He looks into my eyes and jealousy stirs in my chest at the thought of him with someone else. Memories of him with that random guy against the wall at the party last year flick through my mind. I sigh at myself, frustrated that I’ve lost my chance.
When he says he’ll come with me to the bathroom, I’m confused but I try not to show it. I ruminate and try to find hidden meaning in every word he’s just said to me as we walk together.
I watch him through the mirror as I leave the stall. I’m glad he doesn’t see me looking, but then he looks up and our eyes meet. I lose my dignity and trail my eyes over every movement he makes. I lick my lips and feel the muscles in my stomach tie themselves in a knot. I turn and lean my lower back against the bench top. My mind searches for all the things I can do, alone with James, just us two in this bathroom. And all the things I could not do. I could walk out like nothing has ever happened and we’re strangers to each other. I could pretend that my adolescent wet dream isn’t in this empty, candle-lit bathroom with me and that he isn’t looking at my belt like he’s planning how to remove it. I could pretend that I don’t want him. Or I could not pretend.
My decision is made.
“James.” I call.
I’ve said the name so many times, I’ve shouted it, whispered it, breathed it; but the syllables sound entirely different on my tongue as I taste them for the first time in a while.
James walks painfully slowly towards me. I reach out to caress his shoulder and curl my fist into his crisp white dress-shirt.
“Max- you just,” he breathes, “you can’t do this to me.”
My first name on his voice for the first time sends me somewhere else. I promise myself not to hurt him as he confesses our last four years in six words.
I switch positions so I can plant kisses on his neck and chest. When he flips us around, his dominance sends a thrill down my spine and I want him to do whatever he wants with me. When we kiss, everything makes sense and my hands travel everywhere I can reach, pulling him closer into me and losing myself in him.
When we finish, we embrace each other, breathing shakily, in the bathroom stall. I didn’t know if we had spent five minutes together or two hours, but I got dressed quickly, stumbling out of the tiny stall to give James some space. He was buttoning up his shirt, when I finally came crashing back down to earth.
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