Date: Sun, 31 May 2009 16:37:23 -0400
From: J. B. August <augustartjb@gmail.com>
Subject: Impact: Chapter 4- Too Close for Comfort

Impact:
Chapter 4- Too Close for Comfort

Fun Fact: Tyler was not originally going to have such a large role in the
story, at least not until later. I had another character lined up for that
spot with a completely different personality and back story.  But I really
grew attached to Tyler's character after the first scene with him in the
Bistro, and decided to bump up his role a little.  I'm pretty glad I did at
this point.  I wonder how things would have been different in the story if
I had gone with the other character. . .

Thanks to everyone who has been sending me comments in.  I really do
appreciate it, and as anyone who sends comments in will tell you, I do
respond to them.  For those of you too shy to send in a comment, or for
those who have never sent in a comment to anyone before, give it a shot.  I
swear I don't bite.  Plus, I've been there before.  I had never once sent
anyone a comment before writing this story.  But I do like to read what you
guys think about the way things are shaping up.  Tell me what you would
like to see happen etc.

I have an editor now.  I am very glad to everyone who volunteered for the
job in the past week.  I was blown away by the number of people offering to
help.  If something falls through with my current editor, I will be
contacting one of you guys.

I'm sorry for the long delay.  Chapter 4 turned out being a lot longer than
I thought it would originally, and then there was the whole thing about
dealing with an editor for the first time.  Mostly though, I wanted to make
sure it was perfect before posting it this time.  The other chapters have
had a couple mistakes here and there.  I am striving to virtually eliminate
the mistakes.  Thanks again to all my readers, and hopefully you will enjoy
the next chapter of Impact!

P.s.  I believe this chapter might have just a taste of what you readers
are hoping for.  Tell me what you think.  Cheers, J.B.




*Beep* "Goway" *Beep* "Jusfivemoreminutes" *Beep* "Ugh."

I rolled over onto my side with an aggravated grunt and wiped the sleep
from my eyes in one long, lazy movement.  The continuing *beep* *beep*
*beep* from the clock was managing to find and aggravate every raw nerve in
my body, and I could already feel a headache coming on.  Using one arm as a
shield against the light, which threatened to blind me if I opened my eyes
too quickly, I waved the other arm blindly towards the bedside table where
I knew the clock would be.  After some fumbling around, I finally managed
to locate the button I was looking for.  The clock gave one last shrill
*beep* before I was finally rewarded for my efforts by sweet silence.

I slowly opened one eye at a time to allow them time to adjust to the light
pouring through the large double length windows in at the end of the bed.
It was still early; I knew that without even cracking an eyelid.  I usually
set my clock for 8:30 in the morning so I'd have plenty of time to get
ready for work during the week.  I had obviously forgotten to turn it off
for the weekend.

Once I was able to keep my eyes open, I let my attention wander to the
window and I watched as the sun gradually rose higher and higher into the
sky.  When we moved into this house, my bed had been placed in just the
right position to face the sunrise every morning.  In spite of the obvious
difficulties this caused on days when I wanted to sleep in, I had never
moved the bed because it was a nice to wake up to.

Even if the alarm didn't wake me, the sun did on most days.  In the many
years my mother and I had lived in this house, I had yet to put up any
curtains.  It wasn't because I was lazy exactly; it was just that during
the school year it didn't matter if I had curtains or not because I was up
so early every morning, and during the summer, I had always been more
concerned about hanging with my friends and having fun than taking on the
task of hanging curtains.  On the bright side (no pun intended), it did
keep me from sleeping until noon every day like most teenagers.

My eyes wandered from the window to the bedside table where my alarm clock
was.  I'd gotten the clock as a present when I was five.  Several years
ago, my mom had tried to throw the thing out.  She told me that a boy my
age shouldn't have such a childish toy.  I managed to dig it out of the
trash when she wasn't looking and kept it anyway.  It had too much
sentimental value, and besides, why should I throw away a perfectly good
clock just because it had pictures of the five original power rangers on
it?

