Date: Mon, 30 Apr 2012 13:48:37 -0700 (PDT)
From: Tyler Adams <tyleradamsbooks@yahoo.com>
Subject: Almost Straight ch 7

"Johnson," I said to the hostess who was standing just inside the door.

She checked her reservation list, smiled, and told us to follow her.

I crooked my arm at my side. Shelly linked hers around it, and laid her
head on my shoulder.

"I can't believe we're gonna get to eat in this place. You are not only a
scholar, Phillip Johnson, but a gentleman too. You're just too sweet
sometimes."

I glanced around the room; proud to be seen with such a beautiful woman at
my side.  Seeing an elderly lady jabbing her elbow at the man beside her
and nodding in our direction, we both broke into a grin. He winked at her,
then turned and smiled at us. "Remember when..." I heard as we made our way
past.



I know I had gotten hung up over the fact that Shelly needed so much time
to get ready, but in reality, even wearing jeans she looked like a beauty
queen. I have to admit I don't usually notice girls in general, and in
particular, not their clothing, but Shelly made those jeans look like a
million bucks worth of fabric.

After a lot of small talk about school and family, I finally got up the
nerve to ask her what I had been planning since last night.

"So," I began nervously. "Does your family make big plans for the
holidays?"

"Usually just gram and gramps for Christmas dinner. Pretty boring,
actually. How `bout yours? Does your family do anything exciting?"

"Other than spending a day picking out a Christmas tree and decorating it
while watching `It's a Wonderful Life,' nothing spectacular."

"Ah-h-h. That sounds quaint."

"Ah, really? `Cause I was kind of wondering if you'd want to spend the
holidays with us this year. ...you know ...kind of get to meet my family?"

"You're not serious, Phillip," she stammered, looking as out of sorts as
I've ever seen her. "You want me to like meet your parents and stuff?"

"It'd be lots of fun. The town always goes all out with Christmas
decorations, and there're lots of knick-knack shops downtown to wander
though."

"You spend your Christmas break wandering through knick-knack shops?" she
asked with a strange expression on her face.

"N-not really. I just thought if you liked to do that kind of stuff I'd be
willing to do it with you."

"Well, it sounds kind of interesting, but where would I stay?"

"I'll sleep in my little brother's room, and you could stay in mine."

"And sleep in your bed? That might be a little weird. What if your parents
don't like me? I mean they've never even met me."

"Well, actually, I kind of talked about you this past summer when I was
home. Mom said she wasn't even surprised when I asked if I could invite
you."

"You asked her already? Ah-h-h, that's sweet," she cooed as she reached
across the table and took my hand. "I don't know, though, it's... I don't
know. ...don't you think this is kind of sudden? I mean we haven't even
really been dating that long."

"Well, w-what makes a date official? I mean we've been hanging out together
since freshman year. That's kind of like dating isn't it?"

"Not really. I mean we were just kind of good friends. I wasn't even sure
you were interested in anything else until a few weeks ago when you tried
to suck the lips off of my face," she giggled.

"So I'm slow. Give me a break. At least I didn't try to get you into bed
first like Andrew and a few other guys I know would have."

"True. But actually," she countered with a sly leer, "since you brought up
the subject..."

A wave of terror nearly knocked me off my chair as I recalled Andrew's
parting words of wisdom to me. It's funny how pressure can take your mind
in the absolute opposite direction you want it to go. Before she even said
another word, I was worrying not about the morality of climbing into bed
with her, but about whether or not the small plastic packet that Andrew had
given me was still in my wallet.

"...Remember when I asked you if you ever considered that you might have a
gay side to you? That's kind of what I wanted to ask you about tonight. I
mean, I heard that some guys experiment with each other, and I was kind of
curious if..."

Her eyes were searching mine like she was trying to see if I had done
something like that without me having to tell her with my mouth. "When I
saw how your tennis instructor was looking at you the other week," she
continued, "I guess it kind of freaked me out to think he might be hitting
on you, and that guys might actually do that stuff."

Time seemed to stop dead. I know she continued talking, but I couldn't
discern what she said after that. I also know I wasn't able to move a
muscle, and only hoped my facial expressions weren't telling her something
that I didn't want them to say.

"Oh my god. I'm sorry, Phillip," she said after an awkward pause. "I
didn't..." She broke her words off mid-sentence, then looking around the
rustic dining room, added "This is really nice, Phillip. Thank you so
much. It's almost like I'm dreaming it or something."

I slowly began to come out of my time warp, and was now aware of how my
stomach was forcing my pounding heart higher into my chest; constricting my
airway and throat. She seemed to be staring at my ears, and I just knew she
had figured out that I had done, exactly, what she couldn't imagine two
guys ever doing. I opened my mouth to say – I don't know what, but
fortunately, nothing but a squeaking sound came out.

I leaned over the side of my chair and coughed, trying desperately to clear
my throat, restore my breathing, and buy a little time to think what to
say.

"Not really," I finally managed to get out, "when did you ask that?"

"Ask what? About if you ever thought that you could have a gay side? A
couple of weeks ago, I guess. You remember. We went to the Student Center
to see that movie. ...oh, what was it? Anyway, I kind of thought you and
your tennis instructor where checking each other out. Then, when you knew
what he was wearing, and you didn't know the color of the shirt that I was
wearing, I asked if you ever thought that maybe there was a little bit of a
gay side hiding inside there somewhere. Gay guys are really into clothing
you know, and I know how much you like to shop for clothes."

She was so casual about it that I'm not sure she comprehended the panic her
question brought to my mind. She kept looking at me like she couldn't
figure something out.

"How can you even ask that, Shelly? We're both committed Christians. God
doesn't make people gay; he redeems them from that curse."

"Don't get so excited. I wasn't trying to say that I thought you did. I was
just curious if you – if guys – really did things like that.

"Oh, and by the way," she casually tossed into the conversation, "your ears
are kind of turning red, if that means anything – which I'm sure it
doesn't."

I could feel the tips of my ears were burning, and wondered what Shelly was
really thinking as she starred at them.

When she looked back at my eyes, she had a teasing grin on her face like
she wasn't serious, but I still felt like crying. Why did I ever think
taking Michelle Dade out someplace special was a good idea? This whole
weekend was turning into a disaster.

"I'm sorry, Phillip. I shouldn't have brought up the subject –
especially not tonight. I just never thought you'd react like this. I feel
awful that I even asked you."

"I have to use the men's room," was about the only rational thing I could
think to say at the moment.

"Phil," she pleaded as I stood up. "Please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean..."





My step-father, Ed had told me on more than one occasion that honesty in
all things is essential to any healthy relationship. Standing in front of
the mirror in the men's room, I realized just how difficult that could
be. Without complete honesty about my past, and yes, about my current
struggle, there would be no happy home with a Mrs. Michelle Johnson. I
splashed cold water on my face, and after drying it and my hands, nervously
headed back to our table.

"Shelly, do you mind if we skip dessert?" I asked timidly. "There're some
things about my past I think you need to know about. I'd kind of like to
find a more private place for that."

Half standing, she leaned across the table and kissed me on the lips, then
paused to look into my eyes. I could see she was every bit as upset about
what had happened as I was.

After I seated her in the car, and climbed in myself, she squeezed her soft
body against mine.

"Phil, about what I asked you. I didn't mean..."

"Shhhhh. God meant for it to happen, Michelle. I love you so much I want to
tell you about some things from my past that may be hard for you to
understand."

Michelle looked worried.

My gentle kiss to her cheek broke some of the tension.

"They're hard for me to understand too, Michelle."