It Started as a Joke

“Boys! Be quiet!” The librarian’s scolding tone seemed overly loud in the large, silent room filled with books and Toby and John’s voices instantly grew hushed. They hadn’t realized they were making so much noise, and they felt guilty for disrupting the peaceful environment. As the old woman walked away she gave them a dirty look, and Toby shot John a look of his own that clearly said ‘Oh shit, we got her mad now!’. John had to bite his tongue to refrain from giggling, and there was a look of pride on Toby’s face that he had gotten John to smile. They grinned at each other as they turned back to their work.

“So, when are we going out on our date?” Toby looked up from his work to look at John, the owner of the voice that had just ruined his concentration. The question was a long-standing inside joke between the two teens, and they’d always drag it out and try to make it as awkward as possible for other people who weren’t in on the humour and silliness behind it. “Well,” Toby said, “I was thinking tomorrow night? We could go to Pete’s just down the road, have a burger, maybe even split a milkshake.” John was nodding in agreement, “Yeah, we could even share the straw!” Through his giggles, Toby went on “Ok, so I’ll pick you up at your house around 7:00 then?” “Works for me,” John answered with a grin. They leaned in, enveloping each other in a huge, obviously overexaggerated lovey-dovey hug. As they pulled apart, however, their eyes met, and there was a moment of silence as they both stopped for a second and looked at one another.

John’s voice finally broke the silence. “So… are you, like, actually… you know… gonna take me out on a date?” Toby blinked at him. “Um, yeah… sure man. I’ll take you out.” The two hugged again, though this time their faces were red and their ears were burning. When they broke apart they left with hurried goodbyes, nervous and excited for their “date night”.

The next night John was in his room, flipping out over what to wear. It’s just a meal, stupid. You don’t have to look perfect or anything. However, he still can’t get rid of this feeling that he wants to look good. And not just look good in general, oh no, he wants to look good for Toby. That last part slightly confused him; why would he care what he looked like in front of his best friend? Needless to say, he spent almost half an hour in his room trying to pick out what to wear, and when he finally decided on something he still wasn’t pleased. Oh well, he thought, slumping in his bean bag chair, I guess this is just how I’m going to look.

Meanwhile, Toby was having problems of his own. His short, curly brown hair refused to be tamed, no matter how much product he put in it. After almost an hour in his closet he had finally decided on what to wear, but now he was having hair issues. His glasses didn’t help his confidence either. Said glasses were sitting on the bathroom counter in front of him and he couldn’t help but wish he didn’t have to wear them. They didn’t match his outfit and he felt like they kind of ruined his facial complexion- he stopped short. What the hell? They don’t match? They “ruin my facial complexion?” What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve never cared about this before! Why should I care? That’s a totally girlish thing to say… He shrugged it off, busying himself once again with the task of taming his wild hair.

At 6:59 PM, John’s doorbell rang. “I’ll get it!” he yelled. He raced down the stairs and flung open the door, staring breathlessly at Toby, who was… Wow. John couldn’t take his eyes off of his friend. He was wearing a blue button-up polo shirt, with simple khaki colored jeans and his black Converse All-Star sneakers. His normally unkempt hair was slightly slicked back, though some of it still stuck up in places. John almost giggled out loud at that part. He secretly loved how Toby’s hair was just kind of everywhere, all the time, like it refused to stay in any style other than messy. Toby was wearing his navy-blue rimmed glasses, which was nothing new, but John couldn’t help but stare. The navy blue color along with the blue shirt made Toby’s eyes seem that much more vibrant, and John could feel his face flush. “Hey, you ready to go?” Toby asked. John nodded, turning around to hide his growing blush. “Hey Dad, I’m leaving to go have dinner at Pete’s with Toby. I’ll be back before 10:00!” “Alright, have fun son!” John took a deep breath before turning around, facing Toby once more. “Okay, we’re good.” Toby nodded in response and John stepped outside onto his front porch, closing the door behind him. For a moment, both boys just stood there, awkwardly trying to not look at each other (or at least act like they weren’t both openly goggling each other). Finally, Toby cleared his throat and motioned towards his car, which was parked in the driveway. “Shall we?” he asked in a strained voice. John nodded mutely, walking towards the car and getting in the passenger's seat.