The clock read 8:45, which meant two things: first, my mom was already at
work.  I had a new-found respect for her now that I had a job of my own.  I
still couldn't imagine what it would be like to have to work six days a
week.  There were some instances during the busiest parts of the year when
she even worked Sundays.  I often told her she should just tell her work
that she wasn't coming in one day.  What could they do?  She just as often
reminded me that her co-worker Nancy had gotten fired for doing exactly
that.

The time showing on the clock also meant that I had slept nearly twelve
hours.  I rarely slept that much, and I was a little surprised I hadn't
woken up earlier, considering how early I'd gone to bed.

I laid back again and closed my eyes for a moment to let my sleep-fogged
brain start to gather itself together.  I had been dreaming about something
very nice before the alarm had so rudely interrupted me, but as hard I as I
tried, I couldn't quite remember what it had been about.  My best guess was
that it had been about a boy.  I often had dreams about cute boys. I
wracked my brain trying to remember the details.  Which boy? Had it been
about Tyler maybe. . .?

 `Tyler!' I yelped sitting bolt upright in my bed.  My mind was still fuzzy
from too much sleep, and I was finding it difficult to think straight.
Questions were racing through my head at speeds that greatly exceeded the
normal speed limit of my brain, and I was having trouble keeping track and
catching up.  At the top of the list of questions was whether or not Tyler
even really existed.  Had I just dreamed him up?  I didn't think it had all
been a dream, but I also found it difficult to believe that any of last
night had actually happened.  Boys like that just didn't appear in my life.
I wasn't that lucky.

I hopped out of bed and hurried over to the window.  I let out a long sigh
of relief almost the moment I had made it to the window.  I could see the
house next door, and sure enough, sitting out front still parked in
driveway was the large yellow moving truck.  Unlike yesterday though, the
yard showed no signs of life.  There were no movers outside, there was no
April, and most depressing of all, there was no Tyler.

Now that the dam of uncertainties in my head had broken, the flood of
memories rushed back into my mind and I felt a huge grin spread across my
face.  I had met the most wonderful, adorable, perfect boy yesterday!  And
then I had found out that he was living right next door to me!  And then,
as if those two things weren't good enough, he wanted to hang out with me
again...TODAY!  Okay, I kind of tricked him into promising to come over,
but he had definitely seemed excited about it...hadn't he?

I hoped that he hadn't already knocked on the door while I was sleeping.
Maybe he had, and when I didn't answer, he had decided I didn't want to
hang with him.  I didn't know what I would do if that were the case.

I took a deep breath.  I attempted to calm my racing mind. I tried to talk
some sense into myself.  Even if he had come over earlier, which he almost
definitely had not, he would have assumed I was sleeping and would be back
later.

Unfortunately, there wasn't any room for sense in my mind because at that
moment, it was otherwise preoccupied with processing a thousand different
reasons why things could and would go wrong, if they hadn't already.  Maybe
Tyler would decide he hated me once he saw me again, or maybe he already
hated me and just wanted to be nice to me yesterday until he could get
away.  The self-doubts continued on and got more and more ridiculous by the
second.  There was some small part of me that knew I was just being stupid,
but the other, much larger and more insecure part of me that had become
completely smitten by the boy next door, stubbornly refused to listen to
reason.

I needed to do something with myself other than standing by the window in
just a pair of black boxer briefs, so I decided to catch a quick shower.
What could that hurt?  I could be in and out in five minutes if I needed
to, and even if Tyler rang the doorbell while I was showering, I was fairly
certain I could make it downstairs before he decided I wasn't home.

I turned the water on, pulled out my tooth brush, and began cleaning my
teeth at the sink while the shower warmed up.  I took a moment to admire my
reflection as I scrubbed.

I was a skinny kid.  I always had been.  It didn't matter how much I ate, I
never seemed to put on any weight.  My mom always told me I had the
metabolism of a horse or something like that.  My skin wasn't pale, but I
wasn't very tanned either.  It was still the beginning of the summer
though, and I would probably get a pretty good tan in the next few weeks if
I laid out once in a while.

