– BLAKE ABEL FOSTER –

I wake up the next morning, feeling refreshed from a nice night of uninterrupted sleep. I rarely sleep the entire night without waking up for some unknown reason.

I sit up in my bed, stretch and rub the sleep from my eyes. I lean over toward my night stand and grab my phone to check the time.

10:37 AM

God, I love summer.

I notice, on the lock screen, I have a Facebook notification.

Ben Smith has sent you a friend request.

My heart jumps and my stomach feels like it’s doing somersaults again.

Was I being too obvious yesterday, smiling like a baffoon and telling him the wallpaper on his phone was cute?

I slide the notification to the right, unlocking my phone and pulling up Facebook. It brings up his friend request and I immediately hit “Accept.” Facebook then gives me the option to write on his wall. I almost click the home button on my iPhone, but decide against it. Instead, I write on his timeline.

Hey, neighbor! Thanks for the friend request. Feel free to text or call anytime you want to hang out.

My finger hovers over the “Post” button for a moment as I scan over what I just typed.

Okay… Doesn’t sound too needy. I’m not conveying anything that says, “I want you, right here, right now.”

I smile at that thought and hit “Post.” Wish I could post something that conveyed that message, though. God, he’s so handsome. Makes it hard for me to breathe just looking at him.

I so badly want to Facebook stalk him right now, look at his wall and read shit, scan through all of his pictures. But, just my luck, my finger would slip and I’d hit the “Like” button on a picture from like two years ago. I don’t want to be that obvious. Because, I mean, come on… if you do something like that, it makes you look like that Michael Myers character off the movie Halloween when he’s stalking his sister in the streets at the beginning of the movie.

I slam my head back down on my pillow and let out an audible sigh. He seemed so nervous yesterday. And the way he didn’t want to let go of my hand when he introduced himself. Did that mean anything? Maybe I’m reading too much into it. I notice my phone light up on my night stand.

I reach over, pull it off the charger and lay back down, holding it above my face. It’s another Facebook notification.

Ben Smith likes your post on his timeline.

Seconds later, another notification appears on top of that one.

Ben Smith commented on your post.

The butterflies return to my stomach, flapping their wings with reckless abandon. I lose grip on my phone and it slams down onto my face.

“Fuck,” I yell. “Damn it!”

I rub the tip of my cheek bone, where the phone landed. I push myself up to my side, so I’m looking down at the phone. I slide the notification to the right, bringing Facebook up again. It brings up my post on Ben’s wall and automatically scrolls down to his comment.

Same here, man. Call or text anytime. 🙂

Oh, snap! A smiley face! Fuck! Am I reading too much into this shit? Why can’t “gaydar” be a real thing? Like an app on my phone or something so I can just scan him. Ya’ know… see if he’s something I can even pursue.

I back out of Facebook and bring up my text messages. I hit the compose button which brings up a blank message screen. I tap the blank spot next to “To: ” and begin typing Ben’s name. When it pops up, I click on it, adding his name to the recipient spot. I then click down in the free text spot and begin typing out the message.

Hey, Ben. What’s up? If you’re not busy today, my buddy and I may go to the city and grab a bite to eat, maybe go to the mall. You interested?

I hit Send. My heart beats quick, stomach churning. Hanging on to what his reply might say.

– BENJAMIN JAXON SMITH –

I look around at the bare walls of my bedroom. No posters, no pictures, nothing. I didn’t even get my bed set or dressed up. I slept on top of the mattress, on my floor. Kind of reminds me of a jail cell – or what I imagine a jail cell to look like.

I climb up off my mattress and look around my room, boxes here, bare dresser drawers against the wall, TV stand with my 42″ sitting on it, not plugged in.

God, today’s gonna’ be great, I think to myself, sarcastically.

Only highlight of my day, so far, was sending a friend request to Blake and him accepting it. I couldn’t tell you how happy it made me when he accepted and posted something on my timeline. If there was a “Love” button, I would have chosen that over “Like.”

I get up and walk over to my window. It is located above the garage and looks out over the street. I glance down the street at Blake’s house. Why does my heart yearn for him so much? I’ve never believed in love at first sight, but that’s kind of what I’m feeling. But, why? I don’t even know if he, quote, “Plays for the same team.”

I hear my phone vibrate. It pulls my gaze away from Blake’s house as I lower the window blinds. I climb back onto my mattress, expecting it to be a message from Becca. The screen has already dimmed.

I press the button at the bottom of my iPhone, illuminating the screen. My breath becomes trapped in my throat when I see it’s a text message from Blake. I swipe the message preview to the right to bring it up in full screen view.

Hey, Ben. What’s up? If you’re not busy today, my buddy and I may go to the city and grab a bite to eat, maybe go to the mall. You interested?

I’m smiling so hard right now, I’m surprised my face hasn’t torn at the corners of my mouth. I sit there, unable to move my fingers. I’m happy, but petrified at the same time.

Of course I want to go. What the hell am I going to wear? How should I act? Jesus Christ, Ben! Pull yourself together! This isn’t a date – it’s just guys hanging out.

Without even thinking, I begin typing in my response.

Sure! Sounds great! What time we heading out?

I hit send. Since he has an iPhone as well, I see the grey bubble pop up with the three dots as he begins typing his reply. My phone buzzes for a split second as his reply pops up.

Oh, I was thinking somewhere around noon. That okay for you? I’ll stop by and pick you up and we’ll head over and pick up my buddy, Chris. You’ll like him. He’s a good guy.

As if my fingers have a mind of their own, I begin typing.

If he’s half as nice as you, I’m sure I’ll like him just fine. 😉

I hit send and immediately slap my forehead with the palm of my hand.

Oh, God. Please don’t be creeped out, Blake. Please, God. Please don’t tell me I just made a huge mistake.

I see the bubble with the three dots pop up. I feel sick to my stomach. The bubble disappears, then pops back up again. After, what feels like an eternity, but realistically only about 10 seconds, his message bubble appears.

You’re sweet. 🙂 See you in about an hour.

Like an idiot, I raise my hands in victory. That has to mean something, right? Straight guys don’t talk to each other like that, do they?

Please, God. Just let me have one ounce of happiness. Let me find someone to love, someone to love me back. That’s all I want. That’s not asking for too much, is it?

After that miniature prayer, I quickly hop out of bed and make my way to the shower.