A Case Of Jitters

 

I have written many adventure/ romance books with LGBTQ+ characters. Visit my website to browse my full bibliography. You can also sign up for my mailing list to ensure you don't miss any fun future updates. ACOJ is out now as a full book, check out my website for information.

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A Case of Jitters

Chapter II

Andrew is so dreamy. What with his gorgeous, close-set of lush chestnut eyes. He is the pinnacle of male beauty. Even though now he is dressed up because of the dance, or is it because of our date? I can't help but stare at him in awe. It's those eyes of his that made me fall for him in the first place. Combined with his virtually white unscathed teeth, he has an adorable set of train track braces on both the upper and lower layer. I have glanced across the classroom numerous times, catching sight of him smiling with the small, close select group of friends he has.

His face, like a chiseled Greek god, and his heart-wrenching dimples when he cracks a smile. Sigh… Andrew is the definition of perfection. His lips are soft rosebuds begging to be kissed, and his twinkling, shy demeanor adds to the bashfulness he exhibits when talking to people he is not familiar with. His button nose, coupled with his soft eyelashes, and old school Justin Bieber hairdo, will make him any girl's dream boy. With how his neatly presented hair encircles his face snuggly, offering a little flair with flays of fine tendrils brushing down onto his soft cheekbones and small bangs at the back of his neck. Andrews's fair complexion on Monday mornings is my sunshine on cloudy days beneath the classroom lights. Anytime I watch him sit on a stool in science, I wish for the life of me that he will sit up straight. His lean, boney stature is pleasing on the eyes, and when he rolls up his two sleeves while intently reading or concentrating is special to see. Mainly most boys our ages are off squandering their time, and I'm guilty of such a thing, but not Andrew, he works, and that's why he is intelligent.

Tonight, his fashion shoots off the cuteness scale and straight up onto the hotness one. Beneath his black, lightweight bomber jacket, the Egyptian blue shirt, separated by black vertical and horizontal lines, makes his Tommy Hilfiger shirt appealing. It makes me want to see him shirtless to state the oblivious. 'At least he's not cheap,' I contemplate. I have never gotten that vibe from Andrew, he seems to take care and pride in his appearance. I can assume that much, right? His efforts are admirable. The sex appeal, however, has been amplified by a pair of beige, cotton khakis. Woof… is all my mind is coming up with at present.

Reverting my attention from left to right, I scope out to see if the area is clear. Imagine how this will look, I am new to this school, and next year I will be a proper freshman. It means I'll have to work extra hard to make the football team when its in season. So being seen with a gay guy is dangerous for future reputation. I'm not prejudice. I think I am that way too, but I am not ready for such a big step. I'm still finding myself among all the noise of high school.

Shuffling quietly beside Andrew, both of us merge into the east wing of the school. We hit student traffic who stand taking group photos and animatedly conversing. I grow nervous instantly, and since I know a few of them will see us, I freeze on the spot beside Andrew. I know it's a shameful thing to do. Invite a boy out, and then because of what others may say, and my friend's, I tip-toe around here in secret.

Andrew carries on, not noticing I fall behind until he glances over to see that I'm not beside him. It is funny, since leaving the classroom; we haven't ushered a word to each other. Am I really that nervous? I feel... I don't know. Like I am open to all the comments that the world can throw at me. It's odd knowing I am on a date when everyone else outside of school will think that I am just his friend. It somehow makes me want to go out with him even more due to the fact, I can rub the rumor into all those absent-minded people who have no clue.

Glancing over his shoulder, he peers back at me and stops shyly. Running his fingers across his forearm, he slowly makes his way back to me, clearly embarrassed. Andrew is rather cute when you make him blush, but it isn't my intention for him to get all shy and bashful. Some weird choppy sensations are going on in my stomach that I have never felt before. It feels what I'd imagine an erupting soda can will be like inside your tummy after you give it a vigorous shaking. Then again, it's not every day you make him blush. On the other note, what did I do to make him react that way? Oh, right, I asked him on a date and then flaked all of a sudden. I suppose I will be the same way if I have to make all the arrangements, and more importantly, how cute he looks. You can tell that he made an effort to dress up, and all for me. 

Stopping short, leaving a small gap between both of us, Andrew asks nervously, "Is everything alright."

