ALISTAIR

I felt sick to my stomach, like I had just rode one of the most twisty high-up ride ever right after finishing a hotdog eating contest. Or like I had just downed a can of straight SPAM and ran a mile. Or I had been on a plane and had been thrown off only to land in a huge pile of old breadsticks from Pizza Hut covered in mold and muck. Or like I had- actually, I think you get it. But I'm probably not feeling that way because of what you think.

I'm not enduring extreme waves of nausea because of the kiss with Jonathan, but at the same time I am. It wasn't exactly the kiss/kisses, because those were amazing and pure bliss, at least that's what my body says. But my brain? It's screaming at me that no, it was disgusting, awful, and a disgrace against humanity. Guys shouldn't kiss other guys. It's just wrong.

Isn't it? I mean, that's what everyone says, that liking someone of the same gender is bad? Wouldn't my parents want to disown me for being it? Now that I thought about it, they never really said outright that they were against gays, but...

I froze. What if my parents would be alright with it? But how am I to know for certain that I actually am queer? I mean, I've never been really attracted to girls before Jonathan, but the same could be said for guys. I kinda always guessed I was either heterosexual or asexual, in all honesty. But I didn't really like anyone other than Jonathan, but I don't know if I'm ready to admit I like him. It's too complicated.

As I sat in my car that was parked in front of Starbucks, I inhaled deeply through my nose. I was so confused. I pulled out my phone, figuring I would do some researching. Scrolling through my Safari search engine, I tapped on something that sounded similar to what I felt like. The website was Urban Dictionary, which I felt was pretty reliable.

Demisexuality is a part of the asexual spectrum and is not invalid sexuality. It means that the person is unable to feel sexual attraction to another person unless there is a strong friendship between them. Some people may think that this is just 'hetero people searching for attention' but it really isn't. Demi from greek means half that means you're halfway asexual halfway whatever-you-are. There are Demi-hetero, demi-homo, demi-bi, demi-pan and so much more.

I gulped. That sounded about right. I guess I was demi-homo? I groaned, running my hand through my hair. All this was giving me a massive migraine. I was probably overthinking this all. Still scrolling through the internet and sipping on my grande Maple Pecan Latte, I was surprised when my phone dinged as a message sent through. It was from Julian.

I froze. Marty's Exotic Playland was like this huge strip club that had everything- pole dancers, lap dancers, hookers- and they were known to not only have female staff, but male too. After just figuring out that I might be a demisexual, it didn't sound too appealing, but this might help me clear up my thoughts and know for sure. So, I did the stupidest thing possible and reply back with him sending me one back too.

Guess it was time to get this show on the road...

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I pushed up close against Julian, the smell of alcohol thick in the air. Colored strobe lights flashed, loud music blared from huge speakers, people were grinding against each other and I swore I was about to have a seizure. I looked down at my glass of beer. Flashes of memories of what happened the last time I had received large intakes of alcohol flared behind my eyes. Little bits of me being dragged up the stairs to Jonathan's apartment were mixed in too. The thought of drinking it now made me a bit sick.

I sat it aside on the bar and decided to follow Julian as he made his way towards the stage where the pole dancers danced. It was kinda of entrancing as they twisted their beautiful sleek bodies around poles. It reminded me of the way a panther moved, smooth and assured. The way sweat glistened in their bodies and how they lifted their bodies up onto the pole held me in awe.

I glanced over at Julian. A deep frown had etched into his face as he stared at one dancer in particular. I followed his gaze and squinted. The person looked so familiar, like I had seen them before.

Julian seemed to notice I had seen him. He scratches behind his ear before speaking. "Sorry, it's just that's a replacement dancer. I know the person who usually dances there and-" I suddenly gasped.

The pole danced was Jonathan. The Jonathan Miller. A lump built up in my throat. How could I have not noticed it sooner?

I turned to Julian, sure I was a S pale as a sheet. He only looked half concerned, a bit too tipsy to realize why I was surprised.

"J-Julian, I've gotta g-go," I stammered, my eyes flickering towards the exit sign.

I pushed through the mass of people, leaving Julian behind before he could say anything else. I froze as a felt a pair of eyes in my back. Sneaking one spare look back, my eyes met with his. Jonathan's hazel eyes seemed to be an unusual and beautiful dark blue in the light, and I'm surprised I could see it from here. As I stared at him, he turned away, a faint blush brushed across his cheekbones. I gulped and turned away, finding my way out of the treacherous club.

$$Shabang! Anyone surprised? I kind of was. 😳 Did you guys like the little message thing I added in? Nice touch, right? I don't know. Mixed feeling about this chapter, mostly good though. Anyway, thank you guys so much for all the love and support this book is receiving and I just wanted to give you guys a big thank you! 😘$$