chapter 2

After school I went to the library because I needed to check out some books for my AP Human Geography class. The teacher, Mr. Nowak, would only allow one online source even though he required five sources in total. He was pushing eighty, and I wasn’t too sure he really even knew how to use the internet.

Nobody was ever in the library, so I had the place pretty much to myself. I walked over to the history section and perused the shelves carefully. I grabbed a book from a lower shelf that I had put on my list of texts to check out. I continued to scan the shelves when I saw the book that would provide me with the bulk of my research on the very top shelf.

I took in a sign on the wall to my left that said not to climb the shelves. I scoffed at the thought of hunting down a stool. It’d take me twenty seconds to get the book and be back on the ground. I started my ascent up Mt. Bookshelf, wondering why the school needed shelves a hundred feet high anyway. I shimmied over a bit, extending my arm to grab my trophy. I was going to conquer this shelf or die trying. Okay, hopefully not die. That was a little extreme. I was almost there when my foot missed an open space and I tumbled backwards. I knocked a good fifteen to twenty books off the shelf as I stumbled backwards. I braced myself to hit the wall of shelves behind me, terrified at the thought of causing a domino effect that would effectively destroy the library.

But I never made contact with the shelf. I was caught before I could fall completely, strong arms holding me up. I was then stood upright by my savior, and I felt a sturdy stomach press into my back as they reached from behind me to grab the book I needed.

I turned around—my body so close to theirs that I could smell their cologne. It was something earthy, like cedar and patchouli. I noticed how excited I was getting and took a step back. I looked up and my gaze was met by Wes’s blue eyes.

“You okay?” I asked. “I’m sorry about all of this.” The sheer anime-ness of this would leave me embarrassed for the rest of my life. Things like this just didn’t happen in real life, but here I was. I might as well have been in a sailor schoolgirl uniform.

He smiled at me and laughed. It was a deep, warm laugh that made my stomach tighten. That laugh was so effortlessly sexy. I wanted to hear it again. I wanted to hear it forever.

“You’re the one falling off library shelves,” he said, laughing again. “I’m all good, you?”

“Yeah.” It was all I could muster. There was something about being eighteen and constantly aroused that I was starting to hate. We’d barely said anything to each other in years and my first thought was how I wanted to get fucked behind the stacks of books in the library. We’d have to be quiet of course, considering the librarian was within earshot, but that’d only make it all the more exciting. Suddenly I felt my dick pressing against my jeans. I knew he didn’t know I had a hard-on, but what if he did?

Without a word I handed him the book I’d been holding and walked out of the library. I had to transfer schools. I couldn’t see him again after that. I couldn’t talk to him like a normal human being and now things would just descend further and further into awkwardness.

He was never in the library, but the day I needed to check out some books he just so happened to be there? I had the worst luck in the whole world. If it wasn’t for morning conditioning, he’d have been in the weight room with the rest of the team, and this could’ve all been avoided. I made my way home spiraling into despair. I couldn’t wait for college. I needed to get laid. I needed my gay dating apps to show more than twelve people within a thirty-mile radius (also, not guys who were over sixty and married). I went inside and grabbed my cello. I made my way to the sunroom and started to play. Playing music calmed me, gave me something to focus on.

My cello belonged to my father. He died before I was born, but I knew he was about my size and that he taught English. My interest in the cello didn’t garner me any notoriety in town, as I was the only person who played it and it had nothing to do with football. Someone had once told me I chose the worst instrument to get invested in because there are “no cellos in marching band.” My mom had to drive me forty-five minutes out of town for my lessons. I loved playing and even though I knew it was an inconvenience, she never made me feel bad about it. I think she loved seeing me play because it reminded her of my dad.

I must’ve been at it for over an hour when my mom came and told me I had to go and meet our new neighbors.

“You’ve been talking about this for weeks,” I told her. “Just because your new boss is two doors down doesn’t mean you have to kiss his ass off the clock.” I put my cello in its case and followed my mom back into the house.

“This man is an asset to the clinic,” she said. “If I have to kiss ass to make sure he stays here, I will.” She picked up a brown paper bag and I knew she had baked them something. My mom rarely baked, but if it was to make a good impression, she was a regular Betty Crocker.

I made the trek two houses over to our new neighbor’s house. I wondered why some big city doctor would ever want to move here.

