Page 54 of Ancient History

His chest rose and fell with ragged breath. “Better.”

16

AMOS

For the rest of the weekend, I ran errands, graded papers, changed three light bulbs that had gone out, and cooked myself a delicious bowl of rice pilaf. I had to congratulate myself for getting anything done after the showstopping blow job I received (and gave, thank you very much) on Friday night.

Holiest of holy shits.

All weekend long, I kept replaying everything in my head, pinching myself that it wasn’t a fantasy. It was very much reality. Hutch and me alone in my bedroom. Hutch sitting on my bed. Hutch looking up at me with those unnaturally gorgeous blue eyes.

Was it any wonder that I had no choice but to climb him like the dreaded rope in gym class?

I earned some extra cash putting down mulch for one of my neighbors on Sunday. They were amazed that I enjoyed doing it since I couldn’t stop smiling.

Hutch and I exchanged a few messages on Milkman over the weekend. Hutch was busy coaching South Rock High men’s soccer to their first two back-to-back victories of the season.

After our bedroom blow jobs, there wasn’t much to say. We’d see each other at school. I wasn’t going to be the needy boyfriend who wanted to talk about things.

I refused to be needy, and we weren’t boyfriends.

I got to school early Monday morning and put together a quiz for later that week. My heart beat wildly when someone knocked at my door.

It was palpitations over nothing. Principal Aguilar strolled in.

“Good morning! How was the party?”

Heat absolutely strangled my neck. “It was a good time.”

My friends and I sometimes hung out with Aguilar. It was a complicated situation since he was our boss, and a little quirky, but he was also a fellow gay guy in town. It wasn’t as weird as we imagined when we did get together with him. Outside of his shirt and tie, he was a warm, friendly man.

“I’m sorry that Clint and I couldn’t attend. We were out of town at a green thumb conference. I have three words for you: water wise gardening.”

He emphasized each word with his hand, like they were inscribed on a billboard.

“Wow,” I uttered with mild enthusiasm. “Maybe next time?”

“Definitely. I’ll bring my karaoke machine. Clint and I are practicing a duet of ‘One Sweet Day.’ We’re sounding really good. Not Mariah and Boyz II Men good, but getting there.”

Did this middle-aged manreallyjust say he was nearly as good of a singer as Ms. Mariah Carey?

“Can’t wait.” I worried about the future of my ears.

“I stopped by to let you know that we’ll be having a pep rally during eighth period. It’s for men’s and women’s soccer, which both had victories over the weekend. Fun fact.” He raised an excited finger. “Soccer is called football in England.”

“Yes. And yet ironically, the word soccer comes from British slang.” I beamed with the victory of finally being able to share that tidbit with someone.

“Whoa.” Aguilar’s eyes blew open with the new information. “Your fun fact blows my fun fact out of the water.”

“Isn’t learning fun?”

“I prefer my fun fact, though. Anyway, I’ll see you later.” Aguilar held out his hand, and it took me a few seconds to realize he was asking for a hi-five.

“Don’t leave me hanging, Amos.”

* * *

My stomach wasin knots when I walked into the cafeteria. This was like our version of the morning after. Did the glow of Friday night only exist in my bubble?

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