Raising his hand to his elbow again, he begins to cradle it.

Is that what he does when he's nervous? I haven't seen him doing this in school, so it must be a new thing. Affirming what I have to say in my wreak of a brain, I nod.

"Everything's okay…" I mumble. 

I think about it for a second and realize I have lied to him. I don't want to start such succession, so instead, I'll take a chance.

"Actually, not really," I sigh. "Em… this is my first time asking a boy out."

His facial expression changes, he smiles a little, the blush disappears. Andrew looks from me to the group of students behind us, and then he reverts back to me. The DJ equipment's thumping sounds in the hall on the school stage, brood, and seep from every crevice of the open door. The sound gloats throughout the school. The music seeps out when the door opens every time, but since I'm so nervous about getting to meet him, the resonance cannot be heard. The song is familiar, I've played it several times on Spotify. Shawn Mendes - In My Blood. It's at the chorus, that's the reason I can recognize it. Actually, I can sense the thumps pounding through the floor. 

Incredible, those eyes of Andrew are staring back at me now. He seems to be rooted in thought. And all I can come to notice is how beautiful his eyes are, and how kissable his lips look. Still, I wouldn't do it here; there are too many people around, and to second that motion, I don't want anyone to know I'm gay. I wonder how that is going to play out now? I am going to be recognized around town with the only gay kid I know in school. Rumors will flush through the streets like a log of turd sailing the sewer pipes. All throughout Old Harbor, folks will hear about it. Perhaps even reaching Newhaven... possibly beyond the Longpine mountains and every other small town in the county. I haven't got the foggiest as to why I decided it is a good idea to do this. It's just I want to get to know somebody who is like me. It's hard not to be able to talk to someone who is not alike, and my parent's I don't think will understand, not that they are bad. They are very supportive of everything I do. So, I can only hope if I come out gay, that they will accept me. 

"You can walk ahead of me if you want, meet me at the school plaque outside the building."

I peep from him to the group of teenagers, who seem to be utterly oblivious to our presence. Besides, I did say I'll dance with Sophia tonight, let's hope she doesn't hold me to this promise.

Deciding to take a chance, I say, "No… I'll walk with you."

Swallowing hard, my throat develops a thirst. Starting again, both of us walk side by side this time for the crowd. I am super-super nervous right now, and my heart is gallivanting in my chest. If any more of these great, but totally uncontrollable characteristics keep at it. I think I'll end up in a ball on the ground from either the fear of someone catching me or the tingly butterflies Andrew gives me. Except, tonight, they are stronger than any other time. On average, I get hard. Other times I get a case of butterflies, grow bashful, or just happen to have all of the above when I talk to Andrew. At the moment, all I seem to notice is the jitters.

Thankfully nobody seems to be paying attention to us. Like that, we slip by our peers without drawing any attention. It's funny, I suppose. Everybody is completely clueless as to what is going on. I need that confidence. Ironically, I am somewhat relieved and delighted I have not backed out, yet. Let's hope I can keep with it. I want Andrew to like me a little more than just a friend. 

Pushing on, I side-scope using my peripheral vision to see both sides of the corridor. Nobody seems to care, which adds a level of security I can't quite describe. Knowing Andrew is walking beside me is a graceful act.

Leaving the group of 8th graders behind, Andrew and I channel down the main corridor and out the front door of the school, passing-by new arrivals. When I get a chance, I'll let Sophia know I'll catch up with her later in the evening. I reckon I have to come back here anyway because my Mom insists that my Dad is picking me up afterward.

Turning onto the sidewalk, after the school plaque, I feel myself beginning to relax a little. I assume Andrew is experiencing the same. At least the spits of rain earlier were only a fluke. The school grounds drift into the distance, and Andrew and I leisurely pace along. It's funny when you're nervous, beneath it all, you find something to talk about. Now the fear of getting caught is behind us; the anxious feeling dissipates. Conversing freely with Andrew, both of us talk about why we never affiliated with each other during school hours.  

Brazenly I offer up, "Well, because you're gay."

Andrew chuckles at that. I'm not intentionally trying to come off obnoxious or blunt about it, but it is the truth. 

Andrew replies sarcastically, "Yeah, you're totally too straight for me too."

