One of the Guys

by Dawn Doyle

  “Why does she still hang out with the guys? Can’t she find any friends of her own?”

  “Why does Logan even talk to her still?”

  “She could be really pretty if she weren't trying to be a boy.”

  I looked at myself in the mirror. I must admit, I wasn’t bad looking and mascara was the limit of my makeup, but I still looked very much like a girl.

  My blue eyes were framed by long eyelashes that curled up all on their own, my nose was average, and my full lips were so feminine I could pout like a 50’s Hollywood star. Just a little red lipstick and I’d be all set.

  Yuck.

  I took off my T-shirt and looked at my body. My waist nipped in, tight and defined from years of hard work. My slim shoulders and arms were toned and strong, yet still feminine.

  I didn’t understand why I felt so embarrassed about showing off my figure. Any normal girl, my age, would be flaunting what she has with pride. All I know is, I felt uncomfortable. I guess I really didn’t want that attention. If I could muster up some courage to wear something a little tighter, and more my size, maybe I could get used to it.

  I’m sure that day will come, maybe, but right now I wasn’t ready.

  Slipping my T-shirt back on, I made my way downstairs to find my Mom. We were going to the spa, and she was so excited to go. I was thinking about pulling a ‘sickie’ when she spotted me.

  “Chase! It’s almost time to go for our appointments.” She beamed at me. I felt bad at thinking about getting out of going. She looked so happy. “I can’t wait to go. Some girly time together, it’s going to be fun!” She clapped her hands like an excited teenager, and I just smiled, but inside I wanted to scream.

  “Here are my favorite girls.” My Dad said as he walked into the kitchen. “Looking forward to your session?” He asked me, and I could see that he was just dying to laugh. He knew I didn’t want to go.

  “Yeah, Dad. I’m ecstatic, can’t you tell?” I asked, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Come on Chase, you’ll have a good time with your Mom.” He pulled me into his arms for a hug. “Your Mom has been looking forward to this all day. Don’t back out.” He whispered into my ear.

  “I won’t.” I sighed.

  “Let’s go!” My Mom chirped, kissing my Dad before we left.

  We got into the car, and my Mom chatted happily all the way there. I zoned out a little when I heard Logan’s name.

  “Sorry, what?” I asked.

  “I said, how are things with Logan?”

  “Um… Ok, I guess. Why?”

  My Mom smiled at me like there was something going on. I only wished there was.

  “Well, you’ve been friends for a long time, honey. Don’t you think it’s a little strange that he always wants to hang out with you?”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I said, a little too harshly.

  “Oh, Honey. I didn’t mean that in a bad way. I meant that he always wants to be around you. Don’t you think, as a teenage boy, that he might want to be around you for other reasons?” She raised an eyebrow and smiled.

  “We’re friends, Mom. We’ve been hanging out for almost three years. Being a teenager has nothing to do with it.”

  I knew what she was getting at, but I didn’t want to give her the impression that I did, or that I wanted more than to just hang out with Logan.

  “That boy has something for you, Chase. I think he likes you a different way too.”

  If only that was true. I thought.

  “He doesn’t, Mom. I think I’d know if he did. Anyway, we all hang out together most of the time. Sometimes, when the others are busy, Logan and I will hang out alone, to study.” I hoped I sounded convincing enough. It hurt to admit to my Mom that there was nothing between us, because I wished that it was different.

  “If you say so, honey.” She said, patting my knee with her hand.

  I turned my head to look out of the window as we drove by the stores on the main shopping strip.

  Lots of boutiques, salons, shoe stores, and cafe’s were lined up. You could seriously go into just a couple of the places and walk out like a different person.

  My Mom pulled up outside a modern looking place, with all its silver, and oak signage, and a glass door with silver writing. It looked nice, but it wasn’t my thing.

  Reluctantly, I walked in behind my Mom and she went to the counter to announce that we were there for our treatments.

  I looked around, and there were a few stations were the staff were doing nails, some where putting makeup on customers and some were doing something to their feet.

  Oh God! Please let me go home!

  I could see some rooms, near the back that had ‘treatment room’ followed by a number on the doors. I guess that’s where they went for the private things like waxing and stuff.

  Ouch.

  I’ll stick to my razor.

  “Chase.” My Mom called to get my attention.

  The woman behind the counter was looking at me like she’d asked me a question. She handed me a list of things that they offer.

  “What’s this for?” I asked.

  “It’s our treatment list.” My mom said with a huge smile.

  I looked down at the list, back to my Mom, and then to the woman. Then, I realized what she’d booked us in for.

  No way in hell was I having that!

  Chapter 4

  “I don’t want a massage!” I almost shouted at my Mom.

  There was no way on earth that was happening.

  “But honey, I’ve booked us in.” My Mom whined.

  “I’ll have a manicure, but that’s my limit.” I said.

  The staff were looking at me like there was something wrong with me.

  “How about a facial?”

  “No.” I said through my clenched jaw, glaring at her.

