by Andrea Speed
COPYRIGHT
Published by
HARMONY INK PRESS
5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886 USA
[email protected] • http://harmonyinkpress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
First Time for Everything
© 2014 Harmony Ink Press.
Edited by Anne Regan.
Midnight in the Maze © 2014 J. Leigh Bailey.
A Warrior from a Different Tribe © 2014 S.A. Garcia.
His World © 2014 Eric Gober.
Just Right © 2014 John Goode.
It’s In Their Kiss © 2014 Kevay Gray.
It’s Not Our Fault © 2014 Charli Green.
Courting Billy Roth © 2014 Nick Hasse.
Dressed to Swim © 2014 Renee Hirsch.
Beautiful © 2014 Ella Lyons.
First Date © 2014 Nicole McCormick.
Step by Step © 2014 Emily Moreton.
Kissing Scars © 2014 Jo Ramsey.
Dear Cody © 2014 Eric Renner.
Dating My Best Friend © 2014 Caitlin Ricci.
Summer Crush © 2014 SR Silcox.
When Wolverine Met Taylor © 2014 Andrea Speed.
Me and My Friend © 2014 Emery C. Walters.
Kiss and Makeup © 2014 Allison Wonderland.
Cover Art
© 2014 by Aaron Anderson.
[email protected]
Cover content is for illustrative purposes only and any person depicted on the cover is a model.
All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Harmony Ink Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or [email protected].
ISBN: 978-1-63216-447-6
Library Edition ISBN: 978-1-63216-448-3
Digital ISBN: 978-1-63216-449-0
Library of Congress Control Number: 2014943464
First Edition September 2014
Library Edition December 2014
Printed in the United States of America
This paper meets the requirements of
ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (Permanence of Paper).
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Dear Cody by Eric Renner
Dating My Best Friend by Caitlin Ricci
A Warrior from a Different Tribe by S.A. Garcia
Dressed to Swim by Renee Hirsch
Courting Billy Roth by Nick Hasse
Beautiful by Ella Lyons
His World by Eric Gober
It’s In Their Kiss by Kevay Gray
Summer Crush by SR Silcox
Midnight in the Maze by J. Leigh Bailey
First Date by Nicole McCormick
Step by Step by Emily Moreton
Me and My Friend by Emery C. Walters
Kissing Scars by Jo Ramsey
It’s Not Our Fault by Charli Green
When Wolverine Met Taylor by Andrea Speed
Kiss and Makeup by Allison Wonderland
Just Right by John Goode
DEAR CODY
ERIC RENNER
DEAR CODY,
It’s taken me two weeks to get the courage to write this e-mail. I’m not sure where to begin, so here goes nothing. Damn, this is hard. I know this probably sounds really strange, but I’m hoping you hang in there with me.
Even though we’ve known each other less than a year, I consider you to be my best friend. I sure wasn’t expecting that when we first met. I remember my mom telling me that a family with a kid my age moved into the house down the street. She suggested I take you around the school to meet some of my friends. But when I realized you were a senior, I figured you wouldn’t even want to bother with me. I’m glad I was wrong about that.
I remember your first day on the bus—how I followed you into the school, and we shook hands when I introduced myself. You seemed really happy to meet me. I was amazed how easily you were able to make friends—you met more people at Whitman on that one day than I knew in my entire three years there. Well, maybe not quite that much, but it seemed that way. Not complaining here, though. I was both amazed and inspired by your social skills and instant popularity.
Damn, Cody. I don’t know where to go with this. We had so many great times last semester and this summer. I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts. My senior year, which is supposed to be the best, is starting out just the opposite. All because you’re not here.
HEY CODY,
I started writing you a different e-mail the other night, and it was going nowhere, so I thought I’d try again. It’s pretty late here, and I couldn’t sleep.
Hope your day was good. It’s Friday night, so your weekend has already started. I bet it’s a lot more fun there on the weekends than it is back here. I’m sure you’re having a blast with all the new friends you’ve made. This may sound weird, but thinking about all that makes me jealous of what college life must be like.
You know, I was thinking back to the day we worked out together for the first time. Remember that? For some reason it popped into my mind during World History today. I think I was just bored with Mr. Godwin talking on and on about things I didn’t care about. That day in the weight room was really a fun time. It was so cool that you took the time to show me how to train the right way. It really meant a lot to me.
Fuck. I can’t stand this. I keep avoiding the real reason for writing. I need to get to the point, or I’ll never send this. And this does need to be sent. So here goes….
Cody, I couldn’t take my eyes off you the first time we worked out. Especially watching you lift those weights. You were so intent on demonstrating the proper form, but my interest was more than that. A lot more. I really did want to learn the right technique, but it was you. Just being that close to you was… I don’t know. I just really liked being there with you. Just you and me together.
