I got my driver's license about four months ago and Jesse kept on saying, “You’ll crash one day, you know?” which angered me. I asked him if he wanted me dead, but he said nothing. He merely gave me a grave look and shrugged. What an excellent older brother.

My father told me to find a girlfriend of some sort. He didn’t care if she slept with twenty guys or none. He wanted me to hook up with someone and have a “committed relationship”, whatever that meant. Honestly, it was probably because he was worried that I’ll “turn out like Jesse”.

It was summer and I was invited to a party. I knew the host, but I didn’t know him personally. I went anyway, but I couldn't help but feel nervous about how the party might be.

Arriving at the house, I noticed multiple cars parked in the driveway and road. There were streamers, broken bottles, and cigarette ends littering the ground. My stomach was spinning uneasily as I got out of my car, walking to the front door. The moment I knocked, the door swung open to reveal the host, Grayson Rodgers. His glasses were lopsided, and he was holding a plastic red cup, dark red liquid inside. The dude was already hammered. There was no way that he wasn’t.

“JOEY!” Grayson greeted me, giving me a sideways hug. “Come in, man! Want a drink?” He thrusted the cup in my direction.

“I’m good,” I said, dismissing it. I pulled away from Grayson.

He said, “So! Chillax and have some fun, ‘kay? Hook up, gal or guy. No one cares! Ha-ha! Find a room, or a drink, and have fun. Fun. Right?” Grayson's blue eyes gleamed behind his glasses. How much did he drink?

“Sure...fun...” I doubted I was going to have “fun”.

Wandering with my heart hammering against my ribs, I tried to make myself invisible behind the shadows, my ears thundering from the pounding music. I recognized the song: “DJ Got Us Falling in Love Again” by Usher and Pitbull.

Many kids I recognized from school but there were a handful I didn’t know. They looked like seniors or something. Maybe kids from the neighborhood?

People were swaying and singing and laughing. It was getting stuffy and the feeling of claustrophobia came creeping behind me. I decided to head on back, wanting to catch some breeze outside. Once I got to the back, I sighed in relief, shaking my hands out.

“Have you ever been to a party before?” asked a soft voice.

I whirled around. It was Darrin Meyer. A kid who was in several of my classes. He had a charming smile as he waited for my answer.

“Um... no. Overprotective parents.” It was true, ever since Jesse screwed it up when he was seventeen.

“Well, it doesn’t seem like you’re enjoying it, huh?” Darrin said lightly, his heterochromia eyes gleaming. He always had beautiful eyes: his left eye was blue and the right one was hazel. It seemed as if he was a husky. Or an Alaskan Malamute.

“Yeah...it’s overwhelming inside. Why’re you out here?” My heart was pulsing wildly against my chest, my head buzzing with mixed emotions. Fear. Excitement. Uneasiness. Hope. Weird things. Things I couldn’t explain.

“Escaping an ex.” Darrin said, laughter in his eyes. He drummed the railing, lips drawn into a line. “Also, yeah, it’s overwhelming.” He pulled away and faced me. “You want something to drink?” he inclined with his head to two beer bottles laying against the wall.

I should have said no.

I nodded and Darrin gave me the bottle. “Ever drank?” He inquired, those dashing heterochromia eyes flashing. His eyes were searching, roving over my body. I didn’t understand, didn’t know where this was going.

“No...” I stared at the liquid inside, the color dark. It looked like oil.

“Then take it easy...” Darrin said as he tipped the bottle, drinking. He stopped drinking and said, “Try. It doesn’t taste bad.”

It tasted like I was inhaling fire and ash and oil. It tasted disgusting. The second swig tasted like bitter apple. The third swig tasted like a sweet fruit, long forgotten. My blood boiled as I drained it, panting, my body quivering with a new excitement.

“Whoa, whoa, Joey, slow down,” Darrin said, laughing. He placed a hand on my chest, saying, “You’ll get yourself killed if you drink that fast.” He laughed, an easy grin on his lips.

