Date: Sun, 15 Apr 2012 12:05:00 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tyler Adams <tyleradamsbooks@yahoo.com>
Subject: Almost Straight Chapter 2

Being less than athletic, I had put off my only required PE credits until
this semester. Don't exactly know why I decided I wanted to get them out of
the way by taking tennis lessons, though.

Shelly's presence surprised me as I stepped from the men's locker room into
the spacious indoor courts. I was to meet my student instructor, Elijah
Cohen, there in less than five minutes.

"Hey, Shelly. What are you doing here?"

"I was just on my way to class and remembered you were going to be here. I
just wanted to stop by to tell you that Lisa and I are going over to the
library tonight to study, so I won't be able to meet you for coffee."

I noticed Shelly turn her head to see what had distracted me, and returned
my attention to her.

"That's okay," I said, feeling my eyes drift over to take another peek at
the guy with a tennis racket and clipboard in his hand, making his way
toward us. "I've got a lot of reading I need to get started on anyway."

She took another look at him too, then gave me a peck on the cheek and
happily strode off.

"You Phillip Johnson?" the guy asked, looking at the paper he had in his
hand. He seemed a bit embarrassed about something – or maybe he was just
shy.

"Ye..." I started to answer, then cleared the phlegm from my throat, and
tried again. "Yeah. You're Elijah Cohen?"

"The one and only"

He had a shy smile painted across his face as he briefly glanced up at
me. I'm not sure why, but I blushed. God, I cried out under my breath. Keep
my thoughts out of the gutter.

It's not that most would consider him to be eye candy, but something about
him was sure lighting my jets. He was about my height, five-nine, and
probably only weighed a hundred and thirty or so. His dark olive skin and
the oversized beak on his face with the sharp hook in the middle seemed to
betray his Middle Eastern heritage. But I think it was the ear to ear smile
and his easy gait which caught my attention first. ...and all those dark
curls cascading from the top of his head.

 "...whatsoever things are PURE ... whatsoever things are of good report;
IF THERE BE ANY VIRTUE ...Think on these things," I began reciting in my
head when I realized that my gaze had drifted down his body and now rested
where it shouldn't. The words were part of a scripture passage I had
memorized to try and divert my attention when temptation came knocking at
my door. Over the past few years I'd become fairly good at focusing on
scripture when Satan bombarded me with impure thoughts at the worst
possible times. ...and right now, I have to admit they are anything but
pure. Why God never seemed to intervene and keep my mind from traveling in
that direction to begin with, is still a mystery to me. I mean, God had to
change that – after all, the bible's pretty clear it's an abomination to
him. ...and since I'm committed to being his disciple, why wouldn't he want
to protect me from something he found so disgusting?

On the spot, I once more renewed my determination to not let my guard down
again. If want God to love me as much as I love him I've got to get better
at guarding my mind from those kinds of thoughts. My hope is that
eventually the Tempter'll get tired of trying to lure me away from God and
move on to someone more susceptible to his scheming.

"You okay?" Elijah asked.

"Sorry. Something my girlfriend just told me," I answered, pointing to
Shelly disappearing through the main doors. Please God, forgive me for
lying about it, but I don't think he'd understand, I uttered in my mind,
convinced I had let God down again.



"You've got to hold your wrist straight. Like this," he called across the
net, taking an easy swing, sending the ball toward me.

I tried to do what he told me. I guess it wasn't quite right because the
next thing I knew he was jogging over to my side of the court.

"Here, let me show you."

I wondered how he was going to show me the correct swing as he circled
around behind me. So not prepared for what I felt, he wrapped his arms
around me to grip my wrists with his hands. The sensation of his body
against mine nearly made my knees buckle. He only did it to take me through
a few swings. I tried hard to concentrate on what he was showing me, but I
could hardly breathe. The wiry hair on his moist arms, and the musky scent
invading my nose as he leaned over my shoulder sent shivers up my spine.

He giggled when he felt my body involuntarily quiver.

"I hope you're not a fast learner."

Oh, God, please tell me he didn't just say that. I told myself. Then a wave
of true panic hit with his next words.

"...`cause I could really get to liking this," he casually whispered into
my ear, as we made an arc through the air, striking an imaginary ball.

