Re: I Think You're The Same As Me: The Story of Trent and I
I know a lot of you were most likely thinking that Volume Four was never going to happen, but here it is.
I more or less wrote this three times before I figured out where I wanted to take it. I tried to make it as understated as possible as that is how I like it, but I think this one is a little cliché and over the top.
I down play it as best I can. I hope you like it.
Volume Four
Time wears on and days grow shorter. The sun runs faster and night creeps slower; especially for me.
I can’t open my windows anymore. Those Texas afternoons have been run off by the bitter tastes of winter. The cold weather bites at my skin forcing me to stay shut up away from the World. The weather mimics my life...
We have not spoken in a month. Are you surprised? I’m not.
Every time I see him in the hall or at track practice I go right for him with my eyes, but he never meets them. I miss him so much. I miss talking to him, joking around with him, just being near him in general.
In the past month without him I slowly began to recognize that I need Trent in my life. I’m still so very confused about how I feel about him, but I know I haven’t been the same since he stopped talking to me. From time to time I think about saying something, but I never do. I should. Maybe he is just waiting on me to do it first.
I’m at our track practice and feeling pretty confident in my pair of (very short) shorts as I finish my stretches.
They’re orange and I looked ridiculous in them, but I was wearing a jock strap under them and this set up usually made me feeling pretty good about my body. I would usually worry about getting an erection when I first joined from looking at all these guys in their shorts, but I was wearing so little and it is always so cold by the afternoon that this is never a problem. If that isn’t enough I just look up and focus on my breathing as I run and I’m able to control myself. However from time to time I do feel my penis fill with blood at the thought of being with Trent. Only Trent though. It hurts me.
I’m forced to stare at him run. He is a fantastic runner. His legs are amazing. His lower legs are very dark which journey up to what are his very white thighs. White as a jar of cool whip, but I still find them very sexy. They have the perfect amount of hair on them, just enough to run your hands through as you move them up his leg. They are fairly muscled legs, but no more than mine are. Even still he is much faster than I am.
It hurts me to watch him run, honestly. I can’t stop picturing myself with him and I can feel my dick rubbing up against my cup and it makes me knot up with pain. I have to forget about him for now. I have to focus on my running. As I turn around to begin I noticed him pass me to take his start.
“Hey…” I said, before I even realized I has said it.
He takes a quick glance back at me and then forces his eyes to the ground as quick as he could. Almost as if he was embarrassed that he had heard me. He began running. He starts off and I follow quickly behind. I decided enough is enough. Trent is one of my best friends and I am tired of not talking to him.
“Trent.”
He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even acknowledge me. He quickens his pace as I try and stop him and get his attention.
“Trent….listen,” I say as I gasp for oxygen and try desperately to keep up with him.
“Trent I can’t keep up with you...”
I don’t stop as he tries to break away from me. I manage to stay right behind him. I’m not going to be ignored any longer. This is bullshit and I am sick and tired of him doing this to me.
I know how to get his attention.
I dig deep into myself and kick my legs into a gear I rarely take them to. I close the gap and pounce on him from behind. We both hit the track fairly hard and I try my best not to hurt him, but I was flaming mad.
“Damn it, Damon!”
“I’m sick of this shit, Trent. Why and the hell have you been ignoring me?”
We both stand up. He looks at me in frustration and then he observes his elbow which he had fallen on when I stopped him.
“You know why.”
“Well yeah I guess I do, but you said I was your friend and that you would never tell anyone.”
“Well I haven’t have I, Damon?”
“No…but you didn’t say that you wouldn’t talk to me anymore. I didn’t know that was a part of it.”
“Well…I’m sorry. It’s just weird knowing your best friend wants to get in your pants.” He was staring firmly at the ground now.
“I’m sorry Trent. I didn’t want you to know. Things just got messed up. I would change it if I could,” I lie.
“…its fine,” he said back as he looked at anything and everything, but me.
“Well I’m just tired of you ignoring me.”
I look down at his elbow and see it begin to bleed. I lick my thumb and put my hand around his arm and begin to rub the blood and dirt off his elbow. He moves a little closer as I do, but he doesn’t seem comfortable and pulls away before I finish.
“I have to go anyways. Tell coach I got sick,” he said as an obvious excuse to get away from the situation.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow!” I said as he walked off.
I didn’t get a reply.
A few weeks pass and I find some success. Every once and awhile I catch his eyes in the hall way.
He really knows how to dress. He still has nothing on me, but he gets by better than all of his ‘jock’ friends.
He was standing there holding his binder near the classroom. He was wearing these running shorts that really fit nicely. You could make out the curve in his butt and when he walked you could see them move with his legs and every once and a while it would give him this little wedge and you could see his crack through his shorts at the top of his butt. I love that more than anything, it always makes me want to leave school and go home and beat off until I have nothing left.
His shirt was a v-neck on that day and it was a soft red that made him look, of course, very buff. His hair was the usual uncombed mess without his old baseball cap, but it did nothing to his appearance as he looked absolutely angelic with his blond locks flowing around his eyes. Those deep blue thoughtful eyes.
He turned to head to class and I looked at him and smiled. He looked back. He didn’t smile, but his eyes became narrower. Not out of anger, but it was almost as if he knew that simple acknowledgement meant more to me than any specific reaction. His face became softer and more peaceful looking when he saw me.
That was the last time I saw him that day. The next day I come to school and everyone is gathered at the front of the room and I heard Trent’s name amongst the gossip.
“What’s going on, where is Mrs. Harrison?” I said with annoyance in my voice. I really can't stand the kids in my English class....
“Trent’s mom was in a really bad car accident this morning. Trent just left to go see her,” one of them said.
I was in shock. I love his mom. She is one of the nicest woman I’ve ever met. She is like my mother in a lot of ways. She has been a mother to me when I cut myself playing outside with Trent, she has fixed me meals when I stay over, and she is just a terrific person. Trent loves her so much and I’m sure he is dying on the inside right now.
I can’t sit here. So I find out where they took her and leave. I drive to the hospital and lie to some nurses to find where she is. I told them I was her son.
I get to the waiting room and see Trent sitting in a chair. His face was hid in his palms in an attempt to escape the thoughts that I'm sure must fill him to the brim. He was hunched over and I could hear him crying and I could see his body twitching and shaking in despair. I say nothing even when I take a seat next to him.
I put my hand on his back and he looks up. He stares at me for just a split moment and then looks at the ground for another. You could see his feelings as every ounce of pride he has melt away on his pained looking face. He continues to sob even louder. What happens next I would have never predicted.
Without a beat he throws his arms around me and continues to express the hurt and fear he has.
“I love her so much, Damon. She has to make it. I can’t live without her,” he says through his red tear drenched face.
I begin to cry as he buries his face into my shoulder. I can feel every twitch and shake in his body. To this day, this was the most vulnerable state in which I have ever seen a person.
“I’m here for you Trent. I’m right here,” I said back to him as I leaned my head against his as we sat there in utter uncertainty...
this story is too good to let it end like this...