“I want more,” I said and more I got.

By the third bottle, I lost sense of where I was, why I was here, who I was flirting with, and everything was going up, up, up, up. I was not going to come down for a while.

So, this is how it feels to be high, I thought giddily. I glanced at Darrin who was giggling, clearly high like me.

“Sooo,” I said, “whom must the ex be you are runnin’ from?"

“Calvin. He's an asshole. Wants to get back together but I’m like, fuck that idea.” Darrin grinned, resting his chin on his fist, his elbow propped atop the railing.

“You’re gay?” I wasn’t thinking straight. I felt like my head was in a bubble, everything muffled except Darrin’s voice.

“Yeah, actually. What ’bout you, Jo?” Darrin stood as straight as he could manage, but then decided to lean close to me.

“Dunno.” What do you mean, you don’t know?

He nodded slowly. “Kissed anyone before?” He canted his head to the left.

“Uh, yeah. This girl named Amy.” I gave him a teasing smile.

“Did you like it?” Darrin said, eyes wide. He looked impressed. Probably because he didn’t imagine me kissing someone. But I did. It was a dare. I was fourteen.

“Uh, I believe so.” I was against the house now, Darrin’s hands beside my shoulders, flat against the wall.

“You kissed a boy before?” Darrin whispered.

…

…

“N-no.” My breath latched.

“Can…can I kiss you?” Darrin murmured, his hand on my hip, the heat bleeding through the thin fabric.

I barely nodded but that was all he needed.

His lips were against mine, his hips digging into mine, his fingers knotting themselves in my hair. I shoved my hands into his soft golden hair, my lips moving with his. I felt his tongue heavy against mine, the taste of the beer sickeningly sweet. I was devouring this boy, unsure of who I was, wondering what I was doing. I traced his lovely skin, so white. Like snow. His body felt hot and alive, so alive against mine. My mind was a yo-yo, springing with questions that I didn’t know the answer to.

Darrin tugged me close to him, his hand cupping my chin. I was wondering if I could ever be closer to him, this lovely, sweet boy. I brushed my thumb against his cheek, and he seemed to like that. His fingers were busy undoing my jacket. Once he took off my jacket, threw it to the ground. His fingers stroked my face and my hair, and I knew that I was falling, falling too fast for this boy.

FLASHBACK.

When I saw him for the first time in sixth grade, looking so cute and smug.

FLASHBACK.

When I saw him looking frustrated taking a math test in seventh grade.

FLASHBACK.

When I saw him grinning at me, playing with my heart in eighth grade.

FLASHBACK.

When I saw him holding hands with another boy, breaking my heart in ninth grade.

FLASHBACK.

When I saw him kissing a boy in tenth grade, I began to question myself, wondering if I liked him or not.

NOW.

As an almost eleven grader, his lips against mine, I wondered, Do I like you, Darrin Meyer, a boy? When my heart pounded and my breathing got uneven, was that because I had a crush on you? I don’t like boys, though. When I see a picture of cute boys, they don’t do anything to me. When I see sketches of boys without clothing, I don’t react. When I see two boys kissing, I become uncomfortable, wondering how you can have an attraction to the same sex. But you... you’re different. You make my pulse race, you make my heart drop, you make me smile and laugh and hope. But do I like you? I know I like girls because seeing pictures of cute girls makes me grin, seeing sketches of girls without clothing gets my pulse racing, and seeing a girl and a boy kiss makes me hope that I can have a girlfriend. So, who are you, to make me feel this way? Who?

A fucking angel. Laughable, yeah. But wow, I don’t know.

Darrin pulled away, and I missed the heat radiating off his body. He looked dazed and then a grin crept on his lips.

“How was that?” Darrin questioned me, his husky-dog eyes wide.

“You kiss good. For a boy,” I teased him, trying to keep my tone light but my heart and mind were screaming, I KISSED A BOY AND I LOVED IT.