My upper body was completely hairless except for the little bit that had
just started growing under my arms a couple of months ago.  I wasn't overly
muscular, and it was easy to see that I wasn't very active in sports.  I'd
always been more into the arts, like painting, drawing, and such.  Still, I
lifted weights about once a week - I didn't normally bother going more than
that because I thought it was extremely boring - and I was pretty content
with the muscles I did have.  I did notice that the beginnings of a pretty
nice six-pack were just starting to appear.

The brown, shaggy mop on my head was long enough that it was approaching my
shoulders.  It wasn't curly, but it was wavy if I didn't brush it in the
mornings, which I rarely ever did.  I was often mistaken for a skater
because of my long hair and skinny frame, but in reality I had never once
set foot on a skateboard, much less done any tricks on one.

I was also constantly told that I looked young for my age.  I suppose that
had to do with my being thin as well, but I think it was mostly my face
that gave people that impression. When people met me for the first time,
they would often guess me to be around fourteen or fifteen.  I pretended
that it bothered me, but I actually liked looking younger than I was.  The
thing about it that really did bother me was that the faculty and the other
students at school constantly mistook me for a freshman.  The really sad
part was that I would be a senior in the upcoming school year.  Maybe my
new standing in the social hierarchy of high school would help people
remember who I was next school year.

Steam had begun to fog up the mirror by the time I was finished brushing my
teeth.  I put my toothbrush back in the holder, slipped off my boxer briefs
and jumped under the jet of water.  The liquid beating on my back was hot
enough to sting a bit, but I liked my showers hot; it helped me wake up in
the morning.

Ten minutes later I was downstairs in the kitchen, dressed and ready for
Tyler's arrival.  I grabbed a bowl of cheerios, a banana, and a glass of OJ
before sitting down to enjoy my breakfast.  After taking only a few bites
of my cereal, I realized that I wouldn't be able to finish it all.  My
stomach felt like it was turning somersaults in my throat, which made it
hard to swallow anything.  Now I understood what people meant when they
talked about having butterflies in your stomach.  When I burped, I half
expected one to flutter out of my mouth.  I settled for shoving down half
the bowl of cereal before dumping the rest in the sink.  I drank the rest
of the juice and returned the unpeeled banana to the basket in the middle
of the kitchen island.

I couldn't wait for Tyler to ring the door bell.  I had finally managed to
convince myself with reasonable certainty that he really was going to come
over, but the waiting was killing me.  I was excited, nervous, elated,
worried, jumpy, and eager to see him all at the same time.  I decided to
park myself in front of the TV to pass the time until he came.  I settled
on Nickelodeon, which was running a Sponge Bob marathon.  I still loved
cartoons, and I normally enjoyed the show a lot, but it barely held my
attention at that moment.

 I jumped at every noise, ready to run to the door if it was Tyler.  I even
put the phone next to me on the couch so I would be able to reach it in
case he called.  It didn't matter that I hadn't given him my number; better
safe than sorry!  No call came from the boy next door, although I did get a
call from my mom at one point asking how my day had gone yesterday and
inquiring about the new neighbors.

My mom wasn't a big phone talker, but she made a point of calling me every
day if she didn't get to see me.  She barely seemed interested in Tyler,
which really annoyed me for some reason.  She was very interested in April
though; my mom thought she might have seen her in magazines before.  The
conversation ended with the normal goodbyes and I-love-yous, along with the
promise that she would be home by 5:00 PM at the latest.

I considered going over to Tyler's house, but I didn't want to look
desperate.  I could have gone over and offered to help out a little with
moving stuff again, but what if April didn't want my help and turned me
away?  Or worse still, what if she *did* want my help and I was stuck there
all day?

I stayed on the couch for more than 3 hours, Sponge Bob serving as my lone
companion in misery. My hopes were growing thinner by the second.  If Tyler
had planned on visiting, he would have already been here.  Sponge Bob was
beginning to get on my nerves, but I couldn't even find the energy to pick
up the remote and change the channel; I was too depressed.  Every time he
let out that annoying high pitched laugh, I felt like he was laughing at
me.  It was like the beeping of the alarm clock all over again, except
worse.  The television seemed to know how stupid I was.

