Little Stalker (2 page)

skin so smooth-looking that I want to run my fingers all over it. His hair – on a dry day – is

shiny and floppy and looks soft to the touch. I
have
wondered what it would be like to link my arms around his waist, to pull him closer, to taste his skin. Yeah, I would have taken him

to bed weeks ago if he was a girl.

Cut-back grunts ricochet off the walls in the compact shower stall while I pump my

erection harder, savouring the building fissure in my groin and sack of balls. I brace my hand

on the wall over my head and lick my arm as I imagine myself licking the boy’s chest. I graze

my teeth on my skin as I would the stalker’s neck and then suck hard with a muffled moan.

My hips buck into my rhythm, faster and faster until I’m at the brink of my climax.

That’s when my concentration is interrupted by the phone ringing from the counter

next to the sink. I try to ignore it, but the sound is distracting, and I lose the building pleasure that coursed through my groin towards that one place.

With a deep sigh, I shut off the water and wrap a towel around my middle before

snatching up the phone.

“What?” I ask whoever is on the other end.

“Uh, it’s me. I’ve been knocking for like five minutes,” says Ray.

Goddamn it.

“Hang on,” I say and flip my phone shut, stride toward the door, and let my very tall

and gangly friend in. Raindrops slither down his mocha cheeks. His loose black curls that

usually stand up to form a halo around his head look all sad as they slump down by the sides

of his face.

“Aw, man, don’t tell me you were jerking off when I called,” says Ray with a shudder

as he shrugs off his damp jacket and hangs it on the hook.

Ignoring that, I gesture for him to follow me into my bedroom.

“Did you see him?”

Ray flumps down on my sex-scented bedcovers and screws up his nose. “Who?”

“My stalker, numb-nuts – who else? Look.” I point out the window, but of course

stalker-kid is nowhere to be seen.

Ray, now standing behind me, lays a hand on my bare shoulder and squeezes before

letting go.

“For the hundredth time, you’re imagining it.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ray, I’m not imagining it! I know what I saw!”

My skin still tingles where Ray touched it only seconds ago, and my cock stirs behind

the towel.

Oh God, why me?

“Okay, cool down, Coby,” Ray says with his hands in front of him, his eyes finally –

finally
– looking solemn. “Fine, so you have a kid who’s stalking you. But why would he do that?”

“I don’t know,” I say with a sigh and run a hand through my wet, dirty-blond locks of

hair.

“Maybe he thinks you’re hot,” Ray says with a smirk. “You know, a fag.”

A Fag.

My heart sinks, slowly bringing the nausea back. I swallow and force a tight smile on

my face. “Get real.”

“No really. Maybe you have a psycho stalker who walks around just waiting for the

opportunity to cuff you up and pound your ass.”

Ray bursts out in a laugh, mostly likely because I’m staring at him with eyes and

mouth wide open. He punches my bicep.

“Very funny,” I mumble with a shake of my head as the mental image flashes through

my mind. It’s not exactly helping with my half-hard cock issue. The bulge under the towel

looks abnormally big for someone who isn’t supposed to have a boner.

Fuck, he’s gonna figure it out...

I push past him to yank off the bed sheets and toss them into the laundry basket.

“But maybe he does have a thing for me, you know. Like how shy girls used to chase

me around in high school.”

“Okay,” Ray says slowly, pulling out my office chair and straddling it. “So, if he

approached you with that, what would you do?”

My shoulders stiffen just a little where I stand by the open closet door with my hands

around a clean set of sheets.

“Turn him down, of course.”

“You mean you honestly wouldn’t want to try it? I mean, if he has a thing for you,

he’d probably let you do whatever you’d want with him. You wouldn’t wanna try it?”

I glance over my shoulder with a cocked eyebrow.

“You have something you need to confess?”

“No,” Ray says with a laugh. “I’m just saying. Just because you’d fuck him, it

wouldn’t have to mean anything.”

I keep my eyebrow cocked.

