Omorphi (6 page)

“Over what?”

“Nothing, man. It was stupid.”

Stephen and Jared exchanged looks, then conversations resumed, and everyone settled in.

Michael and Jake went through the cafeteria line, and Christy followed, staying close to Michael. Christy picked cherry Jell-O and a carton of 2 percent milk for his tray. Concerned that was all Christy was going to eat, Michael asked, “Do you want a sandwich?”

Christy shook his head.

The line moved forward, and they made it to the hot-food counter. Miss Lottie, the cafeteria manager, met them with a warm smile. As far as Michael was concerned, she was the nicest person on the school staff. “Jacob, Michael, I see you met my good friend, Christy.”

“Sure did, Miss Lottie. How’s the sexiest girl in school doing today?” Jake asked.

She laughed a low, warm chuckle. “Keep up that lip and I’ll be calling your daddy. The usual?”

“The usual, and I’ll try to hold myself back. It’s a tall order,” Jake continued to tease.

She chuckled again as she passed a plate of chicken breasts over the sneeze guard. “Michael, you?”

“Drumsticks, please, Lottie. Can’t say I blame Jake for trying.”

“Lucky for you, I have to walk my sorry old bones to the office to get your mama’s number.”

“Oh please, Miss Lottie, take pity on me! She’ll punish me in the worst way!” Michael exclaimed in his best falsetto.

“Mmm-hmmm.” She nodded through another chuckle. “Christy, you’re lookin’ mighty fine in your mint green scarf today. Potatoes or soup?”

Christy mouthed, “Potatoes.”

“Here you go, sugar. Mashed potatoes, extra butter, and lots of gravy. I put a few steamed carrots in the bowl too. They’re real soft today.”

Christy mouthed, “Thank you, Lottie.”

“Would you like me to dice up some chicken for you? We gotta get some meat on your bones, don’t we?”

Christy glanced away for the briefest of moments and then shook his head, mouthing “Thank you” again.

“All right, sugar, you just let me know when you’re ready. I’ll dice you up anything you want. You go on now, eat up.”

Michael bent and whispered as they moved down the line, “She sure likes you.”

Christy smiled up at him.

“Do you have trouble eating because of your neck?”

Christy’s face clouded over, and he shrugged almost imperceptibly.

Michael couldn’t help but run a gentle fingertip over Christy’s nearby wrist in sympathy. “Sorry.”

Christy stilled and looked down at his tray. With decided effort, he copied Michael and ran a timid fingertip over Michael’s wrist, and Michael thrilled at the small, intimate touch.

By the time they made it back to the table, a food fight was underway. “Children, children! Must you?” Jake yelled over the din and flying food.

A few more corn kernels and carrots flew before everyone began to clean up the mess.

Christy set his pad on the table next to his tray and glanced at Evan before scribbling and holding the pad up to Jake.
Thank you for the help this morning
.

“No problem, man. Sorry it happened.”

Christy turned the pad to Michael, and Michael winked at him. “Anytime.”

“Are we going to see you at practice today?” Jake asked.

Christy nodded as he swallowed a bite of mashed potatoes, then scribbled
#1 Fan
.

“Look at that, Michael. You have one whole fan.”

“Right? I’m so proud of myself.”

“Michael!” came an ear-splitting shriek from across the room.

“Don’t look now, bro, but I think you might have two whole fans,” Jake said quietly.

Chloe Williams hugged Michael’s neck from behind. “Hi, Michael!” She rudely moved between Jake and Michael and wormed her way onto Michael’s lap.

Michael stifled a grimace. “Whoa, Chloe, I’m trying to eat here.”

She turned and put her arms around his neck. “I know. I just have one quick question. Will you go to the Spring Fling with me?”

“Ditto the last three times you asked, Chloe. I don’t do dances.”

“Just this once, please, Michael? C’mon, it’s our last year. Please?”

“I know for a fact that half the dogs in school are dying to go out with you. Danny Fiore would give his right arm to take you, and he’s captain of the football team.”

She pouted. “I know, but I want to go with you.”

Her whine grated on Michael’s nerves, and he lifted her from his lap by the waist. She felt squishy in his hands. All girls felt squishy to him.

