eighteen:: when your lips are put to work.

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[I Kissed A Girl by Katy Perry]

EIGHTEEN: when your lips are put to work.

"Hey, are you okay?" I'd asked Andy when I made my way into the boys' locker room shortly after he'd left the cafeteria with all eyes on him. Sliding my way past my old soccer buddies who'd long since stopped acknowledging my presence, I slipped into the always unlocked door. The benches, written on and beaten down from years of overuse and the lockers a bright red color, the boy in question slumped down beside his own.

Captain was written on the locker in black block letters and his jersey was hanging out of it as if it were thrown in there in a fit. With his cleats thrown across the room and his head in his hands, I could tell he'd lied about Coach calling him in.

He'd lied about it being nothing an he'd been stressed about something.

Looking up at me, his eyes were bloodshot as he tried to wipe away any evidence, "I- yeah, I'm fine."

But the turned over crate of footballs was a clear indication that he was lying about that as well.

Slumping beside him, I bit my lip, not really knowing how to comfort him. Silently, I hoped that he'd want to e left alone but obviously I'd never be able to leave him in this state. His dark hair was tousled from taking his hands through it so much and he was staring at a small hole in the wall.

Picking at my sleeve, I looked over at my friend, trying to form words. I wanted to create a pep-talk that had Paul -the king of pep-talks- swooning.

But that didn't look like it was happening any time soon.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I'd finally been able to ask after sitting in silence for at least ten minutes. The air was thick and sitting next to your broken down friend while you have no idea what's going on isn't really the best situation to be in.

He shook his head, turning his face so he could look at me, frown etched onto his normally goofy face, "no," he said in a small voice, licking his bottom lip as he tried not to let his emotions show.

His red cheeks were a dead giveaway.

He'd been crying a hell of a lot, you could tell by the hoarseness of his voice, "Andy-"

Shaking his head an effectively cutting me off, his eyes flickered down to my lips before meeting mine again. I could see the hesitation but I wasn't fully aware of what was happening until it had happened.

Until his lips were pressed against mine and he'd kissed me. His lips were slightly chapped and hesitant as if he had no idea what the fuck was going on.

Nothing.

I felt absolutely positively nothing and that was both a beautiful and tragic thing. It wasn't like how I felt with Paul, it wasn't that rush or that feeling of his lean fingers curving in my hair or his teeth gently biting my lip as he kissed me, small tugs at my scalp.

It wasn't like that.

But that didn't stop me from kissing back.

Andy was cute, he was cute and he smelled woodsy. His hands were balled in my shirt, desperately. Something about it felt familiar. So I kissed him back.

I let him kiss me and I kissed him back.

Andy looked vulnerable and with the way he was clinging onto my shoulder, he needed to feel something. And all I know is that I didn't want to see the hurt on his face.

"Fuck," he'd sworn when he pulled away, lips red and eyes wide as he released his grip on my shirt, backing up so fat he nearly hit his head on the locker behind him. Averting his gaze, he raked a shaky hand through his hair, "I'm so sorry."

And then realization hit me. You know that feeling you get when you've done something really fucking stupid and impulsive but you don't fully process it until it's happened and you've thought about it a million times?

This was it.

"You kissed me." And I kissed you back.

I kissed Andy, Andy kissed me... It didn't really matter, all that matters was the fact that I didn't push him away. I didn't acknowledge that he wasn't Paul or that I wasn't supposed to be kissing anyone else.

I liked Paul.

I was going on a date with Paul.

And yet I fucking screwed up, I always screwed up the good things.

"I know," Andy had murmured, eyes screwed shut as a string of curse words flew from his mouth. We were both still sitting on the floor, trying to figure out with the fuck just happened and why it did when I came to a realization.

"Aren't you straight?" I asked incredulously, it just passing my mind how weird this was, "aren't you dating Abby Hendricks?"

Andy had basically been dry-humping this blonde girl named Abigail less than a week ago and now he was kissing me spontaneously. To say I was confused would be an understatement.

"I don't know..." He basically yelled, frustration hitting him like a stack of bricks, "Can you not tell anyone?"

