Hostile

by Nicole Dykes

But my eyes eventually land where they always do. On the boy with sandy-blond hair and piercing green eyes. He’s thin and kind of lanky, a few inches shorter than me and a hell of a lot smaller in frame. But he exudes attitude and has a “fuck off” vibe I can’t bring myself to ignore.

There’s no denying my insane attraction to this painfully elusive, beautiful boy. And no part of me wants to fight it.

I’m too forward with him. I know that. Normally, I’m cool and detached. People drift toward me, but that’s not going to happen with Rhett. I have to be the aggressor. The one who makes every move, and something about that lights me on fire. I feel challenged around him. Something I haven’t felt in a really, really long time, if ever.

“You shouldn’t have to come out anyway if you don’t want to. It’s so dumb. Why can’t you just say, ‘I’m dating this person,’ and that be it? Not ‘I’m gay’ or ‘I’m bi’ or whatever. It shouldn’t matter.”

I didn’t know it was my job to make him smile until I met him. Now I know. This is my destiny. Making my grumpy guy smile.

Because when you’re offered love, even if you don’t trust it at first—when they show you over and over again they love you, you just have to accept it.