Jay's Gay Agenda
Page 14
6.Make out with Albert, or Tony, or you know, any guy who keeps himself in my personal bubble, with tongue, and hard enough that I’d get a little burn from his stubble. run my fingers along that perfect jawline. the hottest snowman this side of the North Pole.
7.See another penis besides my own, IRL, and do fun things with it!
8.Lose. My. Virginity!
9.Become part of a super-queer, super-tight framily by impressing everybody with my epic costumier skills, erasing the “new kid” label, and becoming homecoming royalty.
10.Figure out a way to make my gay dreams come true and not destroy my bestie’s life.
It was better than anything I’d ever imagined. Tony pushed me into the deck railing, his hands against my cheeks. White and blue and silver paint smeared against his palms. I suddenly didn’t mind someone touching my face anymore as he pressed harder and deeper with each kiss.
The velvet carrot nose on Tony’s costume rubbed against the top of my head, over and over and over. But I didn’t care. He had a whole other protruding carrot thing going on that drew all my attention with each press of his body against mine.
For years, I’d wondered what this moment would be like. What it would feel like. Who it would be with. My mind was on such an overdrive of sensation that I couldn’t really make sense of my thoughts, or even know where Tony’s lips ended and mine began. But there was one thing I knew for sure:
This was totally worth the wait.
15.
Get Ghosted by Your Bestie
I don’t know how long we stood there making out. All I know is that when one of Tony’s fraternity brothers pulled him back, creating enough space for cold air to whoosh between us, it wasn’t long enough.
“Yo, dude, your Little is puking all over the den! Chunks everywhere!”
Tony looked to the sky in exasperation. “Fuuuuuuck.” He nodded back toward the house with a silver-smeared chin. “I have to handle this.”
“Okay,” I panted. My chest heaved as I tried to catch my breath.
Tony put his hand in my pocket, and if anything was going to make me explode, it was his fingers being just centimeters away from my dick. Thankfully before any spontaneous ejaculation could occur, Tony pulled out my phone and handed it to me. “Take my number. Let’s continue this next weekend. Saturday?”
I licked my lips. They felt wrong without Tony’s stubble rubbing against them. Why did people ever waste time talking? All my mouth wanted to do was mash itself against Tony’s sexy smirk.
“Yes, please,” I said.
I unlocked my phone and Tony entered his number. He put it back in my pocket—there was that combustion feeling again—and leaned in for one last, hard kiss. “See you then.”
I wondered if there was an actual vat of ice somewhere at this Fire & Ice party. If not, I was definitely going to melt.
“I don’t know why everyone isn’t kissing all the time.” Max and I were in the Uber back to his house. “Tony was just so . . .” There was nothing in the English language to describe him. What word captured the ability to set each and every one of my nerves on fire?
“Based on Tony turning your face into a Picasso, I’d say he liked it too,” Max said.
“Thank you for introducing me to him.” I ran my fingers over my still throbbing lips. “How’d you know he’d want to make out?”
“Tony has always had a thing for guys with killer hair. I had a hunch he’d think you were cute.”
Max winked as he reached over and ruffled my bangs. It made me think of Tony running his hands through my hair. And there I was with a boner again.
“But how did you know he would bypass just thinking I was cute and head straight to making out?” I asked. “It’s like you have some sort of superpower.”
“Let’s just say that Tony is a very physical kind of guy.” Max grabbed my hand, his red nail polish stark against the white makeup covering my skin. “Look, Jay, just so you know, Tony isn’t really a relationship type of person. He was kind of known at school for being . . . easy, which is such a judgmental word, and that’s not the vibe I’m going for here. I’m all about sex positivity, and while Tony does get around, I have it on good authority that he is always safe, consensual, and sexy. Maybe I should have told you before. But as your Libido Liberator, I just wanted your first make-out session to be no strings attached with a guy I was pretty sure would be down for it. I thought you’d like that too.” Max cringed. “Did I read the room wrong and totally screw up?”
