First Glimpse of Ryan (from the gay romance, Memorizing You)

I  knew  how  different  I  was.  I  was  made  aware  of  it  every  day  that  my  dad  asked  me  if  I  had  a  girlfriend  yet.  I’d  made  up  a  million  responses  to  that   question,  but  I  was  getting  tired  of  it.  More  than  that,  I  was  getting  tired  of   knowing  that  I  would  never  have  a  response  to  it.  To  avoid  the  question  I  took  to   running  during  dinnertime,  or  booking  a  lawn  job  just  so  I  didn’t  have  to  sit  at   the  table  and  be  faced  with  devising  another  answer  to  the  unanswerable  query.   The  world  just  was  not  constructed  for  a  person  like  me  to  fit  in.  I  wasn’t  bad-­‐‑ looking.  I  had  a  nice  face.  Pleasant  features.  No  acne.  Blue  eyes.  Decent  body.   Surely  someone  out  there  had  to  be  looking  at  me  the  way  I  looked  at  others.   Somebody  out  there  had  to  want  me  the  way  I  desired  others.  Were  they  out   there  looking  at  me  but  going  through  what  I  was?  Not  being  able  to  do  anything   about  it?  It  was  frustrating.

I  heard  my  classmates  talking  about  sex  all  the  time  and  I  felt  left  out.  The   only  guy  untouched  by  human  hands.  I  sat  on  the  sidelines  as  the  football  team   practiced.  Their  field  was  in  the  middle  of  the  track  I  ran.  From  the  bleachers  I’d   watch  this  parade  of  masculinity,  half  in  shirts,  half  skins  as  they  ran  and   grappled  each  other  to  the  ground  in  what  looked  like  a  sex  dance  to  me.  They’d   get  up,  pat  each  other’s  ass,  and  go  back  at  it  once  again.  All  of  it  so  seemingly   normal  to  them.  But  to  me,  it  was  a  personification  of  sexuality.  My  eyes  viewed   the  world  with  a  different  perspective.

On  one  particular  day  there  was  a  guy  sitting  on  the  bench  I’d  not  seen   before.  A  new  face.  He  was  just  another  one  of  those  joes  like  me.  Ordinary   enough  to  pass  by  on  the  street  without  a  glance.  Short  blond  hair,  a  lithe  but  not   consequential  torso,  but  with  the  most  extraordinary  muscular  legs.  They  looked   disproportionate  to  his  body.  Thighs  that  looked  impossible  to  squeeze  into  his   training  shorts.

I  would  watch  part  of  the  practice,  but  inevitably  my  gaze  would  drift  back   to  him.  He  seemed  uncomfortable;  like  he  didn’t  want  to  be  there.  Distracted  enough  to  look  almost  everywhere  but  the  field.  He  either  wanted  to  be  in  the   game  very  badly,  or  to  not  be  there  at  all.  I  could  only  guess  by  his  body   language.

There  was  a  scuffle  among  two  of  the  players  that  brought  the  coach  in  to   intercede.  Macho  yelling  from  all  sides  for  a  few  moments  before  the  shrill  bleat   of  whistle  pierced  the  noise  and  brought  it  all  to  quiet.  The  hoarse  voice  of  the   coach  began  the  reprimand  as  I  returned  my  attention  to  the  guy  on  the  bench.   He  stared  at  me.  Straight  at  me.  There  was  no  one  else  around.  I  was  the  only   person  seated  on  the  bleachers.  His  hand  raised  from  his  lap  in  a  small  wave.  I   made  a  small,  indecisive  wave  back  and  then  sat  there  in  the  strangeness  of  the   moment.  I  had  no  clue  what  just  happened  or  why.

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Memorizing You By Dan Skinner: https://www.amazon.com/Memorizing-You-Dan-Skinner-ebook/dp/B00DUXS4Z2/

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