I chuckle, then a silence comes, so I ponder the real reason.

"Actually, I guess it was just because you arrived late to our little group," I murmur.

"You call it a group?"

"Yeah, a group is two people, plus one."

The two of us titter but get serious.

"Do you want to know the real reason?"

Andrew nods to my question.

"Well… I was intimidated."

"But why?" Andy asks.

"Because your Andrew Lynch…" I coo, adding a little giggle.

I get a good giggle out of that myself. 

"And…"

"I thought you were too pretty for me."

Even though the two of us are a mixed match, I feel good at having taken the time out to forward that note. I've wanted to get to know Andrew for quite a long time, and now that I'm doing it, the emotions I'm experiencing right now are… like I'm walking on a cloud. Is that how I consider it? I'm not sure if Andrew knows that there is this airy sensation in my chest like I can breathe unrestrictedly forever, and ever.  

Walking the quaint, still, neighborhood, both of us shuffle underneath the white glow of the streetlights. House after house, we babble on about funny experiences through the year that happened in our homeroom. There is a certain mystic appeal to experiencing Andrew's smile. How his eyes will lighten, the white in his eyes sparkles against a translucent neighborhood. When the corners of his mouth draw open to a smile, my heart swims in emotions.

Eventually, we reach Joe's diner, or more commonly known as Rockin' Joes, it's not a traditional diner. It's a small restaurant, actually. On warm days when the ice-cream deli is open, I'll saunter from school in the draught of heat to order the best dessert in the entire town. Possibly when we finish our meal, I can be the gentleman and possibly buy Andrew ice cream. He did say milkshakes for our agreement, maybe I'll buy the meal. Wait on second thought, figuring we are both boys who pays for what we are about to eat? Do we each repay our own debt? Will that make me look cheap even though I am a little bit more comfortable with going down that path? The concept of paying the bill for Andrew doesn't seem to phase me in the slightest. However, having him pay for me seems to make me feel uncomfortable.

Pushing the door of the diner open, we huddle inside. Mosaic euphoric tiles glitter the ground in various non-ethical colors. The walls, a touch of maroon separated by beige at the mid-section of the partition. A few too many booths to count, each separated by a large window with cream Venetian blinds, and a dim pale diamond light above the table of each stall.

A woman with tired eyes, a warm smile, and a motherly instinct welcomes us. She tells us to take our seat and that she should be out with the menus. Like that, both of us shimmy into a boot a little out-of-the-way from prying eyes and sit contently. The walk from school has been awesome, but somehow something has changed. Is it weird knowing that being here, I feel like I can be myself? Although on the down-low, I'm not ready to parade around just yet. 

Staring across the table, A melodic melody plays in the background, acting as a comfort to my ears. Here I am, sitting directly across from Andrew, on a date. I can't believe it. Am I too quiet for him? Does he want me to say something more? I don't know what I am supposed to say. What should I even talk about? There is so much to talk about, I can't for the life of me think of something interesting to discuss. Maybe when the woman comes over to give us our menus, I can start talking. I hate the sound of my voice. Reasonably I can keep my mouth shut until they speak to me. I know that sounds ridiculous, that will be rude, sitting here for the duration of the date and not making any effort to communicate. 

"Em… Jacob… Do you remember that one time in PE when we were playing dodgeball in 6th grade, and you took forever to hit me with the ball."

Reverting my eyes up from the table, a chord of panic and anxiety takes hold of me by the neck. 'Oh that… how can I forget? I am still sorry about it.'

Consciously cradling my arm, I mumble, "humph… Yeah. Last person standing on the opposing team."

"How come you took so long to throw the ball in the first place?" Andrew enquires.

I can't answer that… If Andrew knows I liked him that long ago, then he will think I am a freak. I mean, how can I possibly throw a ball at him. I stood there for about ten seconds, I'm such an idiot. I could not bring myself to hit him, but when I realized everybody in the class was looking at me. I had too. Oh God, he's staring at me intently now, hold it together Jacob don't perish from peer pressure.

"Why' hello boys, what can I get for you fine strapping young men," comes a voice.

The woman hands us two menus, greeting us with another one of those warm smiles.