So Tony wasn’t into relationships. I guess that instantly took him out of the boyfriend regression analysis. But if he was still interested in having some fun, that didn’t mean we had to stop. I could just focus on giving Albert my heart and giving Tony any body part he wanted.
I brushed my fingers against my lips again. I never wanted the phantom Tony tingles to go away. “It was a good make-out session,” I said. And it didn’t make it any less good that Tony had kissed a lot of people before me. In fact, his experience might have been what made it so good. He knew exactly what to do and just how to make my whole body go wild. Plus, I was the one to make the first mouth-to-mouth move. Tony being into it made me feel that much more like an actually attractive senior instead of some middle schooler who would forever be on the sidelines while everyone else was locking lips. “You did good, Max. Gay Guide of the Month Award.”
“Only the month?” Max smacked my knee. “Lord and Taylor, I am underappreciated.”
My phone vibrated with a text from Tony.
We never made it up to my room. Guess I’ll have to show you next week
My stomach turned, a mix of excitement and nerves and horniness bubbling in my gut. I showed the text to Max.
“Looks like I might have gotten you more than your first kiss,” he said.
I wondered if that could really be possible. Was I just a week away from crossing off at least one of the penis items on the Gay Agenda?
“Okay, yeah. Gay Guide of the Year Award,” I said.
“Damn straight. Or . . . damn gay.”
“I have to text Lu about this. If anyone would appreciate that I’m going to go out with a college boy, it would be her.”
I pulled up Lu’s and my texts, ready to let fly the scruff-filled kiss news. I stopped short when I saw our last text exchange about Chip, full of all the Eat Shit GIFs we could find. Would it be heartless to send her a text about Gay Agenda accomplishments when her love life had crumbled? But then again, she’d been the one to say that just because things weren’t going so hot for her didn’t mean that I couldn’t share when things were going well for me. So I decided to embrace the moment and just go for it.
I’VE BEEN KISSED!
I set my phone down and turned to Max. “I don’t know what it is you want to do when we graduate high school, but if it doesn’t include matchmaking, you’re wrong.”
“So far the plan is fashion stylist, but I’ll be sure to include matchmaking services on my website,” Max said.
We pulled up to his house and I looked down at my phone. No response. The subject of MY FIRST KISS was definitely drop everything and get back to me ASAP–worthy. Maybe if I added more of the juicy details, Lu would text back.
He was dressed as a snowman!
I never knew snow could be so hot!
Plus, he had stubble!
You were so right that it feels amazing!
And we’re seeing each other again next weekend!
I think I won’t be a virgin much longer.
I was probably being a little overenthusiastic, but I was on a high from the combo of making out and a cup full of Polar Potion.
When we got to Max’s place, we tiptoed up to his room so we wouldn’t wake his parents. They were so much more easygoing than Dad would be. Max straight-up told them we were going to a party, and they said as long as we Ubered and texted if anything “completely unruly” went down, we were fine to go.
Up in Max’s room, I checked my phone aga
in as I grabbed makeup-remover wipes. Still nothing from Lu. What was going on? Sure, it was one in the morning on a Friday night, but Lu wasn’t the type who went to bed early on the weekend.
I *said* I might lose my virginity! I typed. Text me!
Max pointed accusingly at me through his taffeta curtains. “Jizz Genie tip: don’t text Tony again tonight. You don’t want to look desperate.”
“We said you wouldn’t call yourself that, and for the record, I wasn’t texting Tony. I was texting Lu about kissing a guy for the first time.”
“Oh, that reminds me. Don’t mention to Tony that he’s the first guy you ever kissed. That’s a lot of pressure. So many gays don’t want to have the responsibility of teaching someone everything about what it’s like to be with another guy.”
I didn’t think I’d have to worry about blurting any of that to Tony. The next time I saw him I intended on making sure my tongue was too tied up with his to say anything Max put on the Do Not Let Slip list.
