Date: Mon, 1 Feb 2010 02:00:39 -0700
From: ecclectic_soul@hotmail.com
Subject: Secret Admirer: Chapter 1, Fifty Bucks

Hi everyone! If you frequent this site, you know the drill. This is purely
a work of fiction and any similarities between characters and real people
are merely coincidental. This is my first time writing this kind of thing,
so I hope you enjoy it. I welcome all feedback, positive or negative,
ideas, suggestions, ect! Thanks and happy reading!


Secret Admirer: Chapter 1, Fifty Bucks


	"Happy Valentine's Day!" Cynthia's high-pitched squeal echoed
across the courtyard. I glanced up, watching her run toward me with a
mountain of small boxes held in her arms, a comical grin from ear to ear.

	"God, I hate VD..." I mumbled to myself before lifting my head and
saying loudly, "Hey Cynth! You look like you just ran into Brad Pitt and he
proposed!" We laughed as she dumped about thirty small red and pink boxes
on the table where my homework was spread out. My eyebrows crept up as she
pulled more boxes from her pockets.

	"Uh...stocking up for the apocalypse?"

	Cynthia rolled her sky-blue eyes as she sat down and unzipped her
messenger bag. "I know you despise what you call...what was it? Oh yeah,
the `over-commercialized bullshit some people like to call love,' but it's
not all bad. At least they hand out free cavities!"

	I laughed as she motioned to the candy with her best Vana White
impression. "Fair enough. Pass me the chocolate." She threw me a milk
chocolate heart, and then opened her Biology textbook. Curling her index
finger through her curly blonde hair, she scanned a passage and whipped her
highlighter across a sentence before glancing up with curious eyes.

	"Any prospects lately?" I knew that nonchalant tone when I heard
it. She knew I hated this subject.

	"Boys are like--"

	"--like tissues, I know! I know!"

	"Then why'd you ask?"

	Cynthia shrugged. "You know I just want the best for you! You're my
best friend, and a cute guy like you deserves to find an amazing guy who
will give you the world."

	I sighed, annoyed we had to talk about this again. I knew I wasn't
an ogre--my caramel skin (Cynth enjoyed describing everything with
candy), lime-green eyes, and softly muscular build drew many admiring
stares--but relationships were the devil as far as I was concerned. I'd
had enough one-night stands to meet what a lot of my friends called my
"yearly quota," but I never made it to the chain and shackles. I enjoyed my
freedom--not having to buy gifts, or worry where they were every second,
or get jealous when they weren't paying attention to me all the time; in
other words, I was not the needy type.

	"Cynth, I love you to death and I know you mean well, but I like
being single. I'll take sex with no strings attached over the monotony of
monogamy any day."

	Cynthia smiled and nodded, shrugging softly. "Whatever makes you
happy. But who knows? You might snag someone worth the shackles..." she
paused, then threw her slender hands in the air, "...at the raging party
tonight at Pine Peak Bar!"

	"Alcohol and straight men that won't bother me? Fuck yeah!" We
laughed and stood up, dancing around as passing students watched as they
walked by.


* * * * *


	It was nine o'clock and Cynthia was on her way to my house. Freddy
and Tina, one of those disgustingly picture-perfect couples whose
anniversary probably fell on Valentine's Day, were carpooling with Cynthia.

	I ran downstairs to the full-length mirror in the hallway next to
the front door and gave myself a once-over. Destroyed, dark wash
Abercrombie jeans hugged my legs, and I had paired them with a black and
white Buckle v-neck print tee, a black felt cap, and Ed Hardy lowrise
shoes. I smiled, realizing that even though I didn't know relationships, I
definitely knew clothes. Just then, the doorbell chimed loudly. I grabbed
my black Ralph Lauren wool blazer and ran to the door.

	Cynthia smiled brightly as soon as I opened it. She was wearing
dark wash skinny jeans, black fur-lined suede Adi boots, and her favorite
black Victoria's Secret double-breasted peacoat. Her blonde tresses were
pulled back into a barrette and cascaded down her back. I beamed at her
appreciatively.

	"You look amazing, love! Why you tryin' to make me look bad?"