"You think you're bi?" I asked with my eyes wide as I tried to understand. When it came to sexuality, I knew exactly what I was, I might not have accepted it but I understood it... I wasn't attracted to girls. Andy wasn't even sure where he stood and that had to be terrifying.

"I could be. I don't know, man."

"Are you attracted to guys?" Was all I could ask, this was almost as new to me as it was to him and I didn't know how to react.

He snorted at that, "I kissed you, didn't I?"

I couldn't respond to that- it was just too... Weird, "I can't- I have to at least tell Paul..." Standing, I made my way to the door, not even getting a step in before Andy stood, frantically grabbing my wrist and pulling me closer so I couldn't leave.

"No," pushing me gently to a locker, he tried to persuade me with his eyes, "you have to swear to me you won't tell anyone. I can't deal with the shit you're going through, I'm not like you."

For some reason, that struck a nerve, "Like me?"

"I didn't mean it like that," he was quick to defend, rolling his eyes at how offended I'd gotten. It had become hard to distinguish whether people were insulting me or outcasting me because of my sexuality, everything sounded offensive.

"Yes you did," I shook my head, pushing him off slightly as if his touch bothered me, "What's wrong with being like me?"

"Nothing, Julian," he sighed, letting go of my wrist before resting his forehead on a locker beside me, his arms coming up to rest beside his head as he spoke out through gritted teeth, "look, I meant I'm not as strong as you, I can't tell my parents and I can't come out."

With a sigh, I tried not to judge, "Your friends will accept you, Andy. We got you."

"Please just promise me you won't say anything." His voice was small as if he knew he was asking for too much and his bottom lip was drawn into his mouth as he seemed to struggle with his anger.

Paul, "I can't-"

"I fucking need you right now," Andy looked offended, "you're supposed to be my friend."

He wasn't trying to guilt me, that was what made me feel so bad. I could see it in his eyes that he literally felt hurt and betrayed and that was the sad part, "Andy..."

And then his irrational part started coming out as he tried to convince me, "You're not even dating though so it's okay, right? You can kiss other people."

But we both knew how I felt about Paul if we were both being honest, he knew how much I liked Paul from the way I could only ever talk about him. It was pretty obvious that Andy was completely trying to graze over that fact, "It's not like that, we established that we wouldn't kiss anyone else, I can't just lie to him."

"Then don't lie. You don't have to tell him, technically you're not lying."

Groaning, I closed my eyes, covering my face with my hands as looking up to the ceiling. Why the fuck did I follow Andy and why the fuck did he decide to kiss me at that moment?

"Why me?"

"Uh..." Andy smiled sheepishly when I'd looked over at him, daring him to answer my rhetorical question. He didn't get the memo when he raised an eyebrow as if I were stupid, "You're hot?"

: : :

I'd been stressing an stressing over the kiss with Andy, it plaguing my thoughts and distracting me throughout the extra soccer practice Coach had forced us all to endure.

Drenched in sweat that heightened my irritability, I didn't even have the strength to fight against Ricky's taunting, cutting Andy off short when he'd tried to defend me. If we were all being honest, everyone probably thought the gay captains had broken up and I didn't really care.

Well, I didn't until I remembered that Calum had to think we were together.

Forcing myself to forget about that, I hopped out of the shower, water trickling from my limp hair and towel wrapped around my waist as I headed to Coach's office to change. I tried to make myself comfortable with Andy in the room, trust me I did but when I started to see his eyes trailing to my abs, I realized that I'd better not. And deciding to change in a bathroom stall, I grabbed my bag. I hadn't wanted to so much as speak in front of Andy let alone change and the frown on his face hadn't stopped me.

"Julian..."

Stopping in my tracks, I squeezed my eyes shut; Andy was making me confused and scared. Yeah, maybe I was a little selfish by not thinking about how he must've felt ten times worse than me but... I didn't even have a reason why I was acting this way; I just didn't feel like it was okay to still be this close to Andy after he'd placed his lips on mine.

"I gotta change, Andy." I was becoming aggressively aware of the fact that there was a red towel hanging off my hips and exposing my v-line. Crossing my arms over my chest, I tried to cover part of my body so I didn't feel so vulnerable.