I dove through the draped taffeta and plopped next to Max. “I’m totally on board with pretending I have this secret sexually experienced identity if it means Tony will want to make out more.”
Max laughed. “I’m not saying to lie or anything. It’s not secretive so much as . . .” He looked toward a wall that he’d completely covered in pictures of his favorite runway looks. “Think of it as having confidence. No matter how well-made the clothes are, no outfit is sexy unless you’re completely sure of yourself in it. When I came out as genderqueer, runway models were the secret to my success. Even if it was a struggle at first, I learned to exude their power and self-assuredness. Do that and you’re golden.”
I caught my reflection in the mirror of Max’s vanity. I’d removed most of my makeup, but missed a section around my lips that was smeared by Tony’s mouth. “I mean, Tony didn’t seem to have any issues with the way I kissed.”
“Exactly,” Max said. “Don’t overthink it. You’ve got this really cute country-boy thing about you. It’s very endearing.”
I glanced at my phone again, hoping I might have missed hearing the ding of a text from Lu.
Nope. Still nothing.
Studies show that the average person doesn’t start losing friends until around age twenty-five. I was still seven years away from that, and honestly didn’t think there’d ever be a time when Lu and I weren’t BFFs who spent hours on the phone talking about me, Tony, and Tony’s tongue.
But ever since I moved away, Lu and I were talking less and less. Maybe I wouldn’t have to worry about telling Lu I was bailing on the hoedown. Maybe she was going to bail on me. I’d thought the chances of that ever happening were a big, extra-bold zero.
It looked like all my friendship stats were completely wrong.
16.
Find a Guy Who’s Got (Video) Game
I still hadn’t heard from Lu by Saturday afternoon. I stared at my phone the entire time I got ready for my date with Albert, my lips still buzzing from making out with Tony. This was exactly the kind of moment when I needed my best friend: to talk about how bananas it was to go from the world’s most massive gay dry spell to making out with a college boy and going on my first date within twenty-four hours. It made me pretty mad, actually, that I’d spent so much time over the summer listening to her go on and on about Chip, but she couldn’t be here for me the weekend I was crossing off some serious items from the Gay Agenda. I knew she was having a rough time, and it was a very real possibility that it stung that my life had this whole upward trajectory when hers was going downhill. But she shouldn’t say she wanted to hear my good news and then not follow through when I had news to share.
I put the finishing touches on my bangs, then grabbed my phone from the bathroom sink. Maybe if I texted Lu the seriousness of the situation, she’d finally stop giving me the silent treatment.
About to go on MY FIRST DATE EVER, I texted. Could really use some support.
If we both had iPhones, I’d get that nifty “delivered” message as soon as my texts made it to Lu. But she and Aunt Carol had gotten some good deal on Androids a few years ago. Up until now, text delivery had never been a problem. Lu would type back right away, making a received note irrelevant. My stomach burned with bitterness at her radio silence when it should have been fluttering with butterflies.
The doorbell rang.
Footsteps stomped down the hall.
Oh no. Dad was answering the door. He was always such a stoic and serious guy. I could just imagine the kicks he’d get from freaking Albert out by interrogating him with horrifying questions.
HIDEOUSLY EMBARRASSING QUESTIONS DAD COULD ASK ALBERT
1.What are your intentions with my son?
2.When was the last time you were tested for STDs?
3.Are you aware of the firestorm that will rain down on you if you break my son’s heart?
I raced down the hall and grabbed the doorknob just before Dad could reach it.
“Why all the excitement?” Dad asked.
“No reason,” I said. “Just, you know, eager to hang out with new friends.”
Dad peered through the peephole and let loose his knowing grunt. “This wouldn’t happen to be a special friend that you’re hanging out with, would it?”
I had to avoid this conversation at all costs. “Sorry, Dad, I’m going to be late.”
I flung the door open.