By 12:20, I had pretty much conceded that Tyler probably wasn't going to
show up.  Suddenly, I heard what sounded like a faint knock at the front
door.  I thought I was just hearing things at first, and I couldn't bring
myself to get up only to find that nobody was there.  A few moments later
though, I heard another soft rapping noise come from the entryway.  I
jumped from my spot on the couch faster than if I had just been shot from a
gun and practically danced over to the front door.

Through the glass panes at the side of the door, I saw the smiling,
slightly nervous-looking face of the most adorable boy in the entire world.
I felt my heart melt all over again.  He was here!  He had actually come
over!

I pawed frantically at my hair, trying to fix the damage that had been done
to it by laying against the couch while it was still wet.  I was quickly
running out of time though, so I would just have to leave it as it was.  My
hand was shaking with barely contained excitement when I slowly opened the
door.

Tyler stood on the porch beaming up at me.  He wore a light pink,
Hawaiian-style flowered shirt, a pair of white shorts cargo shorts that
came just above his knees, and a pair of brown flip-flops.  The top two
buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing just enough of the skin on his
chest to make my mind wander momentarily back to what I had seen in his
room the other day.  In his left hand he held a black bag containing who
knew what.

"You gonna invite me in, or do you want a little more time to look me over
first.  I mean, I can wait."  To emphasize his statement, he began
whistling and shuffling his feet back and forth in a comical manner.

I nearly choked on my tongue at his words. I tried to say something,
anything, but managed instead to only cough and splutter like a madman. I
don't think I had ever been more embarrassed in my entire life.  I'd been
caught... he had noticed me checking him out!  I could feel the skin on my
face boiling with the heat of a rising blush, and even worse, I knew that
he could see it.

No, wait...that wasn't it, I tried to reassure myself.  He had only said
that because I had taken too long to invite him in.  I didn't waste any
more time moving out of the way for him to pass.  I didn't even try to say
anything else.  I didn't trust that anything I could say would come out
correctly if I tried.  I just showed him in by extending my hand.

Tyler stepped through the opening and shut the door behind him.  When I
still didn't say anything, he looked concerned.

"Do you not want me here or something?" he asked.  "I can leave...I just
thought..."  I could hear the disappointment and sadness in his voice, and
it broke my heart.

"NO!" I blurted out, perhaps a little too loudly, "I mean, of course I want
you to...that is...I just didn't think you were coming is all."

Tyler looked confused, "I promised that I was coming over, remember?"

"Yeah," I muttered.  I looked down at the floor feeling a little ashamed.
I had made him promise as much.  Was that the reason he was over here, so I
wouldn't tell his mom about all the pop he drank?  "Uh, you know I was just
kidding about telling your mom right?  I wouldn't do that. If the only
reason you're over here is because -"

 "Shaye...puh-leeze," he said as he moved his free hand to his hip, "I'm
not like, eight, you know.  I knew you weren't going to tell my mom."  He
looked so cute in that position, like he was posing for a picture.

I stared at him dumbly.  "You knew?" I said.  I realized only after I had
spoken that I had been completely obvious in betraying my surprise.  I
worked to keep my voice as casual and non-threatening as possible this time
as I joked with him a little, attempting to regain command of the situation
again. "I mean, how do you know I still won't tell her?"

Tyler wasted no time in answering. "Because you're my friend, and friends
don't tell on each other," he said simply.

I felt a wave of happiness more powerful than anything I had felt in a long
time rush over me.  I was his friend!  He had actually called me his
friend!  I didn't deserve this, I didn't deserve Tyler.  He was so...so
everything.  There just weren't enough words in the dictionary to describe
how perfect this boy really was.  I managed to hold back my excitement,
covering my emotions up with an exaggerated rolling of my eyes and a huge
fake sigh.

"Fine, you win.  I wasn't going to tell her," I said.  I reached over to
take the bag from him so I could put it away like a good host, but he
flinched back as if I had tried to hit him.

 "I'm sorry," I said and immediately pulled my hand back.