Once both boys were in and buckled Toby turned on the radio, and REO Speedwagon’s “I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore” came on through the speakers. Toby was mouthing along to the lyrics and John felt himself start to stare at Toby’s lips. They were pink, not too thin and not too big. They looked really soft, and John found himself wishing he could reach out and touch them… His eyes travelled upward and he found Toby giving him a weird look. It was then that John realized his arm was extended, his hand outstretched. He blushed and quickly moved it towards the dashboard, turning up the radio a couple notches as if that had been his plan all along. He then turned to look out his window, trying to distract himself from the boy next to him.

They pulled up to the restaurant and both got out of their respective sides of the small car, smiling shyly at each other as they walked up to the main door. When they entered they were immediately surrounded by flashing lights and loud music, along with the scent of cigarette smoke. They grinned at each other. They loved this place- it was their favorite restaurant to go to. Plus, it was local, and fairly cheap. They ate out here all the time- after soccer practice, after band concerts, after getting out of detention together- basically, any event was a reason to go to Pete’s, and they lived by that motto religiously. Their waitress led them to a table in the far back corner, away from the dance floor and jukebox. She handed them menus and left to grab their waters, as neither one of the boys had ordered anything special. For a moment, everything seemed normal, and both boys felt comfortable in their booth.

They made small talk, ordered their meals, ate their salads. The music was continuously changing- it went from Michael Jackson to Carly Rae Jepsen, then to Aerosmith, and then to Lady Gaga. Songs from all eras and genres were blasted throughout the restaurant, and the boys bobbed their heads along appreciatively. Finally, after an entire meal of awkwardly meeting eyes, blushing faces and not-so-subtle staring, John finally spoke up.

“You look really good in that shirt.” Toby’s head shot up, his eyes wide as he stared across the greasy table-top at his friend. John continued nervously. “Also, I really love your glasses. I know you hate them, but I think they make your eyes look brighter.” While speaking John looked anywhere but at Toby. He didn’t want to see the looks of horror and disgust on his face- John felt a soft, warm hand cup his cheek and his head was turned back towards Toby. Toby brought his other hand to John’s face, and he broke out into a grin. “I think you look really good tonight too.” John blushed, which seemed to make Toby smile wider. The background music faded away for a few seconds, signaling the end of a song. Suddenly Redbone’s “Come And Get Your Love” came on, and both boys ears perked up at the familiar tune. Toby’s face flushed slightly and he stood up from their booth, coming to stand in front of John and extend his hand, the universal sign of asking him to dance. John grinned, standing up and walking hand in hand with Toby to the middle of the restaurant where the dance floor was.

They danced and danced, smiles on their faces as their bodies touched, fingers got tangled in hair, and lips brushed. They were living right on the edge, and the feeling of adrenaline was contagious. It wasn’t until they realized what the time was did anything interrupt their mood. They had gotten into their own little bubble, and none of the looks shot their way could burst it. They danced and laughed and touched and kissed and dared, dared to open up, dared to put their feelings out in the open where everyone could see. After nearly three hours of dancing the clock read 10:21, and they scrambled to get back in Toby’s car. John had told his father 10:00, and they knew they were late, and they’d probably have to endure a lecture, but honestly, they couldn't care less. They were both giggly, high on the feeling that they shared. Hands and lips brushed against each other again, more passionately than before, and they only stopped when they reached John’s house.

Toby waited in the parking lot until well after John had disappeared from sight. He almost didn’t feel like he could drive home; after all, you weren’t supposed to drive intoxicated. He laughed out loud at the thought, though thankfully did manage to get home without incident. When his mother, father, and sister later questioned his giddy mood, all he could go was grin and shake his head. He wasn’t sure what he’d tell them. After all, he hadn’t come out yet, he hadn’t even realized he liked guys, he was just figuring it out as he went. Thankfully, his parents declared that they were retiring to bed, and didn’t stick around to hear his reason. His sister, however, was eager for details, and he felt that he could trust her with the night’s events. So they both went up to his room, him sitting cross-legged on his bed and her sitting in his desk chair. “So, do you want the short story, or the long one?” Her sister gave him a look that indicated he should already know the answer, but humored him anyway and answered “The long one. And don’t you dare leave anything out!” He chuckled at the response; that was typical Kylee. “Well, it’s funny, actually,” he began. “See, it started as a joke…”