Ch. 23

Sunday morning and I'm having a panic attack. I woke up early and had a long shower, then tried to sort through my clothes. Last time I tried to dress nice, I spilled shit on myself and today is set to be a day of heavy labour, so there's not much hope for an impressive outfit. I guess clean and a bit tight might be good, shirt wise, since I have abs and stuff now from all the exercise this semester. Not great abs, but they're there if you look for them. Digging through my drawer, I find one from last year that I haven't worn in awhile. It's white with a Super Mario vine on it...I guess plants are kind of fitting, anyway.

Checking myself out in the mirror, I decide I look pretty good. I mean this whole thing is stupid, anyway, right? Tom has already told me he likes me. Let's just hope he wasn't lying. How many times can I second guess myself?

A lot apparently, because up until the time Lauren shows up, I must think about changing five more times. Instead I leave getting my shoes on until the last minute and run out to Lauren's car with them undone.

"Hey. Thanks for getting me again." I climb into the backseat, Tom already sitting in the passenger seat.

"Not a problem, but where on Earth did you dig up that shirt? No pun intended."

"What? It has a plant on it."

"And also Super Mario," Lauren points out as she pulls away from my house.

Tom turns in his seat to face me, and eyes me up and down. I blush under his scrutiny. Maybe this was the totally wrong choice again.

"Lauren, obviously you don't appreciate the classics," Tom finally says, making me feel a whole lot better. I grin at him and he winks back.

"Whatever." Not the strongest retort, I was honestly expecting more from Lauren.

"How did you get out of church today, anyway, Lauren. Don't you usually go to Tom's parents' church?" My smooth attempt to change the subject is terrible and I realize it as soon as I see Tom flinch.

"My parents allow me to miss when there's things that I have to do. Not everyone's parents are as strict about religion as Mr and Mrs Bowman," she explains, but it's like I can see Tom's whole demeanor change. He's sitting a bit more stiffly and there's an obvious tension in the air. I am such a total idiot.

"Yeah, fucking prisons guard aren't as strict as my parents. I guess that's why I don't live at home any more." Tom spits out.

"They are pretty serious about church."

"Yeah, and their interpretation of the scripture, too."

If I could just disappear into the seat right now, I would. This is certainly NOT how I planned on this day going. All I wanted to do was make Tom happy, and yet, once again I've managed to screw up.

Something suddenly occurs to Lauren, and it's written right across her face. "You're gay!" she exclaims. "They kicked you out because you're gay."

"No shit sherlock." Mike deadpans.

Lauren sputters, confused, "But they're your parents."

"Not anymore they aren't," Tom says angrily.

"Not everyone is as accepting, Lauren. How many times do you hear douchebags around the school say 'no homo' or call people fags?" I cut into the conversation.

"But most people aren't like that."

"So are you telling me that if Justin and I walked down the hall holding hands, people wouldn't object?" Tom asked.

Lauren's gaze shifted to me in her rear view mirror. "Do you want to hold his hand?"

This isn't exactly how I wanted this to go, but I take a deep breath and just let it out, "Of course I do. I wouldn't have told my mother and her fiancee that I'm gay if I didn't want to." I almost choke on saying I'm gay, but somehow I get it out.

The silence in the car is deafening, if only for a moment. I'm scared, Lauren's mouth is wide open; for once she's speechless, and Tom, well, I'm not sure what he's thinking but he's totally still in his seat. But then everything starts to move again. Tom's head cocks to one side as if to process what I've said, then he spins around to face me.

"You did it?" His eyes are flashing and Tom's grin is ear to ear.

"Yeah, last night," I admit, sheepishly.

"And?"

"And I'm a complete idiot, Tom. I should have done it before, ages before. Although I'm not sure if it was the pregnancy hormones mellowing her out that made her so accepting. Her and Paul."

"Wait!" Lauren stops the car abruptly. "Are you two really a thing? I was just joking before."

"I don't know, are we really a thing, Justin?"

"Umm." I'm not sure what to say. "Yes?" I answer hesitantly.

"Of course, yes. I didn't flirt with you for months for maybe." He reaches his arm over the seat and runs his hand gently across my jawbone. And it feels amazing. Totally.

"I guess I'd better get this little love train to school then," Lauren says with a big grin on her face as she pulls back out into traffic. "You have plants to sell."

Tom turns back to the front, but slips one hand around the back of the seat and rests it against my leg. The amount of work I do to concentrate on anything other than the amount of heat flowing through me is exhausting, but exhilarating at the same time. Lauren signals her entrance into the school parking lot, and I am almost relieved.

..................................

The plants, what's left of them, are set up. It's a pretty motley pile of fading greenery, but there are enough that we have an entire table of things to sell. They aren't as pretty as the plants we sold yesterday, but we can always discount them if need be.

Tom and I are working alone for the first little while, and we take advantage of the lack of customers to enjoy each other's company. It's not a big thing for us to sit side by side, but for me to be able to get used to the idea of being in a couple, being able to reach over and place my hand on Tom's without any sort of hesitation is a huge thing. I don't think either one of us has stopped smiling since we got out of Lauren's car.

"So where did you apply to school, Tom?" I cross my fingers that at least a few of our choices are the same.

"I already told you, out of town."

"Yeah, but where out of town?"

"Why? Are you going to follow me there?"

"Who me?" I smirk at him. "Maybe."