"I just want to carry my own bag is all," he replied immediately.  He
seemed a little defensive, and I didn't know whether or not to believe him.
Before I had fully decided to ask him about it though, he spoke up
again. "So what are we going to do today, anyway?"

"Whatever you want!" I said as I began walking through the hallway and into
the kitchen.  I glanced back to make sure that Tyler was following me.
"But first, I'm starving.  I haven't eaten anything since breakfast.  You
want something?"  I made my way to the pantry and pulled out a box of
uncooked spaghetti.

"Um...that's okay.  I don't wanna eat your food or anything.  Plus, I'm not
really very hungry."

"Tyler, you don't have to worry about eating our food.  We have plenty, I
promise.  I was going to make a whole bunch of noodles anyway."

"Well I guess if you have extra then..." He was so charming and so
considerate. He didn't want to eat because he thought it would be rude.

"Good.  Now, do you like sauce on your spaghetti?"

 "Mm-hmm," he said, nodding his head as he moved to sit on one of the
stools by the island.

"Can you put that bag down?" I asked.  "I'm starting to think you're
carrying a gun in there or something."

Tyler laughed heartily at that, but he *did* put the bag down.  I loved
that laugh.  As if on cue, I heard Sponge Bob laughing on the television
from the other room.  Tyler looked at me, turned his head towards the room
from which he had heard Sponge Bob, and then began to laugh even harder.  I
couldn't help but join him.

"It's a towel," he said after we had calmed down.

"Huh?" I replied stupidly, not quite catching on to what he meant.

"A towel.  That's what's in the bag.  It's a towel."

 "What did you bring a -" I started to say, and I immediately felt like an
idiot.  He brought a towel with him because he wanted to go swimming.  I
was actually going to get to see this wonderful, amazing boy in a bathing
suit.  It had been a passing dream yesterday; I never thought he would
actually come over here to swim - well, not this soon, anyway!  I wondered
what he was planning to wear for swimming, and more importantly, where he
was planning on changing.

From my position next to the pantry, I could see his feet dangling a few
inches above the ground.  He wasn't quite tall enough to sit on the stool
and touch the floor at the same time.  I had never been a foot person,
meaning I didn't obsess over feet.  I didn't even think they were all that
attractive; in fact, most people's feet just grossed me out.  But after
sneaking a peek at Tyler's feet, I could sort of understand how someone
might think feet were attractive, maybe.  Tyler had the cutest little feet
I had ever seen, hands down.

"You did say I could swim whenever I wanted, right?" he asked shyly.

"Well..." I said after a moment, realizing that he probably wanted an
answer. "I don't have a problem with it.  As long as you ask your mom, I
mean."

 "I already did," he replied quickly. "She almost didn't let me.  Didn't
even want me coming over here again today.  She said I was bothering you.
I told her you asked me to come over, but she didn't believe me.  I kept
pestering her though, so she finally said okay.  That's kinda why I was so
late.  I was up at like 7:00, but she made me wait."

Well, that explained things.  At least now I knew he wasn't late because he
didn't want to see me.  In fact, judging by what he'd just said, he wanted
to come over as soon as he woke up.  A smile spread over my face despite my
best efforts to hide it.  Tyler, ever the observant little detective,
picked up on it immediately.

"What's so funny?" he asked with just the slightest hint of a whine
entering his voice.

"Nothing," I replied hastily.  "Of course you can swim.  Just let me get
some noodles on the stove real quick, and we can go out together."

"Sweet!" Tyler exclaimed as he jumped down from his chair and hopped over
to my side.  "Can I help out a little?  I've never cooked pasta before."

 "You've never cooked pasta before?" I asked in surprise.  "Not even
Easy-Mac or anything?"

"That doesn't count," he giggled.  "Easy-Mac is...well...you just heat it
up in the microwave, so it's not really cooking."

"I guess you're right," I conceded with a smile at his logic. "Well,
pasta's pretty easy too.  All you have to do is..."