The pay couldn’t be that great compared to where he used to work. Maybe he was a disgraced doctor fighting a malpractice lawsuit. That could explain him choosing to work at our town’s clinic. I rang the doorbell. I fluffed my hair as I waited. I heard someone come to the door, the lock clicking as they turned the knob.

“Hello?” It was a guy. He looked to be only a little older than me, so unless he was Doogie Howser, he wasn’t the doctor. He was tall and stocky and gorgeous. He had light brown skin and a faded haircut. Complimented by his hazel eyes and full lips. I’m not going to lie, I wasn’t expecting another black family to be moving in, and that now meant there was more than fifteen of us in town. I’d have to make sure he got the black-person welcome gift basket.

“Yes, hi, I hope I’m not bothering you. My name is Harvey. I live two houses over and I just wanted to introduce myself.” He smiled at me. I was just wishing for more hot guys to move here, and I was being served one on a silver platter. “I brought a cake too.”

“Come inside.” He had a smooth voice. I followed him into the house. There were boxes everywhere and ill-placed pieces of furniture. I’d lived in one house my entire life, so I had never had to go through packing and unpacking. Didn’t look all that fun.

“Dante, where is your brother...?” An older man, the doctor I assumed, glanced over at me. “Oh, hello there.” His voice was just as smooth as Dante’s.

“Oh yes, hello. My name is Harvey. My mother and I live two houses over. She’s the head nurse at the Roosevelt Clinic in town.”
He smiled at me too, and I was suddenly imagining a threesome with the doctor and Dante. They could eat the cake off of me like one of those weird LA sushi bars. I needed to masturbate or something because these sex fantasies were becoming a little excessive.

“Your mother was definitely one of the factors that inspired me to take the position here. My name is Paul. I assume you’ve met Dante and I have another son named Tony.”

“It’s nice to meet you, sir. My mother baked you all a cake. I’m pretty sure it’s lemon.”

“Mmm,” both the doctor and Dante moaned in unison.

“Our favorite,” the doctor added, smiling again. Holy shit, maybe they did want to eat the cake off of my naked body. I set the dessert on the counter. “You two can go talk or something. I’ll find your brother.”

We went outside and to my surprise had very easy conversation. Something about Dante felt low stakes. We’d just met. We had no history. I didn’t have to be anyone but myself. Even though I didn’t talk to cute guys often, I didn’t feel like I was fumbling over my words too much or saying the wrong thing. We’d managed to walk back to my house. My mom was on the porch reading something. It was the first week of January, so she was only outside to be nosy. She looked up at us and smiled. We walked over to her, and they spoke to one another.

He mentioned his mom passed away four years ago. My mom told him about my dad’s accident. They continued their exchange of information before the conversation turned towards the clinic.

“I’m so glad your father has taken the position here,” my mother said. “You have no idea how badly we need young, dedicated physicians like him in town. We’ve had three doctors retire in the last year and a half.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy working with you,” Dante replied. My mother just laughed, swatting at the air playfully. Did she want the doctor eating cake off of her naked body?

“I’ll leave y’all to it. I’m going to start dinner Harvey.”

Once she was inside the front door, Dante turned to me and smiled. This guy was absolutely gorgeous with charisma to spare. It was obvious he was a little older than me, so I wasn’t getting my hopes up that he’d take any real interest in me, but damn was it nice to meet someone new.

“So, would you mind walking me and Tony to the high school tomorrow?”

“You’re in high school?” I asked, surprised. He laughed, squinting his eyes a little as he did so. He had a really nice laugh. It was kind of dorky and it made me want to laugh along with him.

“Nah,” he said, still laughing slightly. “I’m in my last semester of college. I’m going to be student teaching in the music department until May.”

“Oh, so you’re like twenty-two?”

“I won’t be twenty-two until March. Are you telling me I don’t look old enough to be a teacher?” I took in the mustache that was just a wisp of hair on his upper lip and stifled a laugh.

“I don’t know,” I started, “There’s just something inherently juvenile about such a subtle stache.”

He paused for a moment, running his thumb and pointer finger over his mustache.

“Besides, you’ve definitely been cursed with a babyface, it’s cute.”

“Aw, c’mon Harv. Teenagers don’t respect cute. I’ve got to be intimidating.”

“I’m just messing with you,” I said. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, and I’ll make sure you make it there tomorrow in one piece.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll see you out here in the morning, let’s say seven-forty-five.” That meant I actually had to get up on time.