Tom takes a deep breath and lists off his choices. Two of the three are schools I applied to, and when I inform him of this, he laughs. "Maybe we could be roommates." He wiggles his eyebrows at me in a suggestive way and I can't help but blush, thinking of the things we could do if we were roommates, and how much I am not ready for some of that. I facepalm, trying to hide my embarrassment.

Tom reaches across and pulls my hand off my face. "Slow down there, 95. Look at you overthinking everything. Let's just see where this goes. There's no need to do anything until we're both ready." Interlacing his fingers with mine, he leans in and brushes his lips against mine lightly before pulling back and speaking softly. "We have time to try things together. No need to rush."

"I'm sorry, I just don't want to disappoint you."

"Honestly, what you did for me, for us, yesterday is far from disappointment."

"Well, I hope you remember that when you're my date for my mom's wedding."

................................

By noon all but two plants have sold, and the heat is making me have wet patches on my stupid shirt. Again, all that care into dressing, and for what? I've turned into a smelly puddle, where, for whatever reason, perhaps sheer determination, Tom looks good. Composed, desirable, and, well, a lot less disheveled than me.

"Alright, boys. I think you can go for the day." Mr Sway has taken the last of the money to deposit; we made another hundred dollars or so today. "You're both looking a little warm, why don't you go get out of the heat or something?" He holds out a twenty dollar bill. "I think you deserve lunch at least. It's on me."

I hesitate, but Tom doesn't. "Thanks Mr. Sway. I could really go for something cool. Let's go, Justin."

"Sure."

As Mr. Sway drives off, Tom gives me a grin. "What do you say we go eat?" He holds out his hand, and I take it, feeling only slightly conspicuous as we walk down the street towards the plaza. Cars drive by, but nothing bad happens. In my mind I've always built up something like this...something like walking down the street hand in hand with my boyfriend and just all sorts of negative reactions. But no cars have honked, there's been no tragic accidents, things haven't been thrown. Could it be that people just don't care about who I care for as much as I thought?

It feels nice (if not slightly sweaty) to be walking with Tom, holding his hand. It's almost empowering to be able to do this, mostly because I wasn't sure I'd ever be able to. His long, thin fingers feel right weaved between mine, soft but firm, fine but strong. And I'm proud to be seen with him, the boy with the dark floppy hair and sea blue eyes, his look falling on me like waves breaking against the rocks; trying to drag me in, catch me in the undertow, as I get tossed about, unsure. Tom is a risk I'm willing to take. Being with him. This time, it's my turn to take the initiative. He's waited for me for long enough.

I stop walking, pulling back on his hand, causing him to spin towards me. With my free hand, I put it on his back and reel him in for a kiss. His back is dampened with sweat and I can feel his breath catch as I lean into his lips, eyes wide in surprise. The kiss is fierce as I try to put all my longing into it. At first Tom is shocked, but then he starts responding, his lips moving in turn. The kiss is electric and it's nothing I ever want to end, but it has to. A car does honk this time, and some one yells, "Get a room!" but I suppose it's warranted. I give an embarrassed laugh and we continue walking.

"What was that about?" Tom's lips are swollen a little and break into a grin. God he's attractive.

"I just wanted to. I wanted to prove to you that I'm not ashamed or scared or anything." As the words slip out, I realize how pathetic that sounds. "Uh, sorry, I just wanted to kiss you, Tom."

"It's okay, I get it. And for the record, I'm not opposed to it." And I'm glad, because neither am I.

We go into the coffee shop together (it's the closest place to eat near the school) and sit at a table for hours. During the week, students get kicked out after fifteen minutes, but seeing as it's a Sunday and not too crowded, they don't seem to mind. We've had sandwiches, donuts, coffee, iced coffee and a long conversation about everything and anything. And it's been amazing. At various times, for emphasis or just out of longing, parts of us have touched. Hands to hands, squeezing the arm, our feet, knee to knee, and one particularly daring moment, I actually reached across and brushed his hair out of his eyes, my fingers trailing along his pale soft-skinned forehead, tendrils of silky hair tickling my hand. It caused a shiver to travel through both of us, and I had to shift uneasily in my seat.

Tom held my gaze and his tongue darted out, ever so little, from between his lips. "We should go soon, before they kick us out." He pointed to the clock and I realized the day had just slipped by.

"I guess we'd better get moving. I don't want Lauren angry."

"Yeah, I'd rather not take the bus back." We stand and clear our table of our garbage, then Tom holds out his hand, and I take it, quickly peeking around the cafe. No one seems to mind. It's just me and my insecurity. Rather than bristle, when he sees what I did, he squeezes my hand, leaning in close to my ear, "Relax, Justin." And his breath dances along my neck causing me to blush. The things I he does to me...

The walk back to the school is quick, and Lauren is already waiting in her car by the doors. She keeps looking impatiently at the loading dock, not realizing we're coming up behind her, until I see her eyes dart to the review mirror. A grin spreads across her face and it's obvious that she thinks we're cute together.

"Come on, Lovebirds. I've got places to be," she sings out through the window as we approach the car. "You two can sit together in the back. Who am I to halt true love?"

"Screw off, Lauren," Tom grumbles, but he still climbs into the back with me and resumes holding my hand.

"So, good day, boys?"

"I suppose you could say that," I answer with a grin. I can't help it. When I look down at our hands intertwined, it's better than I could ever imagine. Tom squeezes my hand and he smiles at me, warming me from head to foot. I'm not sure how this is going to go, but I'm all in and I'm happy.