Ten minutes later we had a pot full of water boiling on the stove and about
half a package of spaghetti noodles fully submerged in it.  Tyler had done
most of the work filling the pot with water, turning on the stove, and
pouring the pasta in.  I didn't have any objections.  It wasn't like he
could mess it up; it was only pasta, after all.  I did stand over his
shoulder the whole time to make sure nothing serious went wrong, though.

Tyler seemed to be having a blast.  He told me that he had not only never
cooked pasta, but he had never made or even helped make anything that
wasn't cooked in a microwave or toaster.  I couldn't believe it.  I had
been cooking since I was nine at the oldest.  My mom was a very loving
person, but she rarely had the time or energy to cook once she got home
from work.  I learned at a very young age that if I wanted a home-cooked
meal, I had to make it myself.  The internet is a wonderful thing, and with
only a little effort, I soon learned the best places to find good recipes.
I eagerly learned to make all kinds of meals; it was another outlet for my
more artsy side.  My mom was pleased about it too, since I cooked a lot of
meals for both of us.

While Tyler and I were cooking, I also learned that up until now, he had
always had a nanny to take care of him after school and during the summer.

"So someone other than your parents took care of you all the time?" I
asked.  I didn't fully believe him.  Of all the pompous, stuck up
individuals I had met at school, I had not known very many who had actually
had a full-time nanny until they were eleven.  Far be it from me to judge a
family for hiring a nanny, but it made me kind of sad that Tyler's parents
had been too busy to take care of him when he was young.

"My whole life," he said simply, flashing his perfect smile my way.

 "Doesn't that bother you?" I asked as I reached into the cupboard for the
jar of pasta sauce.

He looked genuinely confused.  "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean...to be forced to spend time with someone who isn't your family," I
said.  "I dunno, it would just bother me is all."

Tyler seemed to consider that for a moment.  I found the jar I was looking
for and moved over to the stove again.  Tyler was frowning up at me, his
brow furrowed in a way that almost made me want to laugh.  He was
absolutely adorable, and what was so great about it was that he had
absolutely no idea how cute he was.

"So, does that mean you don't wanna hang out or something?" he asked
suddenly.

I stumbled over my own feet and nearly dropped the jar on the floor. I
grabbed the edge of the counter for support and turned to look at Tyler.
His face was impossible to read; emotionless and stony.  He was in
detective mode, and I was on trial again.  I was beginning to feel that
Tyler might be a little too observant for his own good.  I reminded myself
again that I needed to watch what I said around him.

"Is that what I said?" I asked him gently.

"No, but you said yesterday that you came over to help out because your mom
asked you to, right?" he asked.  "How do I know that she didn't ask you to
take me out to eat and be my friend, too?"

I couldn't believe he was serious.  I didn't understand why he was so
defensive, so ready to believe that I was out to hurt him.  Even at such a
humorless moment, I couldn't help but notice how sexy his voice was and how
unbelievably attractive he was.  His occasional bouts of being overly
serious only gave new dimensions to his personality.  He was observant as
hell, and extremely intelligent.  Not trying to toot my own horn or
anything, but he reminded me a lot of myself when I was a little younger.

"Tyler..." I began in a hurt voice.  "That's not it at all.  I'm sorry, I
didn't mean that I didn't want to spend time with you.  If I didn't want
you around, I wouldn't have invited you over.  I like hanging with you
little man, and I mean it."

He weighed my words without speaking.  I didn't know what to do.  Just
standing there felt so awkward, but I didn't want to turn away either.  He
finally smiled, and I knew everything would be okay again.

"Don't call me `little man'," he said, shoving me lightly on my shoulder.

"Ooooohhh...now you're gonna get it!" I exclaimed.

I dug my fingers into his side just below his ribs before he had time to
react.  There was a moment when I first made contact that I thought he
might be mad at me for tickling him, but by then it was too late to stop
myself.  His big blue eyes flew open wide in shock, and then he burst out
in fit after fit of screaming giggles.  He squirmed away from me and took
off running for the living room.  I chased him around the house for a few
minutes before eventually pinning him on the couch and tickling him until
he screamed "uncle".

