Not So Nice Guy

by R.S. Grey

Ian’s hair is blue. My cheeks are still red.

I’ve decided to finally pursue Sam, but I haven’t had the courage to actually get to the pursuing part.

“I think I’m going to ask Sam out on a date,” I tell my mom on the phone Wednesday night. “OH MY GOD.” She drops her phone in shock and the screen shatters. She can’t call me back. This is why I don’t tell her things.

I have no clue what we used to talk about. Did we ever have things in common or was I delusional? I can’t think of a single thing to say to him that doesn’t include the Gatorade or our phone call from last night. Oh, duh! “What a nice spring day it is,” I say wistfully. We pass a window and it’s pouring outside. Tree limbs fly this way and that. A small tornado tosses screaming livestock here and there. “Yep. Nice,” Ian says with a knowing smile.

My thumb barely slips under her band shirt, and her soft skin feels so good I dip my entire hand beneath the material then slide it around to cradle her back. It’s not much contact, but it makes my heart thud in my chest to have her this close.

my mom glances down at our hands and her expression makes me look down as well. She looks so horrified I briefly think, Oh no, are we accidentally having sex or something?

“Just…I don’t know. In case you want to slow things down.” “I don’t.” “In case you get sick of me.” “I won’t.” Alrighty then.