The Montgomery-Detmer Guide To Making Teenagers Think You're A Witch

Chapter 2: We Did Not Expect The Unexpected

Land. Flat, solid, not cave-like land. Andrew looked up at Steve, meeting his eyes before realizing they were still holding hands. He jerked his hand away, his face turning a light shade of red. He focused his attention on Matt, who was laying on the ground having a fit of laughter, to keep his mind off of anything Steve related. After all, he was sure Steve would never talk to him again. This was a one time thing, a fluke, a small stroke of luck where Andrew hadn't been treated like an outcast. It wouldn't happen again and he knew it because Steve could never like a guy like him in any sense, romantic or friendly. A hand on Andrew's shoulder shocked him out of his thoughts and he flinched back slightly only to find it was Steve, with a large, long, red streak of blood coming out of his nose. Andrew looked at him shocked and backed up before Steve could even get a word out. 

"Dude! You're- You're bleeding! Your nose, it's like, dripping! Shit, here, I think I have like a tissue or something..." Andrew put his hands in his pockets, hunting for a tissue when he felt something on his face. When he touched it with his finger and looked at it, he saw it was blood, just like Steve's nosebleed. Steve, who was busy rubbing his own nose on his jacket sleeve, noticed that Andrew was bleeding too, and knew the only right thing to do in that moment was to be a good person, even if that meant giving up a jacket sleeve. 

"Here, man, you can use the other half! I'm pretty sure the blood will come off since it's leather. We'll be fine!" In truth, Steve had no idea if blood came off of leather jackets, but he thought pretending to know would make befriending Andrew easier. Steve didn't know when he started noticing Andrew, maybe it was freshman year, maybe sophomore year, but oh, did he notice Andrew. He noticed him every single day and couldn't tear his eyes off of him. He didn't know if it was jealousy because Andrew could be a normal kid without all the overwhelming fame, or if it was something more than that. The back of Steve's brain told him multiple times over that it was something more, but it wasn't like Steve could act on it. Yes, he had known for quite a while that he isn't straight, but rural Washington was NOT the place to come out as queer or even show any signs of it. That's what Steve learned from his years of high school. Be straight or be gone. Unless you were Matt Garretty, which in that case you could away with screwing almost the entire football team and get away with it, but he was a strangely special case. His parents didn't care, they supported him, and sure losing fame wasn't terrible, but Steve didn't want to be hated for a stereotype. He was already so many stereotypes, everyone he knew was some sort of stereotype, from goth, to prep, to jock, to black, to white, to nerdy, to grunge. He just didn't want to be an outcast for something he couldn't control, but here in the woods with the boy he kinda, sorta, maybe liked and the school's number one boy toy, he could definitely shake off his perfect boy exterior. It was worth it for Andrew. It would always be worth it for Andrew. So, he handed him the other less blood covered sleeve and the two boys continued to try to stop the flow of blood for several minutes while Matt suffered the same fate, but alone, and with his now ripped up, bloody, poor excuse for a crop top. After a while, the bleeding and the horrible new sensation of their ears ringing came to a low and the boys were able to get out of the woods and back to the party. Before Andrew could sneak into the passenger seat of Matt's car, Steve caught his arm, this time more gently than the last. Andrew looked up, his eyes slightly wide, dreading the worst, but nothing like that ever came. Instead Steve asked him to pull out his phone and then plugged his number into the old, battered up flip phone. 

"So you'll never forget me now, Drew! Good luck with the nosebleed!" And Steve was gone, through the parking lot, past the trees, and back into the building full of crowded people. Andrew was stunned. Rich, popular kid Steve Montgomery, the guy he knew he most certainly had feelings for now, just gave him his phone number in the smoothest way possible. It was unbelievable, unrealistic even, and he spent the rest of the drive home thinking about what he could possibly text Steve, while Matt drunkenly sang along to the trashy pop hits everyone claimed were so fucking fantastic.