Brent made me talk to a girl.

She had perfect hair, and perfect eyes. She wore skin-tight clothes and smiled with pearly white teeth that were perfectly straight, the effect of either perfect genes, or braces. She had a voice like honey, and skin like tanned porcelain.

And, I didn't like her very much.

But, Brent wanted to talk to her friend, who, as he described her, had a pretty face lost in a sea of beautiful ones.

It sounded more poetic in his head, I guessed.

We spent some time with the girls at Brent's place (even though Brent insisted on me telling the "Perfect Girl" that it was my house so she would like me more) and Brent came to like his pretty new friend.

My night, however, wasn't fantastic.

Her name was Hally. She talked like I wasn't worth her time and kissed like we had all the time in the world. She held herself delicately and held me like she was tearing me apart. But, she preferred to kiss rather than talk, and I liked that. Kissing was easy. Talking involved lying, and I'd done plenty of that already.

Brent was telling me about his girl (who I later discovered was named Piper, after immediately forgetting that name when Hally told it to me) when we were home alone at his place.

"She's smart, too. Not just pretty," He boasted, "And she reads. Full novels, not just poetry or captions on television. She didn't kiss me, but I think she might have wanted to, you know? And she's so much prettier in person. So much prettier..."

"Brent."

"Oh, and she knows the fancy words for stars! She called them incandescent bodies. Isn't that adorable? I really like her. I think you'd love her, you guys will get along so well! Both of you are snarky as hell."

"Brent."

"Did I tell you she said she wanted to see me again? Isn't that nuts?! I thought I scared her off by being so dumb. Who knew an idiot like me could get a girl like that to like him, huh?"

"Brent!"

"What?"

"Some guy gave me his number the other day."

Brent immediately paused his game to turn around and face me, sitting just below me on the floor in front of the couch. His eyes glowed, and he had a grin like the Cheshire Cat.

"No way!" He exclaimed. "Who?!"

I shrugged. "Just some guy. He works at McDonalds and I met him when I was getting a milkshake. It was right after I left your house. He was nice, and I guess he was flirting? I just thought he was being funny.."

He was absolutely riveted by that story. I wasn't sure why.

"And..?" He prompted, "Are you going to call him?"

I just shrugged again. He rolled his eyes.

"Come on! Some guy is interested in you, and works at your favourite place? Does he go to our school?"

"I don't think so. I didn't recognize him."

"That's a plus! He won't be at our school to tell people! You have to call him."

I thought it over. Maybe Brent was right. It didn't have to be something serious, just someone like me to talk to. Someone who I could talk about gay stuff with. Brent liked to pretend he could understand what I was talking about. He tried to relate it to girls, and being straight, but wouldn't it be better to talk to a person who actually did understand, instead of someone who pretended to?

But, I shook my head no, and firmly told Brent to leave the subject alone.

I knew it wouldn't end there.

...

At home, I rummaged through my garbage bin. You know, like any teenaged boy does on a typical night.

I hauled out an empty McDonald's cup and turned it over. No number. I threw it onto the floor beside me and kept looking.

Finally, I found the cup with Calvin scrawled messily on the side and quickly (and very sloppily) stumbled to my bed to grab my cellphone. I typed in the number and added it as a contact.

My thumbs hovered over the keyboard hesitantly, and I twiddled them with mindless numbness as I tried to think. Is is this a good idea? What if I change my mind? What if he tells on me?

I typed out a message, my lips syncing the words as I wrote them.

Hi, Calvin. If you didn't know, I'm the three milkshake guy. I bet you don't get very many of those. I saw you left me your number, so I decided to say hello.

I must have read that message over thirty times before I shut off my phone and went to sleep without clicking send.