“No, really, an ass is an ass,” Ray insists, his features shifting from teasing to

seriousness as he watches me with a meaningful look. “But you know I’m not against gays or

anything. If I had a friend who was gay, I’d be totally cool with it. My cousin Mike is gay.”

“Good for him,” I say after a few short breaths. “As a psychology student, should you

be encouraging me to take advantage of people?”

He shrugs with a grin. “Not like you haven’t taken countless advantage of girls – so

why not a guy? Besides, it wouldn’t be taking advantage if he really likes you. You’d be

doing him a favour.”

“That’s messed up, Ray. But you’re wrong. You’re totally against gays. You call

them fags, fairies, and homos. And you stopped spending time with Mike after he came out.”

“Not my fault Mike’s been busy. And I don’t mean anything bad by saying homo and

all that.”

“The fuck you do. I don’t degrade people that way.”

“No, you just get drunk off your ass, sleep with random girls to prove a point, and

then kick them out in disgust the morning after, Coby. You’ve been doing that since high

school. What does that tell you?”

He meets my stare with a calm encouraging look. I swallow hard and turn my back to

him.

“That I don’t like commitment?”

“You grew up in a stable home, never had someone abandon you, break up with you,

or basically turn you down. You were popular in school, you’re an active member of PETA,

and you own a very fat, very pampered hamster.” He points to the open door to the living

area where Percy lies asleep in his four-story cage. “You don’t have commitment issues.”

“Stop using me as a study case,” I mumble as I wrestle my pillow into a clean

pillowcase.

He wants me to tell him about some of the stupid fantasies I have? About... No, I

can’t even think it. Oh God, but I know it. I know what it is I think about all the time...

“I’m not gay, okay?” I say in a low voice – voice that is horribly choked. “I just

haven’t found the right girl, yet.”

“Okay,” he says softly. “Okay. You’re not gay. Let’s just go out for breakfast, okay?”

I bite my jaws shut as I gather myself, pulling out random items of clothing after

dumping the rest of the sheets on the bed.

What was that? Why does he want to know if I’m gay? Is
he
gay? Does
he
have a

thing for me and is trying to test his grounds? Could I ever kiss Ray?

He watches me as I get dressed, and I keep glancing at him as we walk to the

cafeteria.

I don’t know if I could do it. He’s been my best friend since middle school. I don’t

even find him all that attractive, though he has a nice body. He’s just...Ray. That proves I’m

not gay. If I were gay, I would have jumped him back in the room, right? Because he’s a guy.

On the way over, we pass a couple of Goth guys heavily made up in black, deep red,

and purple. That’s what being gay is all about, to shock and stand out. Make a statement or

some shit like that. I’m not into that. Still... I can’t help watching their linked fingers. They’re not big hands, but male hands all the same. For a very brief moment I wonder if it feels

different from holding hands with a girl.

“So you’re in?”

I snap my gaze from the Goths to focus on Ray, who, I realize now, has been talking

for a while.

“In on what?” I ask.

Ray rolls his eyes. “Did that girl suck your brain through your dick? Try to focus. Frat

party. Tonight.”

“I don’t know,” I say with a shrug. I usually feel so bad after Friday nights – or should

I say Saturday mornings – that I usually don’t go out on Saturday nights. Not to drink,

anyway.

Just as I’m about to enter the cafeteria I see a flash of red duck behind a brown-leafed

bush.

Stalker.

My heart hammers in my chest at the thought of seeing him. No, of
catching
him to

show him to Ray. I grab a firm hold of Ray’s arm and drag him toward the bushes. But of

course, as I reach it, stalker-kid is gone.

“What was that all about?” asks Ray, rubbing the spot on his arm. He looks around in

the browning earth of fallen leafs. “That kid again?”

“Yeah,” I say as I peer between the trees. He has to be close.
I have to see him.

Ray gives my back a firm pat.

“Well, maybe next time,” he says.

When I turn to look at him, I see a flash of worry on his face. A ball of heat fizzes

through my chest just before I snap.

