body this time.he is drying his hair, so i have a few moments to openly gawk. and he has quite a bit togawk at. his body is just perfect. it looks almost as if it was carved with a chisel.but that is not even the main point of attraction.
his tool is right there on display; and it’shard. this is a scene straight from the erotic storiesbook i managed to find in a public library. i mean, if it was a scene from an erotic storiesbook i would turn around and start touching myself and let him watch. and he would watchme touch myself and he would like it. and then he would start touching himself as well,stroking his big tool. and i would watch. and then he would come over into my stalland… and touch me… and… and… i start breathing hard now and my face becomes distortedas i climax. i try to hide my sudden orgasm, but my bodytwitches a little and i can’t do anything about it. i don’t know if josh saw me. idon’t even dare look at him right now. i
didn’t even touch myself. i am soooooooembarrassed, mortified even. i put my head under the water, desperatelywishing that this was a dream that i could soon wake up from.about five minutes later i turn off the water, steel myself, and turn around. josh is alreadygone. i don’t know if he saw any of that, but i just wanna crawl into a cave and die.i get dressed with trembling fingers, imaging the hell that will befall me if my secretgets out. when i enter the designated classroom fordetentions, room 409, the first person i see is mitch. i am so upset at this point thati don’t even say anything to him. i just sit down and cover my face with my arms.“aren’t you taking this a little too hard?
it’s just detention,†mitch says.“it’s not that,†i say without looking at him. “it’s something else.â€mitch already apologized to me after ms. anderson scolded us in her office. i know none of thisis his fault, just an awful string of coincidences, that’s all, but i have to blame someoneor else i’ll go crazy. “what is it then?†he asks.“i don’t think you want to know, mitch,†i say into my armpit. i don’t really wantto talk right now. i’d much rather just die.“well,†he says gently. “i have an hour and a half to kill. and it’s not like there’sanything else to do.†i look up and scan the classroom, which inow realize is completely empty apart from
the two of us. i’m pretty sure there’ssupposed to be a teacher here, but i guess we did get stuck with detention a little latein the game. as gross as it is to think about, teachers do have lives outside of school.at least i think they do. “do you really want to know?†i ask, wonderingif straight guys often complain about their problems to other straight guys. i don’tthink they do, but i wouldn’t know. “sure. spit it out.â€i chew on my lower lip for a moment while i figure out where to start.“mostly my problem with today is that it’s my birthday.â€â€œit is?†he asks, a smile lighting up his face. “well, then happy—“don’t say that out loud!†i screech.
“what? what did i say?†he looks aroundurgently as if he expects some authority figure to pop up out of nowhere and admonish him.“it’s not you,†i explain. “this is exactly why i’m upset. it’s this thingabout my birthdays…†“what’s wrong with your birthdays?â€he asks. i look at his face, trying to size him up. from what i can gather, he seems genuinelyinterested, so i tell him. i tell him about the cake, the broken bones, the house fires.everything. he keeps nodding and intently listening theentire time. i don’t think anyone ever took my story so seriously. my family doesn’tbelieve in it. and melissa likes to talk but doesn’t really like to listen. i find mitch’scalm reaction very refreshing.
“do you think i’m crazy?†i ask wheni’m finished. he thinks about it for a moment and then smiles.“no, i don’t think you’re crazy. well, maybe just a little bit,†he smiles conspiratoriallyso that i know he’s joking. “maybe it’s like a curse? a birthday curse?â€â€œis that a thing?†“it might be,†he says. “there are alot of people who believe in them, in curses i mean.â€â€œdo you?†“i think so.â€â€œwho cursed me then?†“i don’t know.†he says solemnly. “maybenobody did. maybe you were born with it.†“seems like it,†i sigh. “what do ido to lift the curse?â€
“you’re just full of questions aren’tyou?†he smiles as if he just made the funniest joke ever and then grows serious once again.“i dunno. but there’s gotta be something.†“i know. i gotta take three feathers froma street pigeon, two ounces of pig’s blood, and a dash of unicorn tears,†i say smiling.“yeah, and don’t forget about the rabbit’s feet…and a caldron. you’re gonna needsomething to mix that in.†we both laugh.“or maybe you’re like sleeping beauty and your curse can be lifted with a kiss?â€â€œyeah, right,†i answer, trying to smile. little does he know, much like sleeping beautyi’m waiting for my prince. shrugging off my momentary awkwardness, icontinue bombarding him with theories as to
how to break my curse. we talk more aboutcurses and zombies and vampires and the creepshow movie from a few years ago that we both loved,among other things. then one thing leads to another and he’s using the plastic skeletonmodel to impersonate the undead and i’m running around the classroom trying to escapemy gory death until he catches me and “eats my eyeballs.â€â€œgahhrr… i am a creature from a planet gahhh and i am going to eat your facial features,â€he growls. “no, please creature from the planet gahhh,don’t eat my facial features!†i shriek in my best damsel in distress voice.“i can’t stop myself, arrr… your eyes were delicious and now i have to eat yournose too.â€
“no… no!†i scream.i try to escape again, but he hunts me down and eats my nose as well, causing both ofus to collapse into hysterical fits of laughter. then, tired and out of breath, we sit downand talk some more. we also share an orange that appears out of the depths of mitch’sbackpack. so that’s what his backpack for. he never has any notebooks or pens or anything,just cassette tapes and questionably obtained fruit.he says he likes citrus fruits. so do i. i’m pretty much marveling at how well thetwo of us get along. an hour and a half of detention passes by in what feels like tenminutes. “you know, i don’t think i like my birthdayseither,†mitch says as we get back on the
