Kieran & Drew

By
L.A. G
ILBERT

N
OVELS
The Coil
Kieran & Drew Witness

N
OVELLAS

 

The Ghost on My Couch
Published by
D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

 

Dedicated to all the awkward teens who grew up to be awkward adults. You are awesome.
ChApteR OnE.

F
RUSTRATION was becoming an all too familiar feeling to Kieran. School frustrated him—it was boring as hell and full of assholes who all had some sort of beef with him. Home frustrated him—there was only one asshole (infrequently) there, his dad, and that was getting just plain awkward. He didn’t know when it happened precisely, but somewhere along the line, he and his dad had forgotten how to talk to each other. Now beyond the point of feeling hurt or actually caring, he was just eager to get out of Cedar Keys and Florida altogether.

The town itself was okay; it was just so…
small
. Boasting a population of around a thousand, Keys was a fishing town known for being a quaint and artsy kind of village with a thriving tourist trade for those looking for a laid-back vacation. The pace was so goddamn slow it was practically nonexistent. Everybody knew everybody. Everywhere was fish themed. Everywhere
smelled
of fish. Just… fucking
fish
! Morning, noon, and night. Even Keys’s high school baseball team— yes, such a thing existed, though he didn’t know why—was aquatically named: the Squids. The
Squids
.

And as much as all of this grated on Kieran, nothing nettled him more than being a senior and
still
a virgin. A friendless, gay, horny as hell virgin. If the small-town lifestyle wasn’t enough to make him want to leave, then a desperate urge to have actual sex with another human being was.

It was an isolating feeling, seeing the people he’d grown up with suddenly pairing off, all boy-girl, boy-girl. He’d never been outright
bullied
for being gay—in fact, he’d never even announced or confirmed that he was gay to anyone (who would he tell?)—but people looked at him differently. As if they sensed he wasn’t like them. It was the reason he felt like the school weirdo.

It wasn’t always that way. Three or so years ago, round about ninth grade, he just stopped fitting in. One stupid incident set it all in place: the veritable
nightmare
that was the gym shower rooms. He hadn’t meant to look at the other boys, and he certainly hadn’t meant to get caught. He only realized he had a boner when the laughing and crude comments began.

He didn’t get any hassle about it anymore, but it was the reason he recoiled from other students—other
guys
in particular. He’d become suddenly all too aware that he was never going to want to put his hand up a girl’s shirt, and was instead exclusively interested in putting his hand down a guy’s pants. He’d realized that he was different and that nobody was like him. Nobody. And no matter how many “it gets better” videos he watched on YouTube, he still felt alone and like an outsider.

So all of his hopes were pinned on college somewhere else, somewhere
not
in Keys or even Florida. The farther away, the better. He just had to stick out his senior year. He’d keep his head down, study enough to get passable grades, and fantasize about the day when he’d have himself some friends, maybe even a boyfriend, and about leaving Keys altogether for somewhere that didn’t smell like the Little Mermaid’s ass.

But for now, he’d go to lunch.
“Hey, spaz.”

Kieran looked up just in time to see Adam Jefferson—a guy who innately hated him for no good reason—slam into him and send him sprawling into the lockers. His iPod he’d been scrolling through clattered to the floor. He looked up from where he splatted against the lockers and there was Adam, crowding close and getting in his face.

“Watch where you’re going, freak.”

The fist that slammed next to his head rattled the lockers and made him flinch. Adam smirked, pushing away, and before Kieran could stop himself, he did something very stupid: he spoke back. “Fuck you,” he whispered.

But Adam, who had a good few inches and thirty or so pounds on him, heard him clear as day. “The fuck did you just say to me?”

He recoiled against the lockers, immediately regretting his back talk as Adam leaned menacingly close, and Kieran’s eyes widened slightly as he realized just what it was he said out loud. Giggling drew his attention to two girls standing close by, watching as the brawny Adam Jefferson tormented the weird kid nobody liked, and he suddenly hated people—all people and life in general. He wanted to call them bitches for laughing at what was happening. He wanted them to feel what he felt. But if he wanted to walk away from this without a limp, he needed to apologize; common sense and self-preservation dictated so. But his pride wouldn’t let him.

“I said f-fuck you,” he whispered back, waiting for his first-ever black eye.

 

“You in the mood to die or something?” Adam growled.

“I’m in the mood to get you busted for throwing the first punch,” he said with more bravado than he felt. He swallowed hard and then gasped when Adam screwed his fist in the front of his shirt, pulling him close.

“I’m thinking it’ll be worth it.”

Kieran couldn’t help but try to pull away from the grip. He squinted his eyes closed and braced for the fist that was surely hurtling his way, but another voice interrupted his impending pummeling.

“Hey, Jefferson!”

