This story is about my first love in college, which happened about one year ago. WARNING: It contains gay male sex and if you should not be reading such story or you are under the age 18, please leave now.
Don't say you ever loved me
Chapter Three
That was the first time I found a decent excuse to ditch a class, and I slept the whole morning and noon, not even wanting to have lunch. I woke up, sitting on the edge of my bed and staring blankly ahead.
"Bang!" A crash on the door and I knew it must be Peng, my roomie. Impinging the door before he'd enter and slamming it after he'd leave is his daily routine. He actually has a nickname that absolutely has something to do with his appearance, "old man" characterized by his weathered faced. Though people from northern China where it is extremely arid have typical faces like him, he is just a too representative one.
"You didn't go to class, so what's happened?" He asked me before he unloaded his backpack and stuff.
"Well, I stayed up the night, you know I didn't come back yesterday...Thanks." I didn't want to say anything more.
"Okay...I know I shouldn't have stepped in your personal affairs, but remember the organic chemistry final is around the corner. The classes left before the exam comes are very important. Oh, almost forget. I met Yucai moment ago and he was asking me about you."
"Oh? What he has said about me?" I followed him quickly, and to tell the truth, when I heard his name, my eyes suddenly brightened.
"You two were together last night playing StarCraft?" Peng asked.
"Yea, and I was beaten like shit." I chuckled.
"Hehe, no wonder he seemed also lethargic and asked whether you were still in bed."
"Likewise." I said as I got dressed and headed for the doorway, "I will have to grab something to eat, see ya later."
Why did I, I wondered, suddenly become jocund like a happy bird while a moment ago I was a withered leaf? Was it because that I heard his name or my desire for delicacy won out?
After that day, I began to notice him in particular. Anyway, he treated me as before we had our night together, that I was still merely a friend-to-say-hi-to of his. But it always took me a while to get pacified if I came across him. Although, as classmates, we had time together almost every day, yet I really got very little chance to be further closer to him. When I started to find a conversation with him, his reserve has been always excessive and habitual, sometimes just an unnatural smile pending on his handsome face, even making me embarrassed. However, I found myself more and more insane-I was indeed obsessed with him for no reason. Maybe this is the law of nature that extrovert people tend to find those who are usually speechless. And I decided that I would need to let the infatuation grow and grow. I needed to be in love.
The question remained, was he gay? Or if he knew I was gay and he was straight, would he still see me as a friend?
The coming Friday night, I was unable to sleep but only tossed back and forth on bed. I typed a sentence which had triggered our journey of emotional entanglement. "I like you, do you like me?" I took a deep breath and covered my eyes with my left hand, sending the message out by pressing the OK button with my right hand. Then immediately my face flushed, but it had been to late to take whatever back.
It seemed like a year to me when I received his reply. "You know, I love my girlfriend so...Good night.:)"
That was all, and I nearly could hear my heart beating so fast and irregularly. Could it be the end? Why had I sent such an unscrupulous message even without thinking it over with my brain? Anyways, I didn't think how much pain I might get if he never talked to me again, after all, I never took any moves. But that was going to be embarrassed-with such a cloud of messed-up stuffs on my mind, I slipped into the dreamland.
It was a dull, dark and rainy morning when I found it was the next day. And I knew I had to confront what I had done last night, whatever it might be. I had physical chemistry class at the second period in the morning, however, the message I sent to him and the reply I got kept floating again and again as if there were a projector which was all-time screening a movie.
I told myself it was okay, but I was not okay. I had no breakfast and felt butterflies in my stomach. The class had been going for a while, and there he was, taking notes as he looked up at the blackboard from time to time. I couldn't tell what his mood was, angry or glad, not a clue.