I knew in that instant I may be in for a battle of epic proportions. God,
why are you letting this happen to me? I whined silently. There was no
mistaking in my mind what his words had meant.

Embarrassed – totally – I wrenched my way out of his grip and began
moving my racket. Holding my wrist as stiff as humanly possible, I took a
swing, determined to show him I understood his instructions without the
physical contact.

"Like this?" I asked. I didn't dare look at him, knowing my face was
glowing crimson. "Please, God," I whispered under my breath. "Guard my mind
from thinking evil thoughts."

 "Yeah, that'll work once you build up your arm strength, but for now, you
may want to use two hands like I just showed you." I looked up and saw him
take another swing. His entire face was smiling. His eyes shyly darted away
from mine when I dared to glance at him.


` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `

Tuesday, September 9, 2008

Dear journal,

Thoughts about today: Today was my first tennis lesson with Elijah Cohen. I
sure hope I'm wrong, but I think he has the hots for me. It was freaky the
way every time I looked at him his eyes darted away like he was embarrassed
that I caught him staring. I am so not going to go there. I hated what
happened to me when he put his arms around me to show me how to grip the
racket. I guess it was just his style of teaching, but when he told me he
could get to liking that, it felt so freaking gay.

Honesty time: Lord, make me feel like that when Shelly puts her arms around
me. I know true love is a commitment and not just a feeling, but please
Lord, if it's not too much to ask, let me know it by giving me those kinds
of feelings when we hug each other.

What I learned: Maybe the key to it is what I read in those stories this
summer. I need to act like a real man, and kiss Shelly on the lips. Lord,
keep us from sinning by not letting us get carried away and doing the rest
of what was in those books.

` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `

Friday, September 12

Dear journal,

Thoughts about today: I did it! I kissed Shelly ON THE LIPS! They make it
look so easy in the movies. I'm glad I got up the nerve to do it too,
because she definitely looked happy afterwards even though it was kind of
awkward at first.

Honesty time: There weren't any fireworks like I had hoped, but that's okay
because I was really worried about Shelly thinking I was after more than
just a kiss. I felt so happy just knowing I did it. I think maybe she saw
them though (fireworks). It's totally wrong for me to compare my first kiss
ever with a girl, to what I felt when Elijah was showing me how to swing my
tennis racket. Why did I even think about that when I was kissing her? Why
am I even thinking about it now, God? Please don't let Satan ruin things
when I'm with her by distracting me with perversion.

What I learned: Shelly's lips aren't at all like I remember Casey's
being. Hers are really soft and squishy. I have to remember to kiss her
more gently next time.

` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `

"Hi Shelly. You ready to go?" I asked over my cell phone as I stood in
front of her apartment Saturday afternoon.

"Be down in a minute."

When my roommate, Andrew, asked me if I wanted to party with him and his
friends that night, I told him I had a date.

"You gonna bring her back here, or are you planning on spending the night
in her room? Just checkin'," he added, a sly, knowing, grin plastered
across his face. "Just want to know whether I should find somewhere else to
crash after the party tonight, that's all."

"Why would you think we were planning to spend the night with each other?"

"You said it was a date."

"...and your point is?" I asked with an edge in my voice.

"Chill, buddy boy. Just playin' with ya. I've had dates with a few girls
who didn't put out so I know exactly how you're feelin'. There're plenty of
other fish to fry if she's a prude."

"We don't believe in doing that before marriage. We're Christians."

"So are my `rents. That didn't seem to keep mom from getting preggers with
me before their wedding."

"Have fun at your party," I told him.

"Have fun on your date Romeo," he said as he reached into his pocket and
then tossed a small, flat, square of red plastic to me. "Don't forget to
wear your raincoat if you run into unexpected dew." Then he turned and was
out the door.

I was steaming at his inference about what he thought Shelly and I should
be doing on our dates. I did, however, tuck the safety device into my
wallet. Maybe this was God's way of preparing me for the intense feelings I
had prayed he would someday bless us with.



"You got the tickets?" I asked Shelly as she bounded down the steps of her
dorm hall. We were going to watch the Nittany Lions lacrosse team play Ohio
State tonight. Not real romantic, but Shelly's into sports.

