Psychosexual [BoyxBoyxBoy]

Chapter 8

   I was sitting nervously on the couch, glancing at my phone to look at the time and slowly count down the minutes. My life was supposed to be boring and empty, not full of dangerous emotions filled by the anticipation of the unknown.

Was today the day? If it was, then why was I marching to my own death?

The plan was to be late. Arrive late to work, be sloppy and careless, but not too much. I wanted to avoid attracting suspicion, but do enough that I'd be deemed useless and be thrown out like trash.

Somehow, even with the universe screaming at me, I trusted Elijah. I wasn't following my heart or my brain, because the two were a working pair at the moment, fighting me. I knew better than to walk back to that place. I knew that I'd be risking more than just embarrassment and a job. I saw a man get murdered. This was bigger than me. So against the wishes of the universe, my heart and my brain, I was going to follow my instincts, march my ass back to that godforsaken place and get fired.

I trusted Elijah would do it.

I was already half an hour late. I decided to ride the bus to make it even longer and at the same time, keep my bestfriend away from this mess. The less he was involved in, the better. He had his questions about my recent behavior, and my excuses ranged from the job being weirdly demanding to California, just California. Anything I managed to make up, he swallowed willingly and without further questions.

I chewed my thumb to the point that the skin began to break. I knew that if I didn't stop, it would swell and hurt like a bitch tomorrow. But if my life wasn't a good enough reason not to go back to that place, a sore thumb was the least of my problems.

An old lady sitting across from me on the bus kept staring at me. It was making me uncomfortable. I tried to ignore her for as long as I could, but those big eyes were glued to my face like a magnet. I looked away and focused on the back of the bus, since I was sitting close to the front. There was a group of goths occupying the long row of seats in the very back. They were all wearing big headphones, lost in their dark little world. I honestly thought they were extinct.

Right in front of them, completely minding their own business, was a group of teenage boys playing with a football. A few seconds after I started watching them, two girls with long braids climbed aboard and joined them, smiling happily as they received friendly kisses on the cheek from each one of the jocks.

I thought back to my awkward moment with Elijah on the back of the bus. I still remember the feeling of his hand squeezing. I jerked off to the memory, immersed myself in the fantasy like it had all been a dream. But it was real and I still couldn't believe it.

The moment was forever engraved into my brain. Was it shameful to say that it was one of the most exciting things that had ever happened to me? Sounded like something a virgin would say. Except I wasn't. Granted, the only experience I had was with Chance, and there was nothing to brag there. I guess that in a way, I was like a virgin—utterly inexperienced and sensitive to the simplest things.