subject of my birthday curse.“why?†i ask, curious. he seems to have pretty much everything he could possibly askfor, well except for melissa. “i never get anything i really want,â€he explains. “i mean, my parents give me a lot of cool stuff…â€â€œlike a car,†i supply. “yeah, that, but that’s not really important.it’s not a car that i want.†i nod and say, “i think i know what youwant.†he looks up at me, surprised. “you do?â€â€œyeah, i mean i noticed the way you look at…â€and before i can say melissa, ms. anderson walks in. she gives us both dirty looks andalso a stern lecture on how young boys should
be behaving at school. she used the word “hooligansâ€no less than five times. “okay then. i will be expecting to see thetwo of you back here tomorrow,†she finishes. “dismissed!â€she exits the room immediately as if she has a ton of important work to do, which she probablydoes. now it’s just me and mitch again.i watch him get up and put his backpack on. i don’t really want to go home, not today.i wasn’t there to help uncle jack move the furniture and i’m sure i’m gonna hearall about it. but most of all, i just don’t want to be celebrating my birthday. todayhas been traumatizing enough. i’d much rather spend some more time with mitch.“hey,†he says. i look up at him. “see
you tomorrow?â€â€œyeah,†i say. “we don’t really have a choice.â€â€œi don’t mind this detention thing. it was kinda fun talking to you and stuff.â€â€œit was,†i agree, awkwardly. “i mean i feel the same way.â€he seems hesitant to leave too, and also a little bit nervous. maybe it’s this melissathing? i’m just about to offer him my help with that, but he interrupts me saying, “byethen. see you tomorrow.†“bye,†i say watching him rush out almostas fast as ms. anderson. i turn around and reach for my jacket whichi left on the desk behind me and catch a glimpse of a note lying on my desk. i glance backat the door. mitch is already gone.
it’s probably a note that he wants me togive to melissa but he couldn’t work up the courage to ask me. he seems oddly workedup over something so simple. well, i guess i would have been worked up too if i askedsomeone to give a declaration of love to jake. i take the note, vowing to give it to melissafirst thing tomorrow morning. although i’m pretty sure what she’s gonna say about it.but hey, you know what they say. no harm, no foul. i enter my house through the back door, hopingto slip in unnoticed. “where have you been?†my mother asks,immediately bursting my bubble. “detention,†i admit.“detention?†she asks, surprised. i’m
her “easy child†aka, not usually oneto get in trouble. “it’s the birthday thing.†i sigh.“well, i’m sorry about that, honey. but i’m afraid there’s more bad news.†thatis when i start noticing the loud voices coming from the living room. apparently all of theguests are here and ready to celebrate. “what happened?â€my mother shifts uncomfortably. “well, when uncle jack and your father were trying tomove the furniture in, uncle jack threw out his back,†she starts, eyes wide with excitement.as a suburban housewife she doesn’t really get out all that much. “we even had to takehim to the hospital.†“well, that’s bad,†i say, sensing thatthere is worse news to come.
“the sofa that they dropped after unclejack threw out his back; it made a hole in their living room floor. it turns out thatthe house is infested with termites.†“uh huh,†i say and gesture for her tocontinue. “well, they couldn’t move into the housethat has holes in the floor. so we invited them to stay over at our house for the nextcouple of days.†“mom!†i protest immediately. they havefive kids, for god’s sake! couldn’t she see the amount of noise and destruction thatwould ensue? “it’s already decided and we are not goingto argue about it. the termite problem is gonna be solved tomorrow. the contractor saysthat it’s gonna take two days tops.â€
“two days?†i whine.“it’s just two days, sam. i think we can handle that. also, your grandparents are notgonna be able to make it today. and taking into account that the ericsons are not exactlycheerful after what happened, we decided to reschedule your birthday celebration for tomorrow.â€â€œwhat?†i practically shout. “honey, uncle jack just got back from thehospital. you can’t expect him to get straight to celebrating your birthday. and to tellyou the truth, he is a little upset that you didn’t show up this afternoon to help himout.†“it wasn’t my fault,†i protest.“and your grandparents aren’t here. you wouldn’t want to be celebrating your birthdaywithout them, would you?â€
“i don’t wanna celebrate it at all!â€my mom gives me a seething look that say’s exactly what she thinks of that idea. “i’msorry, honey. we’re just gonna have to reschedule it.â€i can’t believe this. i thought i was done with today, but i guess i was wrong. it lookslike my birthday curse is going to carry on into tomorrow. shit!“okay,†i say unwillingly. “is there somebody in my room?â€â€œyes, three of the ericsons kids are gonna be sleeping in your room tonight.†doubleshit! “i don’t want to sleep with them,†iretort. “well then, the laundry room is all yours.â€
thankfully, the laundry room is spacious enoughfor me to settle into comfortably, and it has an old couch that i can sleep on. i liedown on said couch, cover myself with the blanket my mom brought in, and stare up atthe ceiling. this room was not part of the original structure of the house. it’s basicallylike an oversized shed with a giant skylight in the middle of its slanted roof. lookingup at the stars through the skylight makes me feel slightly better about this whole ordeal.but only slightly. with a large sigh, the sigh of the centuryalmost, i sink into the cushions, close my eyes and let the soft whirring of the washingmachine coax me into sleep. the first thing i see is an image of jake.we’re at the gym and he’s throwing a football
to me. i catch it, much more confidently thani would’ve in real life, and throw it back. he catches it with a giant smile. i smiletoo. we continue throwing the ball back and forth, falling into a comfortable routine.then i throw him a pass he can’t catch. it hits him in the face instead.startled, i shoot up out of bed and try to rid myself of that awful mental image. stupiddream. dreams are supposed to show me happy, sexy-time with jake, not me making a totalfool out of myself. i do just fine at that in real life.