"Right here," she said patting her hip pocket. "Where're we going for
dinner?" Then she stepped in front of me and surprised me with a peck on
the lips.

"Romano's okay?"

"Are you kidding? You know how much I love pizza. Ham and pineapple for me,
and tell them not to let your pepperoni slime run onto my half this
time. How can you stand to eat all that grease with your pizza? Yuck! I'm
kind of nervous about the match tonight. You think we have a chance at
beating the Buckeyes?"

"I don't know, but at least we'll be there together," I told her, reaching
for her hand.

"So, exactly how does being there together help us win?"

"I meant it's just a game. So as long as I get to be with you, I'll enjoy
it."

"It's a match, not a game. Do you even know what a lacrosse stick looks
like, Doofus? I mean how lame are you? This is the biggest match of the
year for us and you'd be okay if we got creamed, as long as we get to sit
together?"

"Something like that. You really think we have a chance?"

"Us, or Penn State?" she asked, almost cynically.

"Us"

She smiled, and I felt her grip tighten a bit.



Shelly and I carried on a lively conversation about classes, friends, and
family, as we walked to Romano's. I opened the door and stood to the side
thinking she would be impressed. She just pulled me along with her and
looked at me like I was being nerdy.

We ordered our pizza, half ham and pineapple, half pepperoni, and sat down
at a table to wait. The thought of eating fruit on pizza was totally
disgusting to me.



"Hey, Phillip," a voice called from behind me.

I turned and was greeted by Elijah Cohen's broad smile and outstretched
hand. It happened again – I mean my breath evaporating the moment I saw
him. God, what is going on here? I pleaded silently, not knowing why I
suddenly felt so lost for words.

"H... hey," I managed to get out before stupidly asking him "You eat
pizza?"

He looked at me like he was trying to figure out what planet I was from
before breaking into a smile. Even his eyes sparkled when he smiled. "As
long as it doesn't have pork on it," he answered as he turned away to join
the guys he had come in with.

Suddenly feeling clammy, I spun back around in my seat to face Shelly. "You
think it's hot in here?"

I saw her glance in the direction that Elijah had gone. "Not
really. Another potential boyfriend?" she asked, grinning, as she took my
hand.

"Just my tennis instructor. I don't need any boyfriends hanging around when
I've got a girlfriend like you. I like you a lot, Shelly."

It was her turn to blush.



Penn State lost the game 3-2 on a controversial goal, and we sullenly
walked back to Shelly's apartment. Looking at each other for a moment,
Shelly wrinkled her brow and asked "What?"

Even though I found Andrew's not-so-subtle displays of affection with girls
disturbing, there was one thing I saw him doing a couple of times that kind
of caught my interest. The first time it happened was when he showed up in
the room unannounced, pleading with his eyes for me to move to the student
lounge for the night. While I was grabbing my pillow and some books, I
heard this "m-m-m-m" sound, and looked to see what they were doing. I swear
it looked like he was trying to push his entire tongue into her
mouth. ...and she looked like she was really into it. After that, I noted
he did it with other dates getting the same result, so I'm guessing girls
must like it.

My heart began racing as I debated the benefit of doing it versus the
obvious, to me at least, downside. My desire to hear Shelly "m-m-m-m"
softly, because of something I was doing, eventually won out. To heck with
my hangup that we would be spreading our germs into each other's mouth, not
to mention the possibility that such behavior could lead to needing what I
had shoved into my wallet earlier in the evening.


` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `

Saturday, September 20

Dear journal,



Thoughts about today: OMG! Michelle had the same reaction Andrew's
girlfriends do when he sticks his tongue in their mouth. I almost laughed
when she did it. It made me feel so good inside knowing I was doing
something for her that she liked. I went for seconds after I saw her
smile. Thank you, Jesus, for keeping us from getting too carried away.

Honesty time: Sticking my tongue in her mouth was weird. I had no idea what
to do with it once it was there. I guess I did okay, because she did make
that "m-m-m-m" sound, but I should not have thought what I did when she
started to suck on it.

What I learned: I've got to start carrying breath mints in my pocket in
case she sprinkles garlic on her pizza again. I can still taste it.

` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` ` `