I even remember what you were wearing that day—your gray gym shorts and green T-shirt. You know, the one with that funny gecko drawing on it. And those cool running shoes with the neon yellow trim. I wonder if you still have them.
That was also right around the time you got your buzz cut. Man, you looked so completely different when you showed up to school that day. It must have taken a lot of courage to cut off all that blond hair of yours. I mean, I thought you looked good that way too, but suddenly it was like you joined the military—so masculine and strong. Not afraid of anything. You seemed even more confident than you already were, capable of overcoming any obstacle that you were faced with.
“I can help you bulk up a bit. Get a little more definition.” I remember those words as if you said them yesterday. When you suggested that we up our workouts to three times a week, you made me feel like you’d taken notice of me in a different way. Was I imagining it? Or was I just your “project”? Hell, I didn’t care. You had become one of the most popular guys in your class in a short time, and you were taking interest in me. As time went on, I realized that no matter how or why our friendship had star
ted, we were becoming closer.
There’s something more I need to tell you.
Every single time I spotted you on the bench press, I could feel my heart race. I was sure you’d be able to see it pounding through my T-shirt, but I couldn’t help it. I could not stop watching your pecs and biceps flex with each of your reps. I hoped like hell you wouldn’t notice my interest, but I figured if you ever made a comment, I’d have a ready-made excuse… I just needed to learn the proper form. I had it all planned out.
With you lying on your back, you were irresistible to me. I’ll never forget how your shorts clung to your body, and I tried so hard not to stare. I wanted to reach down and squeeze your legs—so muscular, firmly anchoring your body on the floor. I’m sorry if this bothers you, but it is time for me to be honest.
I wanted to take the bar off the stand and climb on top of you while you were lying on the bench. I imagined pressing my lips against yours, kissing you as hard as I could. It would have felt so amazing. I knew your mouth would taste of peppermint, from those mints you were always chewing. “I just like the way they taste,” you said when I teased you about them once. But I wondered if it was more than that—like you always wanted to be prepared if you got physically close to someone. I wanted to be that someone. I had such an aching to make out with you so many times, it was hard to contain myself.
I miss you so much, Cody. I don’t know how you will react to this e-mail. That is, if I ever get the courage to send it. Please just answer me—whatever it is you have to say will be OK. I can handle it. Just don’t ignore me. I can’t imagine losing you as my friend, even though you are now in a completely different world, 700 miles away. God, I hate high school.
Sam
DEAR CODY,
Did you ever wonder why I went to the prom with Jamie? I mean, she and I have been friends since 4th grade. It wasn’t that she couldn’t get a date. She did a huge favor for me that night. I can spare you all the details. Let’s just say it gave me the chance to experience the night with you, even though we weren’t really together.
I looked over at you when “Story of My Life” was playing—you and Tori were dancing so close. Funny, that song seemed so appropriate at the moment. I was the one who wanted to be dancing with you. I wanted to feel our faces against each other, your breath against my cheek, your strong arms squeezing my back. I could almost smell that musky cologne from Hollister I knew you were wearing. I imagined our bodies moving together with the beat of the music, pressing harder and harder against each other. I’d have given anything for that.
You know, that after-party we all went to was pretty fun—at first. But after a while, I felt the ache in my heart surfacing again. I knew I wouldn’t be the one going home with you. I wouldn’t be the one kissing you and falling asleep in your arms. That killed the night for me.
HEY CODY,
How are things going for you there, guy? I felt like shooting you this e-mail even though we spoke yesterday. I really look forward to our phone conversations. I’m glad that we talk more frequently these days. Guess it took a while to settle into a routine there.
This last time we spoke, I felt like I needed more time to tell you about something. But I didn’t know how to begin. Hell, maybe it’s just easier for me to hide behind this message than hear your voice this time. I’m not sure of what your reaction will be. It’s much easier to write this than to speak about it in person or over the phone.
Sorry to sound so mysterious, but I’ve done a lot of thinking, and there is something I’ve been keeping from you. In fact, I started several other e-mails to you—right around the time you left for college—but never sent any of them.
I hope you’ll read all of this, although I’m not completely sure where it’s headed.
Cody, there is something about me you don’t know. Even though we became close friends really fast, there still are parts of my life that I don’t share with everyone. At least not at first. And I’m sorry I didn’t share this with you sooner.
I really don’t know where to start… so I guess I’ll just dive in and see where it goes. So, here it is.
I knew I was different than most guys my age, probably around 6th grade. Just wasn’t sure what it was. Did you know that I was a Boy Scout back then? I don’t think I ever mentioned it. I dropped out after two years—I hated it. But during spring break one year I went to a Boy Scout camp, which actually wasn’t too bad. It was a huge gathering of about 50 troops somewhere in Wisconsin. I’ll never forget one night there. A bunch of us were sitting around in our tent talking. It was like 8 of us. I didn’t contribute much to the conversation since I never really felt connected with those guys. Some of them thought I was a studious, quiet straight-A student. Others probably thought I was just plain weird. To be honest, I didn’t give a fuck what they thought of me. I knew I’d be dropping out soon. That particular night, one of them reached into his backpack and pulled out a Penthouse magazine. He had snuck it out of his dad’s den and brought it with him. Everyone rushed to gather around him, including me, as he went through the magazine page by page.