“You better ask Danny before Emma Gibson asks him. It’d be a perfect political move for your queenship.”

“Think so?”

“I know so.”

“Okay, but think about it for the May sock hop.”

“It’ll be the same answer.”

“Just think about it. Come on, please?” She leaned in and kissed his cheek.

He leaned away quickly. “Same answer, Chloe. I don’t do dances. Ever.”

“Oh, Michael, you’re such a spoilsport.” She huffed and walked away.

Michael leaned back in his seat. “God help me.”

Jared chuckled. “Why don’t you like her, man? She’s hot.”

“She squeals like a strangled cat.”

“Who gives a crap? You don’t have to talk to her, if you know what I mean.”

Michael made a face. “What would that get me? Sloppy sevenths just since ninth grade?”

Those who heard the comment burst into laughter.

Michael dared to glance at Christy, who bit his lower lip in a futile effort to stifle a smile. The first bell rang.

“Finish up, man,” Jake ordered.

Michael ate his last drumstick and checked Christy’s tray, pleased to find he’d eaten everything on it. He stood and collected their trays, then decided it would look weird if he took only Christy’s away. He stacked Jake’s on top of theirs and reached for Evan’s tray.

“Thanks, man.”

“No problem.”

He returned a moment later to find Christy standing with Jake, his backpack slung over a shoulder. “You okay to get to class?”

Christy nodded.

“See you after school?”

Christy nodded again and offered a small wave as he walked away.

“Sweet,” Jake whispered into Michael’s ear.

Without taking his eyes from Christy, he whispered back, “Seriously.”

M
ICHAEL
and Jake helped everyone pack their gear and clear the field as Stephen and Jason took the last of the hurdles away. Coach O’Malley walked up to them with clipboard in hand. “Congratulations on the times, Michael.”

“Thanks, Coach.”

“We’re looking good for the state championship. You’re a good team captain.”

“I couldn’t do it without everyone putting in 110 percent.”

“True, true, but you keep them inspired. Jake, how’s that Achilles tendon?”

“Good, Coach. I’m solid for the eight hundred.”

“Great. See you tomorrow.”

“Later, Coach.” Michael gave him a lazy salute.

Jake waited until Coach O’Malley was out of earshot. “You want me to wait while you talk to him?”

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Michael looked into the stands. Christy sat perfectly poised once again. Butterflies began to dance in his stomach as romantic notions spun a heart-laden tornado in his mind. He couldn’t hide his delight as he turned back to Jake. “I’m good.”

“KY?”

Michael flushed crimson. “Shut up!”

Jake barked a laugh. “Had to say it, bro.”

“Jeez, you’re killing me.”

“Listen, why don’t I wait for you in the locker room?”

“What’s the matter with you? I’ll be fine.”

“Nothing. It’s only that Jason Whitman made some snarky remarks, that’s all.”

“About what?”

“About ‘the little fag in the stands.’ He heard about us backing Christy up this morning.”

“So what?”

“He was giving Evan a hard time about it. Saying he should have told us to fuck off.”

“You’re kidding?”

“I wouldn’t kid you about something like that. I’m worried about Whitman.”

“I can handle him.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Have your cell?”

Michael smirked, pulled it from his bag, and shoved it into his shorts pocket.

Jake patted him on the head. “That’s my good little gay boy.”

Michael laughed and shook his head. “You’re too much, man.”

“Call me later? Let me know you’re okay?”

Michael hooked an arm around Jake’s neck and kissed the side of his head. “Wouldn’t miss a call to you for the world, bro.”

“H
EY
,”
Michael greeted as he reached the top bleacher.

Christy’s smile was radiant.

Michael sat next to him and, before he knew it, Christy had pecked his lips with another sweet kiss.

Michael giggled.
God, how freakin’ embarrassing!
He checked the field. Finding no one in sight, he dared to put an arm around Christy. Christy stiffened and moved out from beneath his arm, and an uncomfortable guilt flooded Michael for having assumed he could take the liberty. “Sorry.”

Christy scribbled
Good running times
.

“All because my number-one fan was in the stands.”