Glancing to the source of the intrusion, a sigh of relief let loose at the sight of the waitress. Reverting my eyes back to Andrew's attention, he has shifted up to the waitress. Secretly I can't help but admire his beauty rather than stare at him. With a flicker of his eyelashes, he looks over in my direction, and my motor functions give out. I'm getting all jittery and stupid.

"Do you want something different, or do you just want to get a milkshake and burger?" Andrew asks.

The kind lady takes out a little notepad and pen and waits silently to the side for us to choose our meal. I thought she'd give us a moment to choose. Turning my attention to the menu, all I can make out is a mess of words. Even if I'm interested in looking at what they have to offer. All I come to think is that a burger and a milkshake will be adequate, considering I can hardly think for myself at the moment. 

Peering up at the kind woman, I offer, "I'll have a burger and strawberry milkshake."

The nice lady beams a smile back at me, scribbling in shorthand my order, and then turns her attention to Andrew. "And what will it be for you, sweetie?" the waitress inquires.

Oh my God, she called Andrew sweetie. I'm sorry, but that just gives me the worst dose of butterflies I've ever felt. It feels so tingly and warm. Sitting in my seat, all I want to do is flop around like a damn flappy bird.

Andrew speaks confidently and asks for the same. I should ask him what his interests are because, apparently, that's what you're deemed to do on a date.

Planning to speak my mind, Andrew blurts out, "so about dodgeball…"

Ugh… Fuck… I should have assumed that Andrew isn't going to let it go. Is it a crime to say I liked him that long ago? The reason I didn't want to lash the ball at him is because I fancied him? Plus, I don't want to appear like a fruitcake, then again, I'm not sure if I can exactly blame myself because he was so pretty then, he's a lot more handsome now.

Feeling my cheeks flush, I crack a smile and revert my embarrassment toward the table. Plopping both hands down in front of me, I glance down at my lap.

"I didn't want to hit you," I mumble.

I know I can feel his eyes sizing me up over there. Did I blow it? Do I come off too strong or stupid? A soft sensation brushes across my hand, pivoting my head, I see Andrew's hand atop mine. 'What is he doing, in the middle of a restaurant in front of people? I raise my eyes up to his, watching him gravely with a flush of red to his cheeks. As much as I like human contact, I can't be seen holding the hand of another boy. Unliking the decision, I begin to pull my hand away from him. Plopping my hands down in my lap from part shame and regret, I sheepishly gaze at him.

A sudden clamminess presents itself, and with the fear of rejection now on the horizon, I wipe my sweaty palms against my knees. The two of us remain silent for a couple of seconds and occasionally cross eyes with each other, but nothing more than that.

Finally, I work up the courage to say, "I'm sorry. Just I'm scared shitless over here. I've never done anything like this before, and well, the reason I took so long to throw the ball is I liked you then, and I still like you…"

Andrew gives a bemused snort and says, "I assumed you wanted to say something to me for a while. Only I didn't know it would be something like this. I confess I wasn't even sure about meeting you tonight, but I wanted too".

Now it is my turn to give a chuckle and grin. "Is it that obvious?" I ask.

Andrew glances out the window momentarily before reverting his attention back to me, stating, "Not totally. Though I do find it funny any time I catch you looking, you get all shy."

Like that, I get shy all of a sudden at his profound honesty. I restrict my smile, pressing my tongue against the back of my teeth to hinder its arrival, and I begin twiddling with my thumbs as a distraction.

"See… Like you are doing now. You'd always get that way," Andrew notes.

"Okay… Stop before I have an overload of giggles," I plead.

Andrew laughs at my display of words, and not long after he goes into a hysterics, I join in. I reckon the two of us look a bit nutty from afar, but I don't seem to mind all that much. The conversation is pleasant, and the company profound. It feels good breaking down the barrier between us. Even though there are a couple of people in the diner, I feel like I can be myself at this very booth, giggling and smiling.