“He’s real, okay?”

“Okay!” says Ray, placing his hands in front of him. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it.”

“You can read minds now?”

“It’s written all over your face, numb-nuts. I’m not being paranoid. Stop using me as a

case.”

“Okay,” says Ray. “Sorry, it’s just that once you start learning psychology, you can’t

help but notice things.”

“I’m not crazy.”

“Okay,” he says calmly, but sincerely.

My anger fades as we walk back to the cafeteria and grab some sandwiches and juice.

I decide it’s best for both our sakes to change the subject, and we dive into a verbal replay of

yesterday’s basketball game. I’ve always been a loyal supporter of the Sixers, while Ray

abandoned them in high school, going with Denver of all teams. Well, last night, my team

just handed
his
team their asses back.

The sky has cleared as we head back. We sludge through the puddles, my socks so

wet I feel cold inside-out. I can’t see any signs of stalker-boy, no matter how much I glance

around, but that doesn’t mean he’s not there.

Why is he stalking me?

My soaked socks slosh against the heater in my room before I find a fresh pair. Ray

has his school books splayed on my unmade bed, his body poured over them.

Could I kiss Ray?
He isn’t unattractive. He’s actually very popular with the girls.

“Thought you had basketball practise this morning,” I mutter as I sit myself by the

window and look out.

“Got a text saying it was delayed. I gotta go in twenty. Just have this test coming

up...” he mumbles, eyes glued to a page.

I should probably study, too. I don’t know why the hell I chose philosophy. It’s not

like it’s gonna help me get a job in the future. Not that I’ll need a job. As an only child of a

millionaire, I won’t have to lift a finger in the future. But even I can see that although it might be fun for a while, it’d get boring fast. Besides, I like college.

Dad only made his millions a few years back. He didn’t put up a fuss when I said I

wanted to go to a community college. Ray and I should have become roommates, but Ray

lives close by, and his parents can’t afford it. I’ve offered to pay, but everyone in that family

is so goddamn proud. Still, he spends most of his days here and some nights on the couch

when he can’t be bothered to go back.

No, Ray is like a brother to me. I could never have
that
sort of feelings for him.

A flash of red, two stories down, catches my eye. My heart pumps faster while the

back of my neck flares up.
What is he doing?

The kid pulls the sleeves of his sweater over his fists and crosses his arms over his

chest. His dark brown bangs droop over one eye as he kicks the pavement before he glances

up at my window. I jump back when I think he may have seen me, earning myself a

questioning look from Ray.

“He’s there,” I whisper, pointing to the window.

“Why the hell are you whispering,” says Ray. “It’s not like
he
can hear you.”

The way he said ‘he’ with air quotes sends another roll of anger through my body. I

thought he finally believed me, but I guess he’s signed me off as being delusional.

“Wait here,” I say in a firm tone. I grab my jacket off the chair, stuff my bare feet in

my wet sneakers, and stride out the door. I hear Ray scramble off the bed, but I close the door

and head down the stairs before he can stop me.

He wants proof? I’ll give him proof.

I can’t just walk right up to the boy or he’ll run away. Instead, I turn at the corner, into

a park that leads to the library. But instead of walking onward, I make sure I’m well hidden

behind a tree. Then I wait with my heart thumping in my throat.

My breath halts in my throat when the light tap in a puddle moves closer. My

heartbeat picks up while my fingers tremble with anticipation. Not because I’m finally about

to meet my little stalker face-to-face, I remind myself, but to finally be able to show him to

Ray.

As soon as I see the red, I hurtle myself from my hiding place, grab him by his loose

sweater and push him against the tree. His big, impossibly blue eye, framed in black eyeliner,

widens – the other hidden behind sleek bangs – and he gasps, sucking in a quick breath

through his half-parted red lips.

“Come with me,” I say in a deep voice.

He doesn’t say anything when I drag him back to the dorm, up the stairs, and into my

apartment. There, I ram him against the wall so hard his bangs flop from his face, revealing a