“Ready?” I asked. Without thinking, I grabbed Albert’s hand to pull him away from the house before Dad could get to those embarrassing questions. But as I moved to shut the door, it jammed against something very solid. Dad’s steel-toe boot was in the doorframe, and just as I expected, he was staring Albert down. It hit me that I was holding Albert’s hand so Dad was for sure going to hop right into STD questions.
“You must be Jay’s friend,” Dad said, putting his hand out to shake. “I’m Rick Collier, Jay’s father. Nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too, sir. I’m Albert.” Albert let go of my hand and shook Dad’s. He was tall enough that they were at the same eye level. They smiled pleasantly at each other. Albert didn’t seem nervous, and Dad wasn’t being weirdly intimidating. Everything was going surprisingly well.
But then Albert moved to let go. Instead of doing the same, Dad squeezed his hand tighter and dropped the smile from his face.
Oh, frack.
“Albert,” Dad said. “Albert what?”
I. Was. Mortified. “Dad. Don’t,” I pleaded.
Albert stared at his hand, lost to Dad’s vise grip. “Albert Huang, sir.”
“And what do you do, Albert Huang?”
Albert looked to me, his eyebrows raised. All I could do was cringe. “I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.
But Albert was much more composed than I was. “I’m a student, Mr. Collier.”
“At my son’s school?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Any criminal history?”
“It’s all been expunged from my record. So technically, no.”
Dad cracked the tiniest smile. Albert was winning over my extremely annoying, extremely nosy dad.
“Great. Let’s go.” I grabbed Albert’s hand and yanked him from the front porch. I didn’t stop our mad dash until we were around the block and outside the radius of Dad yelling anything embarrassing after us.
“Ohmigawd, I’m so sorry about him,” I said. “He just wants to give me a hard time because this is my first date, and I guess you could call me a virgin at this whole gay thi—” I stopped and planted a huge face-palm. I couldn’t believe I’d just said that. Not only had I called myself a virgin—which of course instantly made me think of what sex with Albert might be like—but I’d also let slip that I had zero experience with guys. Max said that was a huge no-no. I had seriously messed this up.
Albert nudged my shoulder. “Can I tell you something?”
It took everything in me to pull my hand away from my face. “I’m sure it can’t be any worse than what I just said.”
“This is my first date in a long while,” Albert said. “So it’s practically like I’m a virgin too.” He smiled again, letting loose that dimple. Gawd, I wanted to kiss it. And his mouth. Especially his mouth.
Then what he said actually sank in. I was shocked. He was the prime VSB of the whole school. People should have been lining up to date him! “How is that possible?” I asked.
Albert shrugged. “My last relationship kind of put me off dating. I haven’t felt a connection with someone in a while. It’s just that I’m . . .” He paused for a long time, then sighed. “Never mind. It’s too heavy for a first date.”
“No, what is it?” I wanted Albert to feel as at ease with me as I felt with him.
“Okay. Remember PrinterBot?” Albert asked.
“It’s kind of hard to forget your first head-on collision with a robot.”
Albert laughed again while my heart sprouted wings and took off into the drizzly sky.
“I’m the Chinese kid who likes robots,” Albert continued. “And video games, for that matter. And people seem to think that gives them the right to peg me for a stereotype. I’ve heard some ignorant comments from guys I was interested in after my ex about how I must get straight As and like Panda Express. Or that because I’m a gamer, I’m somehow feeding the stereotype. But I like figuring out how machines work and kicking ass at a game. I don’t want to be judged for what I enjoy. Sometimes people’s judgment can just really kill the mood, you know?”
“I get what you mean,” I said. “I’m a gay guy who likes theater and RuPaul’s Drag Race and watching old episodes of Will and Grace. But just because I like certain ‘stereotypically’ gay things doesn’t mean that every gay guy who walks the earth is exactly the same. I tried to explain this at my old school all the time. I was the only out guy, so me liking all these things that my straight friends assumed were gay things only reinforced the stereotype for them. It got really annoying hearing this stuff from people outside our community, but for you to be getting these racist judgments from guys you thought about dating? That’s horrible. I’m sorry you went through that.”