To say the next twelve hours of Mark’s life was painful, was a drastic understatement.  Paranoia mixed with guilt swarmed his subconscious. He kept his phone by him at all times, because what it all came down to was him potentially missing a phone call or text from a certain server from his usual diner (which would be the most tragic thing in the world).  Behind the excitement, a feeling of fear boiled in his stomach, fear for speaking with the devilishly attractive boy again and fear of thinking Jackson was, indeed, attractive.  Mark pondered over his subconscious dilemma on the couch with a bowl of chips in lap, eyes glued to the screen in front of him and cellular device in pocket.

Jackson on the other hand, was writing a rough draft for the text message he planned to send to Mark.  Struggling between ‘hi’, which sounded much too casual for Jackson’s taste and ‘hello’, which was too formal for them, considering he just got Mark’s phone number.  What didn’t occur to Jackson as he nervously continued, was that he was over thinking the entirety of the situation and it wouldn’t matter either way because Mark was (im)patiently waiting on the other line for some sort of confirmation or corroboration.

After a brain wracking twenty minutes, Mark felt his phone buzz and he nearly fell off the couch, spilling chips all over his lap.  He quickly slid the green button across his screen (shaking for an unknown reason).

“Hey!” Mark’s heart was beating in his chest, a half day's worth of anxiety pent up inside of him was released when he heard the boy on the other line.

“Jackson?”  he sat upright and cleared his throat, “What’s up, man?”

“Not much. I know I just saw you this morning, but I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tonight? Maybe we could get dinner or see a movie.”  Jackson’s voice was smooth and deep, and Mark envied it greatly.

“Tonight?  I’d love to, that’d be great.” he tried his best not to sound like a schoolgirl getting asked out by her crush, although the idea was pretty parallel to his thoughts, unbeknownst to him.  Little did Mark know, but on the other line, Jackson was having similar symptoms.

After confirming a time and place to meet (7:30 at the diner), Jackson ranted for a short while about his busy work day and Mark listened patiently.  Mark punctuated his stories with small agreements of “mmm of course” and “yeah, you’re right”, only to find himself becoming subdued in their conversation.  

When Jackson brought his speech about two senior citizens tantalizing him behind his back about loud qualities of himself, he apologized for keeping Mark on the phone so long, hurrying to explain that he still needed to get ready before they met, retracting from his initial boisterous behaviour.  Mark accepted his atonement and snuck in the words, “can’t wait to see you”, before he hung up, not wanting to hear the other boy’s reaction.

Mark hastily stood and started to clean up his area, sweeping the crumbs of the chips into the bowl before heading to his kitchen to throw them away.  Just before heading upstairs, he was greeted with a familiar giggle.

“I heard all of that,” Sarah sang, poking Mark in the rib cage.

“I’m just seeing a friend.” he answered, not in the mood to face his own giddy feelings, nor tell his younger sister.

“Your friend at the restaurant, right?”  she teased, “Last time I checked, he seemed more than just some guy you met there.”

“His name is Jackson, and we’re friends. End of story.”

“He’s the gay one though, right?”
 

Mark ignored her comments, walking to the bathroom to freshen up.  Sarah only followed him.

“He’s probably really cute if he’s gay.” she said quietly, earning a shove from Mark who was looking in the mirror.

“That’s a little rude,” he answered shrewdly.

“It’s a compliment.” she insisted, “Some time you should tell me how you get all of these guys to like you.”

“Sarah, I’m not gay.”

“Maybe you like both?”

“Not gay.”

“For the record-”

“Not gay!”