Andy must've noticed how uncomfortable I was; looking down, Andy cleared his throat, "We're supposed to be changing in here."

"I know," I tried not to insult him, "I'm just going to the bathroom."

"Why?" Andy challenged.

I didn't have an answer that wouldn't upset him. I was sounding more and more like my teammates, changing away because I thought he'd hit on me, "Because..."

"Because you're afraid I'm going to make a pass at you?" Rolling his eyes, I saw his shoulders tense. Since I'd shared captaincy with Andy for two years, I'd gotten used to his tells. When he was upset, he faked anger; when he went silent, he was angry... And when he yelled, he was pissed, "Yeah, you're nice to look at but if I wanted you, I would've made it clear by now."

He was biting down hard on his bottom lip, shaking his head before hurrying to put on his jeans, "I don't have time to deal with this shit." Pulling on his shirt and socks, Andy zipped his bag before slipping on his shoes and leaving.

: : :

Due to the fact that I had been with Ben early that morning, I'd ride to school with him and Will that morning and back to his house later on. After a session of changing repeatedly and being as frustrated as could be with not knowing where Paul and I were going, I settled on some light jeans and a button up white short sleeve shirt, pairing it with my Tims.

I'd tried to look my best even through the run to catch the city bus and the ride next to a heavily sweating man. I'd pretended to be occupied with my phone until I could get off at the stop closest to Paul's apartment complex but that was hard with the jitters in my stomach and the feeling that I was too dressed up or Paul wouldn't like it.

Those jitters followed me up to his floor and even as I knocked on their door, heart in my hands.

I didn't even have the willpower to feel guilty about Andy in fear that I'd back out.

The door swung open, as I sucked in a breath, picking at the ring on my finger and hoping that I didn't look as nervous as I felt.

Stepping inside, I tried to relax, "I'm here for Paul-"

Luck was not on my side that day because my words were cut off by a pair of soft lips pressing to my own, my hands automatically shooting out to grab onto the person, trying to catch my balance. The feel of a waist was way to feminine to be a guy and I still found myself not minding it. And when I had tightened my grip, I felt bare skin, moving my hands up a small back until I felt long hair.

Hair that definitely wasn't Paul's.

My lips kissed back, me not registering what the fuck I was doing as a finger stroked my cheek. I'd come to terms with the fact that it was a girl I was kissing and... I didn't mind it. I didn't mind the soft skin, the plush lips, or the petite hands resting on my shoulders. I didn't even mind the feeling of a bra clasp as my hands trailed upwards.

That scared me.

When the perpetrator had pulled away, my eyes widened as she smiled at me biting her lip. I was aware of my hands on her waist and her obvious femininity. My eyes stared into her brown ones looking for answers as she threw her head back and laughed, "you're a good kisser, gay boy." I watched the words spill from her pink lips, hands drawing back to my body instead of around her as I tried to distance myself.

Rilee must've got the hint, standing to her normal height instead of on her toes and straightening my clothes out for me. Her small hands fixed my hair that I'd spent an hour perfecting for my date with Paul.

Paul, "Why exactly did you kiss me?"

I was gay, I was gay and I was kind-of-committed to a guy and I'd just kissed Rilee.

I must've looked as scared as I felt because she pushed my shoulder lightly, "It's for a video, chill."

"Ri, we got it!" I heard Landon's voice, pulling me out of my reverie before I was overcome with more confusion than I could handle.

"Next time try more tongue," the redhead had said seductively, winking at me. I'd forced myself to believe that the churning in my stomach was due to nervousness.

And with that she was off... and the camera man was glaring at me.

I heard him mutter an 'i can't do this' before pushing the camera into Landon's hands and exiting the room, his fists clenched.

But I couldn't shake the feeling off that I didn't hate the kiss. I didn't hate kissing a girl and that seemed wrong.

I was gay.

A/N:

I once heard that you can't be a realistic author unless you've had a significant amount of suffering for your characters to go through.

I'm not doing my job if everything is all sunshine and rainbows.

xx

Updated: Monday, Sep. 7th


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