I was slightly out of breath, so I released him and fell back onto the
couch with my arm lying across the back.  Tyler fell in next to me and
rolled up under my arm, panting for air.

"Not...fair..." he wheezed.

"Well, it's not my fault you're so ticklish...little man."

That got the intended rise out of him.  He shoved his elbow into my side in
retaliation.  It wasn't hard enough to hurt me, but I acted like it was.
When he leaned closer to me because he thought I was hurt, I grabbed him,
dragged him over to the couch again, and began tickling.

He didn't give up nearly so easily this time, and we continued to
play-fight for several minutes.  I let him get the best of me a couple
times to let him think he had a fighting chance, but I was pretty ticklish
myself, so when he started jabbing his own fingers in my side I decided to
end it.  I took a leap that I wasn't entirely certain I should take and let
my hand wander down the inside of one of his thighs, squeezing my fingers
in and out as I went.  Tyler shrieked loudly and began laughing harder than
ever.

"Uncle! Uncle! UNCLE!" he gasped.  By the time he said that, he was
laughing so hard that I had already stopped for fear that he might
suffocate.  My left hand was still lying on the inside of his thigh while
my right arm was wrapped around his middle with that hand resting on his
back.  I could feel the silky fabric of his shorts and the thin material of
his boxers underneath them.  My hand was right there, so close to the young
member of the boy of my dreams.  It would have been so easy, so very easy,
for me to move my finger just an inch upwards...just one inch.  What would
he say if I did?  How would he respond?

As Tyler's breathing began to slow down, I could feel mine speeding up.
No, I needed to stop this.  This was wrong.  I couldn't take advantage of
him like that.  It would be totally breaking the trust he had so willingly
given me, the trust that his mother said he NEVER gave to anyone else.
No...I couldn't do that to him.

I felt sick with shame.  Sick that I wanted so badly to touch him like
that.  He was so young, just a boy, after all.  Society said it was wrong,
and they were right.  I had to tame my feelings, to hold them back and
control them.  I couldn't subject Tyler to something that would hurt him,
something he wasn't ready for.  For god's sake, I had only met the boy
yesterday, and here I was ready to jump down his pants.

A minute must have passed, and neither of us moved a centimeter. Tyler
stared directly into my eyes, and I stared back.  Even as I was trying to
build up walls to defend against what he was doing to me, I could feel them
crumbling to dust.  I simply couldn't resist those bright orbs, those
lively and intelligent eyes that were the lightest, most beautiful blue I
had ever seen.  We were lying together on the couch only inches apart now.
We were so close that I could feel his breath on my cheek, smell the scent
of fresh cleanliness on his skin, count the freckles on his nose.  I wanted
so badly to just lean in, to close those last couple inches of distance.  I
held back.

Tyler never broke eye contact.  He bit his lip in that way that drove me
absolutely crazy.  I had to get myself out of this now before it was too
late.  I was losing the battle, losing control of my emotions, losing
control of myself.  Abruptly, he spoke in a low, husky voice just above a
whisper, a voice that I loved so much.

 "You know, you might want to move your hand off my leg.  I think I'm
beginning to like it." Slowly, deliberately, Tyler pressed his small hips
further into my hand, gradually pushing his small body into mine.

My heart had stopped cold, I was certain of it.  I couldn't breathe, much
less move.  Had he just said what I thought he had said?  Had he just done
what I thought he had done?  He stared intently into my eyes and bit his
lower lip once more.  He had pushed up so close to me now that I could feel
the crease where his thigh and little prick met.

Tyler moaned softly, wrapping his arm around my neck and pulling me in even
closer. My face was so close to his that I could almost taste his lips.  I
closed my eyes in preparation for what I knew was coming, in preparation
for the kiss, letting him lead the way.  Suddenly, without even the
slightest warning, Tyler began to laugh.  Not a giggle, not a chuckle, but
a big belly laugh that shook both of our bodies.  I opened my eyes and
stared, dumbfounded. It was the one time when I wasn't driven to chuckles
of my own by his laughter.  I was at a loss.  What was going on? What was
so funny?

