“Hey,” Clayton snaps his fingers in my face.
“What?” I shake my head, waking up.
“You just spiraled.”
“No,” I lie.
“You did. What’s the matter?”
“What if they don’t like me? What if they notice that I had this gay-awakening and that I’m a whore and-”
“Okay, relax, Max,” Clayton laughs.
“This isn’t funny.”
“Yeah, it is,” Mav chimes in.
“Fuck off, peanut gallery,” I grumble.
“It’s going to be fine. They are more than excited to meet you and they already said yes to dinner.”
“You already asked them!?”
“Yeah, so, you’re going anyway,” Clayton confirms.
“Tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow.”
“Oh my god,” I say to myself. “I guess this is happening.”
“Awwww, they grow up so fast!” Mav chants.
“Fuck you.”
I’m borderline going to shit my pants with fear.
Clayton had to talk me off of a ledge at least five times since he told me about the dinner. The dinner that is tonight. With his parents. I’ve never got to the point of having to meet someone’s parents. Every person I’ve been with, it was always casual. Nothing serious.
Clayton is my one and only real. My constant besides my friends. I never imagined we’d be here.
When he forgave me, life picked right back up where it had stopped. Studying, dinners, bike rides, beach trips, and everything else in between with sprinkled in sex and head.
He’s given me head and I’ve fucked him. We’re working toward me giving him head and him fucking me, but I’m… terrified, if I’m being honest. Every time he puts a body part even remotely close to my ass, I clench up. It’s foreign to me and the problem is that I can’t stop thinking about it. I want it so bad, but my head keeps getting in the way.
“Hey, are you ready to go?” Clayton asks, knocking on my bathroom door. I’ve been in here for almost thirty minutes. Half getting ready, half pacing around the small space.
I take one last look in the mirror. I’m wearing a pair of dark, straight cut jeans, a black leather belt, and a black button down with the sleeves rolled to my elbows. My hair is down in my face, but I’ve put on and taken off my head band at least five times; unsure of how to do my hair. I’m wearing my all black vans to complete the look.
Thinking that I look good enough to show up to his parents, I open the door with a sigh.
“Max, baby, you’re working yourself up too much,” Clayton says when he sees my expression.
“I’ve never done this before.”
“You’ve never met someone's parents?”
“Just friends and stuff, but not like this,” I reveal.
