Even though the summer was about to come to an end, the air still kept the heat and humidity that had come months before. Trey, standing among his friends, felt the tingle of a lonely drop of sweat sliding down from the back of his neck, sneaking up under his shirt collar and down his back.
The queue seemed never to end; they had been there for over ten minutes, trying to get into that club that took great pride in pounding the eardrums of the attendees. Trey, hands deep in his pockets, gave Sanna a disapproving stare. She had had the idea of "making the most" of the last weekend before entering university.
"Don't give me that look," Sanna said. "We'll have a good time."
"Yeah, sure," Trey answered, rolling his eyes.
"Come on, Trey," Mike said, "don't be such a party pooper."
"You know I don't like these places," Trey said.
After another ten very long minutes standing, Trey showed his ID card to the large security guard, who stepped aside to allow him access to the inside. A breath of air blew through his hair as soon as he'd crossed the threshold.
"At least the air conditioning works," Trey said as he walked at a brisk pace, Sanna, Mick, Reuben and Eli behind him.
A large dance floor took up most of the club. Numerous young people were already dancing with great enthusiasm, lights of a thousand colours flashing at full speed among them, while the thundering music reverberated on the walls and penetrated deep into Trey's skull. The next day, he'd have a headache so strong that it wouldn't even let him get up.
As his friends headed for the dance floor, Trey had already set his destination: in the background, away from the crowd, a small area equipped with a couple of fluffy sofas was waiting for him. Luckily, everyone was so busy dancing that the sofas were completely empty. Sighing deeply, Trey dropped onto one of them as he watched his friends dance, laugh and drink.
In front of the dance floor, there was a long bar, filled to the brim with people fighting to order their drinks while the two bartenders ran back and forth, trying to serve everyone. Trey scanned the bar with his eyes, as he used to do when his friends dragged him to that hateful place.
His eyes met the gaze of a young man with green eyes and dark skin, about his own age. Trey felt himself blush. You're so stupid, Trey, he said to himself. Of course, that guy probably wasn't looking at him. He was, just like Trey, looking around. Trey looked away from the guy and focused his attention on Mick and Eli, who were laughing and dancing awkwardly, their bodies unnecessarily clasped together. There was no sign of Reuben. In all probability, he had already found the girl he was going to spend that night with.
As he watched his friends, Trey couldn't help but notice a strange feeling. It was as if someone was… watching him. Instinctively, his eyes drifted to the side and once again, they came upon that guy. It seemed that, after all, he was looking at him. Trey smiled shyly and watched as the green-eyed boy's lips curled up as well.
Trey felt his pulse racing. That boy was devilishly handsome. Tall, athletic, with a powerful jaw that bathed in the shadow of a beard that hadn't been shaved in a couple of days. Can someone like him be really interested in me?
"Trey!" a voice beside him shouted, startling him. He immediately looked away from the piercing gaze of the boy at the bar.
"Hi, Sanna," Trey answered.
"Hey, why don't you come dance with me? Reuben's left god knows where, and Mick and Eli are so very affectionate with each other and I'm feeling a bit out of place, to be honest."
"Sanna, I hate dancing. I hate being seen dancing," he said.
"Oh, come on! No one's going to notice you, everyone's just doing their thing."
"No, I don't like dancing, Sanna," Trey insisted.
"Have a drink at least," Sanna said, pointing to the gigantic glass she was holding in her hand, half full of a dark liquid and lots of ice.
"Not now. Later, if I feel like it," Trey replied.
Sanna glared at him silently, shaking her head gently. Then she shrugged and left him alone again, returning to the dance floor.
Trey looked back at the guy by the bar, but could not find him. His eyes wandered until they located him: he had left the bar and was heading for the dance floor. More specifically, he seemed to be walking straight to…
Sanna.
Trey let out a deep sigh and lolled on the sofa. Of course, he hadn't been looking at him. It was Sanna who had aroused his interest. Obviously. Trey had been a fool to think it was him that guy was interested in.