They both looked to see Drew Anderson—gorgeous, liked by all, pitcher for the Squids and all-around nice guy Drew Anderson— heading their way. Adam’s fist slackened slightly.

“’Sup, asshole.” Adam smirked.

“Been looking for you.” Drew frowned, nodding toward Kieran but otherwise ignoring him. “Should you be doing that?” he asked Adam. “You know, with a game coming up this weekend and all. Last thing we need is you benched for roughhousing with your boyfriend.”

Kieran very nearly fell on his ass when the grip on his shirt suddenly disappeared. He smoothed his shirt out and watched bitterly as Adam aimed a brotherly “fuck you” at Drew before diving for his middle to take him down. Drew easily shoved him aside, not even glancing at Kieran.

“You know I’m getting it good and regular from Tiff, asshole.” Adam grinned, attempting to take Drew, who matched if not exceeded his height and build, in a headlock which Drew easily dodged.

Drew laughed. “Speaking of, I just saw your girl outside the science block looking
pissed
, man. You should probably follow up on that.”

“Ah, shit. I was supposed to meet her for lunch.”
“
So
fucking whipped,” Drew teased.

“Yeah, and so fucking
laid
. Just you remember that. I’ll see you later, yeah?”

 

“Yeah, later.”

Kieran watched the exchange, trying his best not to feel pathetic and insignificant, before deciding to slink away just in case Jefferson changed his mind and gave him that black eye after all. He straightened the straps of his backpack and was already walking away when the sound of someone calling his name made him look over his shoulder. It was Drew.

“Hey, man. You alright?”

And goddammit, just like every other time Drew Anderson had so much as looked his way, he blushed. “Um. Yeah, I’m fine,” he muttered to his shoes.

“Here.” He held out Kieran’s iPod. “This yours?”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah, it is. Thanks.” He took the iPod, trying to not embarrass himself somehow when their hands touched accidentally.

“No problem. Listen, Jefferson’s a bit of a caveman, you may have noticed.” Drew shrugged one shoulder, looking almost apologetic. “You should probably just stay out of his way.”

Kieran toyed with the tie that adjusted the shoulder straps of his bag. “I shouldn’t have to.”

Drew glanced around them, the hall thinning out as rumbling stomachs drew most students to the cafeteria. “I know,” he said. “But just stay out of his way anyway, yeah?”

Kieran looked up to see piercing green eyes watching him, as if searching for something. He swallowed and nodded his head. “Thanks for intercepting.”

Drew offered him a friendly, one-sided smile, a dimple showing in his cheek. “No worries. See you around.”

 

I wish.
“Yeah, see you.”

Kieran watched discreetly as Drew turned, throwing a wave over his shoulder and heading off like most people toward the cafeteria. He let out a deep breath and slumped against the lockers. He hated school, and he hated almost everyone in it. He wondered if Drew would be as nice to him if he knew about the almighty crush Kieran harbored for him.

Drew. Freakin’. Anderson. Approximately five nine, a whole three inches taller than Kieran. Totally toned, with the kind of slim biceps that made Kieran hard from just a glimpse. Amazing green eyes, kind of dark blond hair that looked good even when messy. Fucking
dimples
, and a smile that was not only handsome but genuine.

He’d had a thing for Drew ever since Mr. Trinder, their art teacher, seated the class in alphabetical order at the beginning of senior year. This left him, Kieran Appleby, to share one of the high two-seater desks with the one and only Drew Anderson at the very back of the classroom. As soon as Drew smiled and introduced himself to Kieran, breaking all cliché jock rules, he was done for.

They’d never had a real conversation, partly because every time Drew nodded
hi
to him in art class, he’d turn into a blushing girl, managing a small nod back but otherwise leaning away from him on his stool, attempting to concentrate on not making a sound or moving in any way that would draw attention to himself.

Today’s unexpected run-in with Adam, and ultimately Drew, left him feeling rattled. He’d actually played with the thought of skipping social studies that afternoon in favor of his one guilty pleasure: hiding under the bleachers with a sharpie, tagging the steps with doodles and his and Drew’s initials in the hideaway he was sure no one would ever find, while watching Drew practice.

No one would ever see their names intertwined. It was the same pattern sprawled again and again on the underside of the bleachers, all grammar and punctuation disregarded in favor of erratic semicolons, quotation marks and capitalization that refused to conform, as was his way. He knew it was weird. Scratch
weird
, he knew it might be construed as downright creepy if anyone ever found out, but it was the one thing besides art class that he looked forward to while at school.

He’d see how he was feeling and decide later whether or not to skip class. Right now he was hungry.

There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to the cafeteria, though. He hadn’t done that since he was a sophomore. He went where he always went for lunch. He left the corridor, travelled down to the basement, and walked straight up to the door marked “Janitor’s Closet” and let himself in.