Gideon looked behind Mac at the party. Mac waited like a defendant watching the jury foreman stand, ready to read his verdict.
“Great idea!”
100 percent.
Φ
Mac had to wipe his sweaty palm on his shirt in order to open the door to his floor. The layout reminded him of a submarine: long and narrow. The halls were empty. Everyone was at the mixer, or elsewhere. Mac’s heart beat faster at the silence around them. His keys shook in his trembling hand. He jiggled it in the lock a few times before it opened.
Mac sat at his desk and turned on his computer. He took calming breaths in through his nose, and out his mouth. “You can sit on the bed. No need for you to hunch over me like that.”
“Cool.” Gideon did as instructed.
Mac willed his fingers to stop shaking on the computer keys. He was an astronaut touching down on a new planet. Planet Gay.I can’t believe I am here, in my room, with a guy, who’s ON MY BED, and things are 100 percent about to happen.
Gideon’s back slumped against the wall. “So what do you want to study here?”
“Patterns.” Mac spun around his chair to face Gideon. The computer was in his lap.
“Patterns?”
“Sociology is the study of patterns and trends. Our lives and our society are a system of patterns that we’ve honed over time, and I want to study them. What does what we do everyday say about us? They’re all patterns that humans have been refining for centuries.”
“You don’t think people can break patterns?”
“That’s what I want to find out.”
“You really thought this over. My mom said that economics would be a good major for me, and I have some friends who work on Wall Street.”
Mac handed over his laptop, and their fingers touched in the process. He now wished the laptop had remained on his lap.
Gideon scoured the web for just the right picture of a matzo ball. He was on a serious mission. He found his winning picture within the depths of Pinterest. A thick, large ball being raised out of a piping hot bowl of soup.
“Feast your eyes on this beauty.”
Mac sat next to him on the bed. He felt every spring move underneath him. Gideon might’ve said something else about the matzo ball, but Mac couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of his pulse in his ears. They were still circling each other. No punches thrown yet.
“Okay, so it might not look like much. You really need to taste one.”
Mac took the computer from Gideon and moved it to the desk chair. Before Gideon could say anything else, Mac kissed him.
Mac could hear Gideon’s breathing and his own heart rate dueling in his ears.I am feeling Gideon’s nose against my nose! I am feeling his lips with my lips!But just as fast as the kiss happened, it was over.
Gideon scooted back. “I’m straight.”
His words were the real right hook here. He stood up faster than the speed of light.
“Oh.” Mac didn’t know what else to say in this situation. He looked to Gideon, who didn’t seem to have malice in his green eyes—just shock, and a dose of fear—which seemed to be a good start.
“I’m sorry.” Mac felt his cheeks heating up faster than a stove. “I thought…I guess we got our signals mixed.”
People used that expression too lightly. Mac thought about trains, and how if they got their signals mixed, they would crash and kill hundreds of people.
Gideon opened the door. He couldn’t even look Mac in the eye. “I’ll see you around.”
The smiling, the flirting, the light touches. He thought he was on a street of green lights.How did I get it so wrong?
Mac ran into the hall and found Gideon hauling open the stairwell door. “Gideon.”