	She played along, striking a vogue pose. "Trying? I'm pretty sure I
make everybody look bad!" She giggled, then grabbed my arm to pull me
outside. "Except you, of course! If you don't snag someone with that hot
ass, it'll be a waste of a perfect outfit."

	I laughed as I locked the front door. Spinning around, I stepped
off the doorstep and dragged Cynthia to her car. "Then we better get going
before all the hot men get away!"

	Pine Peak Bar was nestled in the forested mountains above my
hometown next to our only ski resort and a few quaint novelty stores. It
was a frequent hangout because of the large oak-lined interior and access
to every beer on tap known to man. And if beer wasn't your calling card,
they offered all the hard alcohol concoctions too. Since it was
mid-February, ski season was still in full swing and the bar was packed.

	Walking in, we could hear Cynthia's boyfriend, Rick, guffawing and
joking behind the bar as he served drinks. I glanced over at Cynthia and
saw her face light up when she spotted him. For an uncomfortable instant, a
pang of envy shot through my stomach before I strangled the feeling and
strode through the crowd arm-in-arm with Cynthia.

	"Rick!" Cynthia screamed this and everyone turned with startled
expressions. Rick looked over and his black-haired, blue-eyed smile in
response was like staring into the sun. He nearly ran across the bar,
swooping her out of my arm and into the air like they do in those cheesy
romantic movies.

	"Hey baby! Goddamn, I missed your fine ass!"

	"You better have missed me! Jay and I could've gone somewhere a lot
cooler but we thought, `Rick has been really sweet lately, so he gets to
see us!'" She playfully winked at me, then turned and kissed Rick.

	"Is that right?" Rick chuckled, and before I knew it, I was crushed
alongside Cynthia in Rick's signature bear trap hug. Straight men can be
assholes, no doubt about it. But like a sparsely lit night sky, some shine
apart as genuinely friendly, cool guys. Rick happened to be one of those
guys, which is one of the reasons I enjoyed Pine Peak so much. I had this
theory about straight guys who were the biggest assholes--they were the
ones most insecure about their sexuality. Call me crazy, but if a straight
man is making fun of you or heckling you, I would bet my life that he's
really just trying to put out the fire in his pants...you know, the fire he
has blazing for a tight ass and a mouthful of cock? Yeah, that one.

	Pulling us both to the bar, Rick opened a tab for us and put it on
my debit card. Normally, he would just give us free drinks but his boss was
there for a convention and he had to play the I-never-do-anything-wrong
card. Sipping on some Blue Moon rimmed with oranges, Cynthia and I chatted
with some regulars before migrating to the table where Freddy and Tina had
sat down. Cynthia set the pitcher down in front of Tina.

	"You know what to do."

	Tina, a pale brunette girl with a really easygoing personality,
grabbed it and shook her head as she poured. "You two could get a nun
drunk."

	"No question about that!" Freddy chimed in, running a hand through
the shaggy blonde mess on top of his head.

	"Been there, done that!" I winked at them before glancing
around. The bar was a constant buzz of voices as some played pool, others
threw darts, and in a special corner of the room, throngs of jocks played
the most popular of American college sports--beer pong. Burly guys
cheered loudly as they aced the ping-pong ball into one of the opposing
team's cups.

	"Hey space cadet," Cynthia playfully poked me in the side, "look
who just walked in the door. It's Ms. Diva and her new boy-toy."

	I followed her gaze to the door where Hannah "Montana" Remington,
the resident self-proclaimed `it-girl,' sauntered in with...my glass froze
before it touched my lips. He was six feet or so, his obviously muscular
body straining against a black and gold letterman's jacket (the ones that
turn you into a walking sports ad). He had really generic-looking clothes
and I was tempted to think `walking jockstrap.' I would have if it weren't
for his face. Bronze skin despite the cold winter weather made his face
seem to glow, and above his full lips were deep-set hazel eyes so
mesmerizing, I almost forgot where I was. He brushed brown shaggy bangs
away from his right eye and smiled at someone as he shook their hand. His
smile alone set prickles all through my gut, inching below the waist to
make me adjust my position slightly. It was several moments before I
realized Cynthia was talking to me.

	"...hello? Jay? Jay!" She shoved me, and I snapped out of it to
look over at her. She raised an eyebrow at me, giggling. "You went
catatonic for like five minutes! Are you really that surprised to see
Hannah Montana? She only walks in here like she owns the place every
weekend."