  My Mom knows I don’t like this stuff and trying to get me to do things, especially when I was suddenly the center of attention, wasn’t going to make me agree.

  “Chase…”

  “Just the manicure, I’ll wait whilst you have a massage.” I said, trying to plead with her to just leave me be.

  “Just manicures today, thank you.” My Mom said to the receptionist with an annoyed sigh.

  I could tell that she wanted some girly bonding time with me, but springing that on me wasn’t fair. She knows I don’t want to be touched, so massages and facials were off the table straight away.

  Sorry to disappoint, Mom. I thought.

  I didn’t like to make her unhappy, but she knew this wasn’t me.

  We got called to our stations and the girl promptly had us dip our fingertips in some warm water.

  Ok that wasn’t bad at all, but I wasn’t prepared for what came next. After a couple of minutes, she took one of my hands out and dried it. Then, she gave me a dirty look after looking over my nails, before torturing me with a file and what looked like wire cutters.

  “Ow!” I cried for about the twentieth time in just a few minutes.

  “Almost done with this hand.” The girl said, and I was close to telling her that she was done, period.

  After my other hand was slowly butchered, she asked me what color polish I wanted.

  “None.” I said. “I don’t like it.”

  “It’s part of the manicure.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t want polish. We’re not allowed it in school either.” I lied.

  “Ok then.” She said and then proceeded to bore me about cuticle care, and possibly having extensions done.

  Yeah, because I so wanted that!

  I know I sound like a brat, but honestly, I just didn’t want any of this at all. I came for my Mom, and the way the beauticians looked at me; you’d wonder why I hadn’t beaten them with their nail files.

  My Mom was too busy chatting to the girl tending to her nails to notice.

  “Mom, can we stop at the candy store? I want to get something for Logan.”

  “Ok, honey.” She said, wavin
g her hands about to dry her nails.

  I had to get her purse to pay for our ‘treatments’, if that’s what you’d call them, and then we drove to the shopping mall to the huge candy store.

  I wanted to get Logan’s favorite red twizzlers. They were a different brand from this store; they were nicer. I knew Logan would be able to tell where they were from instantly.

  Walking out, after buying twenty dollars worth of candy, I spotted a new store that sold natural ‘earthy’ gifts.

  I saw a woven bracelet that was different shades of brown and black. It was woven tightly with three small brown beads, evenly spaced, down the length. It was a friendship bracelet, and I knew Logan would like it. He already had two leather style bracelets. This one would look great with them.

  On the way home, my phone beeped and I saw that I had a text from Logan.

  Cue rapid heart rate and lustful thoughts…

  Check.

  L: How’s your spa session? :D

  C: Done. It was painful.

  L: How is a manicure painful? XD

  C: When the person doing it is a sadist! :(

  L: Haha! Are you going home now?

  C: Yeah. In the car now.

  L: Wanna come over to my house?

  My rapid heart skipped a beat as I read the text. Of course I wanted to go over! I also wanted to find out what his lips tasted like. I’d never kissed anybody before, and I really wanted Logan to be my first kiss.

  My only.

  Remembering that I needed to answer, I typed back quickly.

  C: Sure. Be there soon.

  L: K

  “Mom, could you…?”

  “Logan’s house?” She interrupted.

  “Yeah.” I said, my face heating.

  My Mom drove me to his house with a smile on her face,

  “Call me if you need me to pick you up.”

  “Sure.” I said, closing the door and walking up the path.

  The door opened before I even got there, and Logan stood looking like a magazine model ready for a shoot. His T-shirt was clinging to his chest, and the sleeves were wrapped around his biceps as his arm rested on the door frame.

  “Hi.” He greeted me with a huge smile, his eyes bright.

  He looked more than happy to see me, and I sighed internally wishing that it was true. That was until we got to the kitchen.

  “So… Let me see.” He said, holding out his hands. He wanted to see my nails.

  I put my bags on the counter and held my hands out, without putting them in his. I was too scared to. I had no choice then because he grabbed my hands and lifted them higher to look.

  “Nice.” He said, and I stopped breathing for a second when he looked into my eyes. “What exactly did they do?”

  I took a breath and explained, in gory detail, of the horror that was my manicure. Even the wire cutters that she used to cut my skin.

  Skin!

  “And then…” I complained. “…She wanted to put on nail polish. I swear she was reaching for red.”

  Logan laughed, still holding my hands.

  “Hey! Keep that up and you won’t get what I bought for you.”

  Logan had the brains to shut his trap.

  He dropped my hands, and I reached for my bag.

  First, I handed him the woven bracelet.

  “Wow, thanks!” He said, looking it over.

  “Here.” I took it from him, and I fastened it around his wrist. He was silent as I worked my fingers. “There.” I said when I was done.

  “Thanks.” His voice was barely a whisper.

  “Now, close your eyes and open your mouth.” I said, and his eyes widened slightly and he licked his lips.

  “Dooo iiit!” I said, pointing at him. He smiled and then opened his mouth. I put the end of the twirler in. “Ok, bite.”

