Out in the End Zone (Out in College 2)

“Next week is good,” he said with a frown. He joined me at the door but tugged at my belt loop before I could open it. “Hey, are you mad or something?”

“Why would I be?”

“I don’t know. You brought up Rory, not me.”

I winced. “I know. I just—the Rory thing is…weird. I don’t like the guy.”

“It’s over, so don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah.” I nodded and put my hand on the doorknob. Then I turned to face him and shook my head wildly. “That’s not really it. I—that kiss was intense. Or was that just me?”

“It was very intense.” Mitch went still and licked his lips. “PG-13 for sure. It doesn’t have to be like that on the post. We can tone it down a bit or even take it out altogether.”

“No. I liked it. I’m…” I let out a rush of air and then shrugged awkwardly. “I’m gonna tell you a secret. No one knows this. And I mean no one. Not even Derek.”

“You can trust me.”

I studied him for a moment thoughtfully. “I lied about kissing a guy.”

“Okay…”

I inclined my head and rambled on in what had to sound like the world’s longest run-on sentence. “When I was thirteen, I was at a party and a group of kids decided to play Spin the Bottle. I didn’t know how it worked, so like a true dumbshit, I volunteered to go first. I spun the bottle and said a silent prayer it landed on Emily Korbel. I had a mini crush on her. We kissed once at the homecoming dance in a dark corner of the gym. One of those lip to lip things. No big deal. I was hoping for another shot but instead…it landed on Brian Markus. Everyone went crazy. They hollered for us to ‘kiss, kiss, kiss’ and I didn’t know what to do. I froze. But Brian seemed okay with it. He whispered something to me like, “Do it fast and get it over with.” So I did and…it wasn’t so bad at all. I actually kind of liked it. His lips were soft, and he smelled like peppermint. I thought about it nonstop for years. That kiss fueled a few memorable jack-off sessions. I always wanted to tell him that but I didn’t dare. Do you understand?”

I went quiet and willed Mitch to intervene and tell me he got what I was trying to say. Of course, I didn’t really understand myself, but…that didn’t have to mean anything.

“Evan, you were in junior high,” he said patiently. “No one’s going to hold a Spin the Bottle gay kiss against you. It doesn’t mean you’re more like me either, so if that’s your big secret, don’t let it keep you up at night.”

“That’s not it at all,” I huffed and pushed my fingers through my hair in frustration. “Look, I-I’ve done it more than once with another guy too.”

“You did?” he asked, clearly confused.

“But…it never felt like this. I liked kissing you. I liked it yesterday at lunch, and I liked doing it a few minutes ago even more. Your lips are soft and sweet, and you smell better than peppermint. That’s all.”

Mitch opened his mouth and closed it twice. “Thank you.”

“Next week, same day?” I asked, turning the doorknob.

“Um, Tuesday won’t work. Let’s say Thursday. I have to cheer at the men’s volleyball game that night, but I should be home by eight. Fair warning, if you get here early, you risk having tea and cookies with my grandmother again.”

“I don’t mind.”

Mitch’s smile morphed into a radiant grin that poured from him like sunshine. I stared for a moment, admiring his golden hair and pretty eyes. Fuck. No, that adjective wasn’t strong enough. His eyes were beautiful. Hell, he was beautiful and…

And I was seconds away from creeping myself out. What was wrong with me?

“You’re a good guy, Ev. I’ll see you next time. You can get to your car through the side gate. It’ll lead you to the street. Park in the alley behind the garage next time. Oh…and wear black,” he said as I stepped onto the landing.

“Why black?”

“So we can coordinate,” he replied matter-of-factly.

“No way. If we were a real couple, I’d go out of my way not to match with you,” I huffed.

Mitch chuckled. “Not matching. Coordinating. It’s a lighting and general aesthetic thing. We want to look visually pleasing on film. I can always change when you get here, but it’s already going to be late and I don’t want to waste any time.”

“Hmph. I’ll probably forget.”

“I’ll remind you.”

“How long can it possibly take to film a ten-to-fifteen-minute segment?”

“A couple of hours.”

“What? How?” I asked incredulously.

“There’s a lot to it! Okay, maybe it won’t take that much time. I’m not sure. I’ll try to set up the lighting ahead of time, and we can rehearse a little so we’re both comfortable. But once I press record, it’s pretty free-flowing, which means we’ll make mistakes, and I’ll have to do a lot of editing. In this case, more is better. I don’t want to be left with five minutes of nothing exciting.”