Christy caught Michael’s eyes for the briefest of moments before leaning in and kissing a spot on Michael’s jaw. Christy’s breath was a soft, warm whisper on his skin as he kissed his jaw a second time.
Oh. My. God.
Michael’s body immediately went into overdrive, and he cursed himself for having nothing to shove into his lap. He raised a hand to cup Christy’s cheek, and Christy abruptly leaned away, bracing his hands on the bench behind him, his pen and pad falling away to the concrete riser below.

Startled by the fright in Christy’s eyes, Michael quickly lowered his hand. What did Christy think he meant to do? He only meant to, well, he didn’t know exactly what he meant to do, but he certainly didn’t intend Christy harm. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Christy bent and retrieved his pad and pen, then scribbled with a tremulous hand.
Don’t touch?

“You don’t want me to touch you? At all?”

Christy’s brow furrowed as he chewed his lower lip and considered the question.
I will touch you.

“You don’t want me to touch you, but you want to touch and kiss me?”

Christy’s brow dipped further as he puzzled the question, and his eyes filled with… what? It looked like sorrow, but like an uncertain sorrow, if there were such a thing.

Christy scribbled
Better for me
.

That didn’t seem entirely fair. Then again, Michael had no idea what had happened to Christy, and the last thing he wanted to do was scare him. “Ah, okay. I’ll try not to touch you. Just don’t get mad if I forget sometimes.”

Christy mouthed, “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Christy smiled, one of his sudden and bright smiles, right before he sat and began to kiss Michael’s neck again. Michael’s breathing raced, and his heart pounded in his throat, and it took every ounce of his might to be still as Christy made his way slowly, sweetly, down to the hollow of his throat.

Christy’s kisses were like nothing he’d ever experienced. Soft and warm, the sensations had his body going into overdrive. If he hadn’t wanted to ravish Christy before, he sure as hell did now. This needed to stop. This was going too fast. This was everything Michael wanted. And this was two seconds from pushing his body over the edge. He swallowed hard, fighting for control, and swallowed hard again, searching for his voice. “Christy,” he managed to breathe.

Christy glanced up with uncertainty in his eyes and scribbled
No kiss on first date?

Michael cleared his throat and swallowed hard again. Truth be told, back when he thought he could date girls, he’d kissed on a first date a time or two. Then he figured out kissing girls sparked a big fat zero on his hormonal Richter scale. In fact, it grossed him out, and he was about as interested in their bodies as he was a root canal. Christy was everything he’d ever dreamed of in a guy. Not to mention, Christy’s kisses rendered him powerless, a weak and willing hostage to the delicious torment.

Christy took Michael’s silence as quiet acquiescence and kissed his neck again. Michael shuddered and gripped the hem of his shorts as he fought to remain still. “Christy….”

Christy looked up at him again.

All Michael wanted to do was kiss the lips before him.
Dude, you don’t even know his last name!

Christy smiled, clearly pleased with Michael’s flustered state, and mouthed a word Michael couldn’t decipher. He shook his head indicating that he didn’t understand.

Christy scribbled
Salty
.

Michael blew a long, slow breath in an effort to collect himself. “Yeah, I should probably go.”

Christy’s smile fell away, his face clouding over, and Michael’s heart skipped a beat. Never had he seen such utter disappointment in someone’s eyes. “Ah, or not. Do you want to wait while I shower, and I’ll give you a ride home?”

Christy’s smile returned in a flash. He pocketed his pad and pen, slung his backpack over a shoulder, and stood. He moved smoothly, with a fluid grace Michael hadn’t noticed before. Jeez, he was really, like,
sexy
.

Christy caught Michael staring and flushed a light rose.

“Sorry. You’re just so… pretty.”

Christy’s flush deepened.

Michael smiled inwardly, secretly pleased he wasn’t the only one feeling awkward. He stood and hoped like hell his arousal went unnoticed.
Yeah, right, dude. You are so hormonally challenged a swim in the Arctic couldn’t solve your problem.
If the voice in Michael’s head could take material form, he would have punched it.

Christy’s small hand crept into Michael’s, and he looked up, eyes tentatively seeking approval. Michael flexed his fingers and wrapped his hand around Christy’s in silent consent. A guy had never wanted to hold hands with him before, and the mere thought that Christy wanted to hold his was
seriously cool!

Christy beamed as they descended the bleachers hand in hand.