Darrin bumped his hip against mine, throwing me a lovely smile. “Do you still have my number from three years ago?”

“Yeah,” I told him, showing him my phone.

“Good. Want to go out? Saturday?” Darrin suggested. “That is, if you’re free.”

“Of course!” I blurted out and he clasped his hands in mine.

When Saturday arrived, he stood me up. I called him, texted him, even emailed him, wondering why he hadn’t arrived.

Other plans, was his text.

He didn’t say sorry.

When I spotted him at a park, I cornered him, and snapped, “No sorry? You stood me up! You could have texted a sorry or said beforehand that you had other plans...” My voice shook with rage.

Darrin blinked. “Oh? Well, sorry.” He didn’t seem to mean it.

“Are you just playing with me?” I hated that I sounded like I was about to cry.

“Of course not, Joey.” Darrin said in a calm voice. “Look, how ‘bout Wednesday, hm? We go out then.” I merely nodded and gave a defeated sigh when Darrin patted my shoulder.

Wednesday came and he arrived thirty minutes late. He apologized, saying something got in the way, and I let it slip.

We had dinner and he drove me home, kissing me goodnight.

We stayed with each other for at least four months before he dumped me. I was devastated. The boy I loved since sixth grade finally was with me and had decided to dump me after his piano concert.

“What did I do wrong?!” I screeched at him.

“It's not you, Joey,” Darrin was saying. “This just doesn’t work out. Your parents are homophobic and to be with you?” He shrugged. “Well, not a good idea, huh?” He gave me a look, tilting his chin up slightly, a thin smile curling on his lips.

“They don’t have to know!” I hissed, waving a hand around. “Seriously, Darrin, c’mon! I can keep a good secret... and after our senior year, we can go to the same college, away from my parents...” I tried to convince him.

He shook his head in short jerks. “I like you a lot. Actually, more than like. But this won’t work out for us. Something’s going to get the best of us. What if we get caught? Then what?” Darrin ran a hand through his golden hair. “Nah... find a girl this time, Jo. I thought you said you didn’t like boys.” Darrin gave me a pointed look.

“I like you!” I said, and my heart burst. It was true. I did like him, only him.

“Hm... you sure about that?” Darrin’s voice was raw.

“Darrin, I love you! I always did! Don't break what we have...” I tried to reach for him but stopped myself.

“We...weren’t really dating...” Darrin continued.

“So, you’re saying I wasn’t really your boyfriend?” I snarled at him.

“I. I guess so. But I do like you...” He seemed trapped.

“You’re lying. You say you like me, but the times we went out, I wasn’t ‘really’ your boyfriend.” I did air quotes and he cringed. “Whatever.” I growled.

“I’m sorry... but we weren’t...dating. We were just fooling around. I. I don’t want to offend you, Joey, please!” He pleaded.

“So, we were merely ‘fooling around’. Nice. Thanks for that.” I whipped around when I felt his fingers wrapped around my wrist.

Darrin turned me around and I knew what he was going to do. I pressed my finger on his lips and said in a breaking voice, “No, I don’t think so. I don’t think so, Darrin Meyer.” I swallowed bile and saw his blue-and-hazel eyes go wide. “You hurt me enough. I have liked you since sixth grade...and you lit my world on fire when you went out with me. I let it go when you didn’t come, or you forgot, or you came late, or all the other things you did to me... I let those go. I had so much hope...which I realized was a bad thing to do. To hope. Forget it.” I wrenched my wrist free from his grip and stalked off.

I should have kissed him for the last time. I should have but I didn’t.

He never bothered to answer my calls, respond to my emails, or reply to my texts. A week later, he found another boyfriend to “replace” me.

The last time he talked to me was over text. The text said: “Don't give up hope. You never know what tomorrow will bring".

I lost hope anyways because he never texted, called, emailed or talked to me. He treated me like a stranger. And that hurt.

“Don’t give up hope”. What hope? I had no hope.

Yet I checked my phone every second, hoping he would text me first.