The man and Trey's friend started dancing together and Trey could see the guy leaning over Sanna and saying something in her ear. The girl smiled and said something back. The man then returned to the bar, raised two fingers and asked the bartender for something. The bartender nodded, turned around and poured the contents of two cans into two large glasses. The young man held a glass in each hand and started to walk…
…headed to the couch where Trey was sitting.
"Hi there. It's Trey, right?" the low voice of the guy said once he had stopped in front of Trey, who felt a slight dizziness and the unbridled beat of his heart. "Do you want some?" he said, offering him one of the glasses. "It's just lemonade. Your friend says you don't like alcohol very much."
"Oh yes, thank you," Trey muttered, accepting the glass and looking for Sanna's glance from behind the green-eyed man. From the dance floor, her friend looked at him smiling, the thumbs of both hands extended in the air and moving her lips as if to say the words "handsome, right?"
"Can I have a seat?" the boy asked, pointing to the sofa.
"Er… yeah, yes, sure, have a seat," Trey replied, stepping aside. Smiling, the boy sat down next to Trey, who immediately felt the scent of his skin. He smelled like moss, almonds and ginger.
Silently, unable to find the right words, Trey took a sip of the lemonade. Cold, sweet and slightly tart, the drink seemed to bring an almost immediate sense of relief. His heart was no longer beating so hard, at least.
"You don't like to dance?" the green-eyed guy said.
"Not really, no," Trey answered.
"Me neither. My friends are out there dancing their feet off," he said, pointing with a vague hand movement to the dance floor.
"Just like mine."
Trey took another sip of his lemonade, watching from the corner of his eye as the boy looked at him with a smile.
"You have beautiful eyes," he said.
Trey felt his entire body temperature rise several degrees. He forgot he was drinking and had a coughing fit. The boy immediately gave him a gentle pat on the back.
"Are you all right?" he said, as Trey's coughing fit subsided. He did not take his hand off his back.
"Yes, I just choked a little," Trey replied, crying slightly.
"Did it make you nervous, being told you have beautiful eyes?" he asked, his lips curling into a smile through which gleaming white teeth sparkled at Trey.
"It's not something I hear often," Trey said, shrugging and praying that the poor lighting in the room would help him hide his glowing face.
"Well, it's true," he insisted, "they're kind of blue, but… if the light hits you just right, like now, they're more like violet, aren't they? I've never seen anyone with eyes like yours.
"Well, thank you. Yours are very beautiful too," said Trey. He hadn't overlooked the fact that the green-eyed guy still hadn't taken his hand off his back.
Trey continued to drink his lemonade, casting furtive glances at the green-eyed boy, whose hand seemed fixed to Trey's back.
"Well, tell me about yourself," the young man said after a brief pause.
"I don't really know what to say," Trey replied, shrugging. "I'm starting university next week."
"Oh, yeah?" the green-eyed guy said, moving closer still to Trey, who felt the boy's hand slip away from his back just to find his knee.
"Yes, I'll be doing Psychology," Trey confirmed, shaking as he felt the boy's warm fingers gently squeezing his leg.
"Does it bother you?" he asked, referring to the hand resting on his knee.
"No."
"If it bothers you, I can stop."
"No, I'm fine." The green-eyed guy smiled.
"Trey."
"Yes?"
"To be honest, I've been watching you since you got here. And I kind of want to kiss you."
"What?" Trey spat, tightening his grip as the boy's hand ran up his thigh. His cheeks, his nose, his ears, his whole face was on fire.
"I feel like kissing you," the boy repeated, tilting his head to Trey's and searching for his lips, brushing them lightly. Trey was paralysed, unable to process what was happening. He was absolutely convinced that this could only be a dream.
And yet, when his hands found the young man's face and he felt the soft roughness of his beard on his fingers, Trey was confident that it was real, it was happening, he wasn't dreaming it. He pressed his lips against the man's, a wonderful warmth coursing through his body.
Don't let this end…