  Logan bit down on the lace and chewed, a grin forming on his handsome face. I took the opportunity of his closed eyes to stare at his features.

  “You’ve been to the candy store.” He said, opening his amazing blue eyes.

  “I have.” I showed him the big bag of twizzlers. “They’re all yours.” I said, handing them over.

  “You’re the best.” He said, taking another bite. “Bite.” He said as he held the twirler out towards my mouth, feeding me some.

  “Mmm, yummy.” I said as I chewed.

  Logan put the same twizzler in his mouth and nibbled on the end.

  “So, you still refused a massage?” He asked, the corners of his mouth turning up.

  “Yeah. My Mom was a bit annoyed, but I didn’t want one.”

  “You never know; you might like it if you try it.”

  I had a feeling he was just teasing me, but there was something in his eyes that I wasn’t sure of. Like he was testing me about something.

  “I know I won’t.” I said. I didn’t like the idea, even though the touching was innocent.

  “Turn around.” He said, circling his finger.

  “What?”

  My heart was suddenly trying to break free, beating out of my chest.

  Is he going to do what I think he’s going to do?

  “Turn around.” He repeated, and I slowly turned my back to him.

  Logan lifted my braid and pushed it over my shoulder. Then, his hands rested on my shoulders, where they met my neck, and he pressed his thumbs into the muscles there and circled them; his fingers squeezing at the same time.

  I felt lots, and lots of tingling heat rush through me, settling between my legs, and my nipples tightened from his touch.

  “Is that so bad?” He asked softly, close to my ear, as my knees turned to jelly.

  My eyes were closed as I concentrated on every sensation he was causing in me.

  “No.” I answered, a little more breathy than I’d hoped.

  For a long time, I’d wanted Logan to touch me. Not in an obviously sexual way, but loving. Like a stroke on the cheek, a hug… but in ways that felt like it was because he liked me, not because we were just friends.

  Wiping the mud from my face was just that. Hugs in the past were like ‘bro’ hugs. You know, the one arm, quick hug, and then pulling away.

  I wanted two arms, holding each other, bodies flush kind of way.

  Logan’s hands moved down my back a little, and his thumbs continued to circle.

  “Whoa! What’s going on here?” Matt asked with a sly grin as he walked into the room.

  Neither of us had heard him come into the house. Logan’s hands dropped from my back.

  “Hi, cock-block.” He grinned and looked me over. “Am I disturbing your freaky time?”

  “Matt, what the fuck?!” Logan yelled.

  “It looks like I just walked in on your foreplay.” He laughed.

  “Let’s go to my room.” Logan sighed, and we started to walk out.

  “Just keep the noise down, huh?” Said Matt.

  “What?” I asked.

  “You know, from all your fucking!” He laughed again, pumping his hips as if he were having sex.

  “You’re disgusting!” I said. “Get a life, Matt.”

  “Leave my brother alone, cock-block.” He snarled before laughing again.

  *****

  “I’m sorry about him.” Logan began as we walked up the stairs. “I don’t know what his problem is.”

  “I do.” I snorted. “He thinks that you, being friends with me, is stopping you from hooking up with other girls.”

  Just saying those words made me feel sick.

  “That’s ridiculous.” He said with a frown. “I wouldn’t want to. Besides, us being friends has got nothing do to with him. Ignore him, I do.”

  Going into Logan’s room, I sat on his double bed that was in the center of the wall to the right of the door, under the window.

  He had a black, metal nightstand either side with lamps on that looked like a baseball with a white shade on top. His computer desk and chair were to the right of that, at the other end of the room; near to the door to hi
s bathroom.

  On the wall, at the foot of the bed, was his TV. He had various posters of rock bands and famous baseball players.

  He even had one of Babe Ruth during his last game on May 30th 1935, in Philadelphia.

  By his computer, he had a cork board with reminders for schoolwork and also photographs of us and the other guys. In one of them, we were making rock hand signs and pulling faces like we were rocking out. In another, we were using twizzlers as mustaches. There were others of him with the baseball team. I had taken those photos.

  “Do you want to play video games? Or, we could watch TV.” He asked as he pulled one of his pillows over his lap.

  Strange dude. I thought.

  “We could play Marvel Vs Capcom 2?” He suggested.

  “Ok.” I said and leant over to switch on the console and got our controllers.

  Logan cleared his throat and shuffled about, sitting at the end of the bed when I sat back up.

  The game came on, and we started playing.

  As time went on, I started to Kick Logans’ ass on the game.

  “How are you so good at this?” He asked, pressing the buttons furiously.

  “I’m not. You just suck… really bad.” I teased.

  “Really? Let’s see how good you are when you can’t see!” He said, suddenly bringing his arm around the back of my head and covered my eyes with his hand.

  “Logan!” I cried.

  “Not so good now, huh?” He laughed.

  “I can still kick your ass!” I pressed the buttons frantically and my character beat his. “I told you, you suck real bad.” I tried to hold in a laugh.