My reactions were nothing like what the other boys had. I mean, I’d seen photos of naked women before, but never with a group of other guys looking at them. The thing was, I didn’t really care what the girls looked like. I mean, they were pretty and everything, but I didn’t feel like scrutinizing and commenting about each one like they all were doing. Some of the guys got pretty graphic in their comments, and I even laughed at the jokes they made. I felt kinda bad about that. I just didn’t get it, though. Page after page, all the women looked alike. I wondered why I wasn’t having the same experience they were. After all, I liked girls. I really did—just not in that way. Maybe in time it would come.
But it never did. I remember a few weeks later I was at the drugstore with my mom. While she was shopping, I wandered down the magazine aisle. I saw Penthouse and Playboy and a bunch of other men’s magazines I’d never heard of. I thought back to the night in the tent. But something a little farther down the stand caught my eye.
There on the shelf was a special edition of a guys’ fashion magazine—their swimsuit issue. On the cover, in full view for everyone to see, was a very fit muscular guy in a Speedo. He had a smooth and developed chest and a very prominent bulge. His perfect body and contoured suit reminded me of the male divers in the Olympics. I couldn’t stop staring at him. My heart was pounding. I wanted so bad to open that magazine and look at the rest of those guys in their swimwear. Every single one of them. Some would be smooth, some hairy. Some would be wearing Speedos. Some would be in square cuts and some in board shorts. I imagined obsessing over each guy, just like the boys in the tent had done with the photos of the women. My hands were shaking as I reached for the magazine. Even just one glance would be worth the risk that someone might see me. I couldn’t help myself. But then I saw my mom not too far away, so I pulled back and walked away quickly. All I knew was that I needed to get back there someday. I was determined to figure out a way to get a look inside that magazine.
After that day, I stopped thinking something was wrong with me, because it didn’t feel wrong. It felt perfectly natural. But I knew it was just a phase I was going through. Part of growing up and maturing. I read that a lot of guys went through it. I was sure I’d soon be having the same feelings about the girls in Penthouse.
Cody, I know you’ve figured out what I’m talking about. You’re not stupid. But please don’t delete this yet. There’s one more story I need to tell you.
One day after gym class in 7th grade, I had to go back into the locker room. I can’t even remember why. Maybe I left something in my locker. It doesn’t matter now. Anyway, I thought I’d be alone, but was surprised to see Scott Kolar and Dave Sailor heading into the shower room together. They were both on the football team back then too. Maybe they had just finished a special practice or something. I don’t know. All I knew was that I had a clear view of them from behind, completely naked. Their bodi
es were perfect, like the swimmer on the magazine cover, like the Olympic divers. I had a hard time not staring. I told myself that I was just admiring their bodies—that’s the kind of body I wanted someday. Broad shoulders and strong legs. Arms that not only had baseball-shaped biceps, but well-developed triceps too.
But deep down, I knew there was more. I wanted to be in that shower room with them—to see how they looked from the front and how they interacted with each other. Did they stand next to each other in that room? Did they horse around while they were showering? Did they look at each other’s dicks and compare? Did they slap each other’s asses? As stupid as this sounds, I felt my knees get weak thinking about it. I wanted to be with them, naked in that shower room. And I wondered what it’d feel like to have our bodies, wet and soapy, so close to each other. Hot water and steam pounding against the three of us.
I know I don’t need to say any more. My secret is out.
Yeah, Cody, I’m gay. I wonder if you had any idea. I hope what I just wrote doesn’t repulse you. But I’ll never forget how I felt that day, and I’ve never been the same since. You are my friend, and you need to know this. This is how it’s been for me—it was nothing I ever chose.
But there’s more. As you and I spent more time together, I began to… well… I found myself falling in love with you. I know you might freak out when reading this, and I understand that. Maybe I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but I’ve already come this far. More than anything I want us to stay friends and have nothing change between us. But every minute we spent together made my feelings grow stronger. I tried to fight them at first. But I couldn’t.
I ask myself, how can things stay the same with us, now that you know this? Will you still want to see me when you come home on break? Will you be uncomfortable if I ever put my hand on your shoulder again? Will you be thinking that I constantly want to get into your pants? I hope our friendship is more than that, but I’m afraid that this news may put a wedge between us. That scares me. I don’t want to lose you, Cody. I worry that our friendship will never be the same. But I had to tell you this. It has gone on too long, and I am tired of hiding and pretending. I hope you understand.
