The fit behind the bleachers was tighter than I imagined, and for a moment I considered turning around and sitting right back down. Surely someone would see me struggling behind the bleachers and point me out to a teacher, but the thought was quickly pulled away, by a hand that was already helping me through. I stumbled forward blindly. How does he see anything back here? As if to answer my question, he flicked on a small light in the corner. "So," he said, his voice a siren against the silence. I could only manage out one of those single syllable utterances, you know, the ones that make you sound like an idiot. At my expense, he laughed. "Um," he said quickly, "what are you doing?" I only stared. Too long, perhaps, as he seemed to be blushing, as I knew I was. "Do you speak English?" Finally I spoke, "I...just...saw you come back here and-" "Wanted to see if I was beating off?" he interrupted. "No," I said, too loudly. "I was just...curious..." He looked at me thoughtfully, "Curiosity can get you into a lot of trouble." He said, and for a moment I thought he was going to hurt me. But that thought was quickly shoved from my mind when I looked up and saw him taking off his gym uniform. I quickly looked away, "It's OK," he said, laughing a bit. "It's nothing you haven't seen before. At least, I hope you've seen it before." What could I say? I quickly ran through the options in my head and decided that anything I say could only make me look worse. "Uh," is all I managed to choke out. "I'm not asking how many times you've had sex, I'm just asking if you know what the male anatomy looks like." "Yes," I said, too quickly. "I mean, of course I do, I'm a guy aren't I?" He looked at me, I mean he looked at me, you know the look. I tried to hide myself, make him ask for what he wanted. And then I realized what I was doing and quickly stopped. "Are you alright?" he asked, apparently I was blushing again. "I'm fine, just a little nervous."
I instantly knew that was the wrong thing to say. I heard the alarms going off and felt the signs above my head lighting up, flashing "Virgin, virgin!" And then another thought flashed through my mind. One that had been bothering me for a while. Regardless of all this, of what this boy had suddenly become to me, I had forgotten his name. As of this point, he was just that, a boy. Once again, alarms. "You don't need to be-" he started, just as the bell rang to tell us that the hour was over. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow." The boy said, as he hurried out from behind the bleachers, back into the crowded sea that was our gym class. I was left alone in back of the bleachers, thinking about his last words.
That night, I dreamed about him. I dreamed about it would feel to have him hold me in his strong arms. About what it would be like to have his soft, perfect lips pressed against mine. To have his tongue slip past my lips and fight against my own. Despite the fact that I was asleep, I could feel myself rising to attention. I knew what was going to happen, but I was afraid nonetheless. Partly because I had never had this happen to me, and partly because I didn't know how I would hide the results of such an experience. I felt it coming, rising, bubbling, but by the time I had prepared myself for what was to come, it had already happened. No, I realized, it was still happening. I was in the middle of it. The force, the energy that was my climax. I had never felt anything like it before, it was wonderful, extraordinary, it was so perfect I had to make some kind of sound, my body wouldn't allow me not to. It was supposed to be a sigh, but it came out more like a gasp for air, like I had just been drowning and was now above the surface, breathing, settling, finishing.
The next day I was not looking forward to seeing Chad (I had suddenly remembered his name). I felt ashamed of what happened last night, like I had had sex with someone looked just like him, but wasn't him. How would I face him now without wanting to act out my wants, my needs on him? When I snuck behind the bleachers and didn't see Chad, I thought I had been saved, that God had given me an extra day to work out my dream. But all hope of that was quickly blown to hell when he popped his head behind the metal encasing that held the bleachers. I jumped when he spoke, even though I was looking right at him. "Hey," he said, already climbing over me. "What's up?" he asked, so casually it felt like we'd known each other for years, instead of just days. Trying not to repeat yesterday's fiasco, I answered him quickly, "Not too much," I said. "I have an algebra test I need to study for." This seemed to worry him, "Oh, do you want me to leave you alone?" he asked, with such an underlying tone of disappointment in his voice, that even if I wanted to, I couldn't let him leave. "No," I said, smiling. "I don't have algebra until last hour, anyway." That cheered him up, "Oh, great," he said. I looked at him, already knowing what his answer to my next question would be. "So, what do you do back here?"