Testing My Feelings

Chapter 11

When I got home, it was nearly 1:15 PM. The first thing I did was run straight up to my room. I threw my stuff against the wall and jumped into my bed. I was just laying there staring at the ceiling, thinking, and thinking, and thinking, until I had dozed off.

Ding! Dong! Someone rang the door bell.

Knock! Knock! Now they were knocking.

I got up out of my bed and went to see who was at the door. I had noticed that the clock in the living room said 3:00 AM, which didn't make any sense. First I know I wasn't asleep for that long and second, no one would be knocking at my door at three in the morning. I just figured that the clock got reset or something and didn't think much of it.

I looked through the peep hole of my front door. It was Connor! He was wearing his soccer uniform for some reason. I don't why. There wasn't even a game today, but I guess he did see my texts.

"Connor! You're okay!" I exclaimed.

"Oh I'm more than okay, cutie," he said to me as if he were flirting with me.

Suddenly Connor grabbed me and pulled me in to my living room. He stripped off his jersey and started kissing me. For some reason I couldn't move. I couldn't even speak. He kept kissing me as he pushed me down on to the couch. It felt really good, his plump pink lips pressed against mine and tongue tickling the inside of my mouth. I liked him kissing me. I just wanted more. He striped of my shirt and threw it across the room. He then looked me in the eyes and started intimately touching my chest working his way lower and lower.

"Andrew. I love you," he said to me, his eyes showing his affection for me.

He slid his hand under the waistband of my shorts. Reaching lower, and then he...

"AHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" I screamed, as I went flying out of my bed, crashing into the floor.

My heart was beating faster than a humming bird flapping its wings. I was absolutely horrified. Terrified. My breathing was rapid and heavy, like someone who was about to be murdered. My shorts, wet and sticky.

"Holy shit!" I screamed.

"Did I just have a wet dream about Connor?!"

I had wet dreams before in the past, mostly when I was thirteen. They only happened once and a while when I was fourteen and completely stopped at fifteen. Now, me, sixteen, was having a wet dream, about my childhood friend, a boy no less.

"What the fuck is happening to me?!" I said to myself as I began balling my eyes out.

The tears ran down my red face. I just kept crying. I couldn't understand what was happening to me or why.

I turned and looked at the clock in my room to see how long I was out. It said 2:26 PM. It was almost the time I told Connor to come so we could talk about what happened. So, I tried my best to compose myself and stop crying, in case he did show up, but my face was still red and wet. Then, I heard the door bell ring, this time, for real. I ran down the stairs and looked out.

Sure enough, it was Connor, just like in my dream. I opened the door. Connor was stand there looking towards the ground, avoiding eye contact.

He looked up asked, "Andrew, why do your shorts have a big blue dark spot on them."

Oh my god! I completely forgot to change. Now Connor was here, looking at the remnants of my wet dream about him.

"Wait. Were you just crying before?" he asked as if he was guilty of something.

"I'm sorry. I have to go," Connor said to me before he ran off once again.