Tyler pulled away and sat up next to me.  I mimicked his movement and
pulled away as well.  I wasn't sure what had just happened.  Every time he
looked like he was going to be able to speak, he would turn my way and
start laughing all over again.  Tears began to appear in the corners of his
eyes from laughing so much.

I could feel my own tears beginning to gather, but for an entirely
different reason.  I was hurt.  He was laughing at me.  Laughing and
laughing, and I didn't know why.  I didn't even know what had just
happened.  I blinked my tears away before they could fully form.  Letting
him see me like that wasn't likely to help the situation, even if I was
able to figure out what the situation was.

 "I'm sorry...I'm really sorry," he wheezed after he was able to calm down
a notch, "but you should have seen your face.  I was just kidding around.
I couldn't help it. I didn't think I would get such a rise out of you."

He giggled some more, apparently ready for me to join in on the laughter at
the trick he had pulled.  I had so many thoughts and feelings going through
my head at that moment, I didn't know what to do.  I smiled for his benefit
though.  He had just been making a joke to lighten the mood.  After all, it
must have been awkward for him with me laying there for so long with my
hand on his thigh.  But Jesus, he had almost given me a heart attack, and I
was only 17.  I thought for a moment that he really wanted to...that he
really wanted me to...

I did manage to laugh a little, but it sounded forced, even to me.  I stood
up suddenly to try to divert as much attention from what had just happened
as possible.  I didn't want to think about it.  Not now, not with him
there.  I had been so close to doing it, so close to kissing him.  I had
thought he wanted it, was sure he wanted it, but it had all just been a
game to him.  What would he have done if I had actually kissed him?  If I
had done more?  Would he had left?  Would he have told his mom?  I
seriously needed to cool off.

 "You about ready to jump in the pool?" I asked him.

It seemed to work better than I expected.  Less than a second after the
question was out of my mouth, Tyler was up at my side.

"Yeah!" he said excitedly. "Come on, let's go out there now."

"Don't you have to change or something?" I asked as I slowly gathered my
wits about me once more.  Visions of what had just happened were still
racing in through my mind.  I would likely have trouble sleeping tonight.

He suddenly looked deflated.  "Aww, crap!  I forgot to bring my bathing
suit!"

Aww, crap indeed.  That meant he would have to go back home to get his
bathing suit, which then meant that he would probably be changing into his
bathing suit there.  Well, I could still get lucky.  He might bring his
clothes back here so he could put them on after he was done swimming...

No!  I had to stop those kinds of thoughts before they got me into trouble.
Why did I care where he changed?  I doubted I would get to watch anyway.  I
didn't think Tyler was the kind of kid who would strip in front of someone
he had just met the day before.  It shouldn't matter to me whether he
changed into his swim suit at home.

But it did matter.  It was just the thought, the idea of him being naked in
my house, even for just a minute, even if I didn't get to see it.

 "Well, you can head back over to your house to get it real quick if you
want, the pool isn't going anywhere."  I secretly hoped he would bring his
bathing suit back here to change.  I would wait just in case and then offer
to change in the same room as him.

Tyler surprised me again though with his response.  He almost gave me
another heart attack, actually.  "I'll just swim in my boxers," he said
nonchalantly. "You don't mind do you?"

Did I mind?  That was like me asking him if he minded me buying him a brand
new Nintendo Wii.  I didn't think I would have minded anything less,
unless, of course, he had asked if I minded him skinny dipping.

"Well, no..."

I was already blushing at the mere thought of Tyler stripping off his
shorts in front of me.  Man, I needed to find a way to slow down my
hormones!  I needed a little time alone, just a minute, to calm down.  I
would also have to find a way to hide certain areas of my body until I was
in the pool or there might be problems.

I headed upstairs under the pretense of going to change into my bathing
suit.  I was secretly hoping Tyler might follow me to my room, but he
didn't.  That was probably a good thing; I don't think I could have kept
certain parts of my anatomy in a resting state if he had.  One thing was
for certain, this had already been quite possibly the craziest day of my
life, and it wasn't even 1:00 in the afternoon yet.