Eventually, the food arrives, and we scarf it down. Andrew eats more quaintly than I. It's like he's deliberately careful not to make a slob of himself, and with the display unfolding in front of me, I decide to slow down on my food too. We chat about hobbies and interests. Apparently, Andrew is a big fan of Star Wars, and he is a big fan of The Avengers. Even his selection in movies is cute—a glorified geek. Just listening to Andrew babble on about his interests makes me feel all proud inside for making these arrangements. It's another side utterly numb to what I'm used to seeing in school. With each new thing, he is telling me I'm making a mental note. He likes Ben & Jerry's ice cream, Empower Mint. I learn his favorite actor is Robert De Niro and that his favorite video game is Guild Wars 2. Andrew entirely is the pinnacle dream God of Nerds. Okay, that sounds a lot harsher in my head than it is intended. He is not a nerd, you know one of those guys you see with spots and glasses. No, Andrew is charming, just impressive, he's really awesome. 

With our meal concluded, I decide to excuse myself for a moment to use the restroom. Here I am again glued to a mirror, conscious about every flaw that is on display. Pulling out my phone, I send a message to Sophia. 

 

New Message:

To: Sophia

9:21 PM

"Sophie, I'll be back in a little bit, ttyl, xoxoxo."

 

Slipping the phone back into my pocket, and finalizing last-minute details, like fixing my hair and checking for pimples, I exit the bathroom. I make my way back out to Andrew, who sits at the table with a tub of Ben & Jerry's, Empower Mint. I opt to skip dessert and order another milkshake instead. Though I'm kind of curious as to what the ice cream he is eating tastes like. I've never tasted the flavor beforehand, considering well he's eating it too. It is different from the other day at the ice-cream parlor. Come to think of it, Joes is the only place in town selling this flavor. 

I ask in between intervals while taking a sip of my milkshake, "What does it taste like?"

Considering we've talked about nearly everything at this point. I figure it can't hurt to know his favorite flavor. I estimate it is minty considering the word mint is written on the top of the ice cream; hence it is the name of the flavor.

Andrew takes a small spoonful, compressing his lips to the spoon to suck it clean, before plunging the scoop into the ice cream and sliding it across the table to me. Looking over at him in embarrassment, I nervously reach out and wrap my fingers around the tub. Gripping the end of the spoon, I work free some ice cream and lift it to my lips, then place the silverware in the base of my lower mouth and dragging the clump of ice cream off the spoon. However, I cannot help but feel special somehow, considering the two of us have now shared the same spoon. I know it's only a small thing, but I find it something.

Turning my attention to my watch, I notice that it is nearly 9:30 PM, and my Dad will be back at 10:15 to pick me up from the dance. Hesitantly, I slide the Empower Mint back to him and suggest that when we are finished, we should start heading back. 

Tonight has been awesome. I hope on Monday he won't think I'm weird or anything for asking him out. What if he ignores me on Monday? Will he do that? I hope Andrew doesn't because I'll like to be able to approach him on a typical school day and talk to him.

Paying for our meal, yeah… Andrew wouldn't allow me to pay for him, and I don't want Andrew to pay for me. So coincidently we agree we'd go half and half. I'll pay for Andrew's meal, and he'd pay for my food. Absently now, while I walk along, I only see the loophole in our decision.

As we leave, a frigid nip cuts through the thin shirt I wear, and as I walk, conversing with Andrew, knowing our time is coming to an end, it makes me sad to contemplate. Sauntering past Madden Park, I get the heebie-jeebies. The park in the day time is creepy, but at night-time, it is a place that has a murderer on the loose, vibe written all over it.

Andrew stops walking; thinking something is up, I look around to him. There he is taking off his jacket. 

"Here… I think your cold," Andrew chuckles.

Andrew holds the bomber jacket out to me. It is lovely of him to think of me that way, and now the butterflies in my stomach have a field trip.

"I'm... em... okay," I assert.

Andrew continues to hold out the jacket like a gentleman. I can't exactly say no to him. So, stepping forward, I put on his coat. 

"Better?" Andrew asks after I put on the added layer.

To be honest, yes, it is. I can't believe I'm offered a coat from a cute boy and, more importantly, from Andrew Collins.

Lingering under the streetlight, both of us breathe slightly harder at the exchange.

Smiling to myself, I offer back, "better…"

 

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More to come, let me know your thoughts by emailing me. I'd love to hear.

I have written many adventure/ romance books with LGBTQ+ characters. Visit my website to browse my full bibliography. You can also sign up for my mailing list to ensure you don't miss any fun future updates. ACOJ is out now as a full book, check out my website for information.

View Website