	I cleared my throat and laughed a little too loudly. "Sorry! I just
couldn't shake the shock of knowing that she walked out of the house in
something so heinous! I guess I shouldn't be surprised!"

	"Surprised? No way! She dresses like a rich prostitute; it's
depressing. Anyway, the guy she's with isn't half-bad if you're into guys
who wear their jockstrap to class." Cynthia took a sip of her beer and
tilted her head, looking at me. "What do you think?"

	The question was a knife twisting the prickles into a frenzy
again. I shrugged. "He's okay, I guess. Pretty standard for a girl like
her."

	A look of confusion flashed across Cynthia's face at my tone, and
then she seemed to let it go. She glanced back at the bar where the couple
had migrated, surrounded by not-so-subtle social climbers. Stopping at the
mystery man, her eyes widened before she quickly averted her
gaze. Wondering what was wrong, I began to turn my head.

	"No! Don't look yet!" Cynthia whispered between tense lips.

	"Why? What's wrong?"

	"Nothing's wrong. It's just that the guy Hannah is with
is...staring at you. And he looks like he just got kicked in the balls."

	I subtly, innocently let my eyes drift over to the bar, pretending
to pay attention to other things. Finally, my eyes found his. The electric
jolt that danced through my head when I saw him was enough to make my mouth
fall open slightly. I pulled my eyes away from the bar, having trouble
breathing. I set my glass down and got up swiftly. Tina's concerned voice
barely registered.

	"Hey, are you okay? You look sick."

	"Yeah...um, I just need to go to the bathroom. I'll be right back."
I raced past Cynthia's chair to the back corner of the bar where the
bathrooms were. Shoving through the door, I turned toward the stalls and
rushed inside one, slamming the door shut behind me. Unbuckling my pants, I
pulled them down and let my dick out. All eight inches were hard as a rock
and pulsing violently like I was about to cum. I closed my eyes and
breathed deeply, calming myself down. I had never felt like this
before...never been so out of control. He seemed like any other jock that
came to the Pine Peak. But the look on his face, a kind of mix between pain
and...something else. Anger, perhaps? Maybe confusion? I willed it out of
my mind and felt my dick nod, up-down-up-down, to the floor as the blood
slowly receded. Feeling a little more relaxed, I shoved my dick back in my
Diesel boxer briefs and walked back out of the bathroom.

	I gave the `ok' circle sign to Cynthia, Freddy, and Tina as I
walked back over and sat down.

	"Sorry about that. Must've been something I ate earlier." I knew
she wasn't convinced, but Cynthia wasn't one to pry. She nodded, smiling,
and grabbed the empty pitcher. Freddy burped and held up two fingers.

	"Round two?" He grinned wickedly.

	"Read my mind! Jay, let's see if we can keep our undefeated title
at the pong table!" She laughed and pulled me up to accompany her to the
bar. Freddy and Tina headed over to the beer pong area to declare
war. Walking up to the bar, I realized with utter relief that Hannah and
Hazel Eyes were gone. Cynthia flagged down her boyfriend, who walked over
to us and gave her a kiss.

	"What can I get for you two troublemakers?"

	Cynthia set her pitcher down, and raised an eyebrow. "It's time for
battle."

	Rick immediately saluted her, grinning devilishly. "Aye Captain!
Blue Moon ahoy!" He was about to turn around when suddenly he stopped as if
remembering something. He looked at me strangely for a minute before
turning around and grabbing something on the counter behind him. Turning
back, he set my debit card down in front of me. Cynthia and I couldn't hide
the confusion from our faces.

	"Some guy dropped fifty bucks in Mike's hand, said he's got your
table, and then took off." Mike was a one-man cleaning crew and
occasionally played bouncer during events the bar would put on. "I asked
Mike who it was, but you know Mike. Faces are like a never-ending blur to
him. All he could manage was `some guy in a dumb jacket.'"

	Cynthia glanced sideways at me, her weirded-out expression
mirroring my own. Who buys an entire table of strangers drinks and doesn't
say anything? But Rick wasn't finished.

	"Oh yeah. And Mike said something else, too." Rick looked at me,
and smiled. "It seems you have yourself a secret admirer, Jay."