Nash didn’t know how to describe Easton’s touch. Not that he wanted to dedicate much time to thinking about it.
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As winter rain enveloped their surroundings for what was likely to be just five minutes, Easton wrapped his arms around Nash’s torso and lifted him into the air. The colour of Nash’s cheeks made them look like they were actively fighting against the cold.
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They were not alone, just two boys in a coed group of students waiting under the eave of the main school building. The sun had just finished rising, revealing the crisply-scented wet grass. Yellow-faced honeyeaters whistled their songs, occasionally and rudely interrupted by the boisterous laughter of the kookaburras. The school, a small collection of buildings with corrugated steel walls, had not opened yet.
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‘Put me down, you moron!’
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Easton obliged. He laughed before saying, ‘Sorry. I just missed you.’ His voice was high-pitched and silvery.
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Nash’s cheeks seemed to think the weather had suddenly gotten even colder. The other students were staring. Of course they were, since Easton still had his arms around Nash.
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With a giant scowl, Nash looked up at the taller boy with his big, dumb grin and his stupid hipsterish man bun. His cinnamon-brown wavy hair definitely never looked like it’d be soft to touch whenever he let it down. Oh, and his body spray with notes of fresh citrus and lavender? Not appealing at all.
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‘You can let go now,’ Nash grumbled. Once again, Easton obliged. Well, kind of. He placed a warm hand on Nash’s shoulder.
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‘I barely saw you over break. What were you up to?’ As Easton brushed his finger up and down his collarbone over his shirt, Nash started to piece together what his touch felt like. Aside from the warmth, it was soft but heavy. An image of one of those fluffy, animal-shaped heat bags dropped into Nash’s mind. ‘Nash?’
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How long had he been silently thinking? ‘Uh, yeah, I was busy with homework.’
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‘The whole break? Oh well, at least you’re here now.’
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Nash’s ears picked up some whispers. He couldn’t hear what the students behind him were saying, only the fact that they were gossiping under their breaths. Judging by his smile and loving puppy dog eyes, Easton didn’t seem to notice.
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A teacher finally walked up to the main building and unlocked it.
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At lunch break, Easton was late. Something about having to talk to a teacher. It was just Nash and his other friend Colby, a short boy with curly brown hair. Now that it was sunny, they sat by one of the benches outside.
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In between bites of his sandwich, Colby asked. ‘So are you and Easton, like, gay or something?’
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Nash swallowed a big chunk of his own sandwich, which went down his windpipe. He went into a coughing fit.
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‘You alright?’
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Nash nodded, still coughing. He took a few deep breaths and managed to calm himself.
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‘I’m not gay. He might be, though. He keeps touching me all the time.’
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Colby smirked. ‘I noticed.’
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‘It’s gross.’ Nash started throwing his hands about as he talked. ‘Has he never heard of personal space? He should know that not everyone is interested in stuff like that!’
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‘If it bothers you so much, tell him.’
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‘But what if he gets offended and stops wanting to hang out?’
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Colby shrugged. ‘Then fuck’im.’ Colby’s cold eyes and frown reminded Nash that they used to be each other’s only friend. Easton came to the school about a month ago and immediately attached himself to Nash.
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‘Fuck who?’ a familiar voice, which in no way sounded like butter, asked.
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Nash flinched as he turned his head towards Easton. Colby continued eating his lunch like usual.
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‘Uh, we were talking about a teacher.’
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‘Oh, speaking of which, we’ve got Commerce together next, right?’
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Nash sheepishly nodded. Great, another class for Easton to get all touchy-feely in. Easton sat on the bench between Nash and Colby, causing the latter to glare at him. He kept smiling, seemingly unaware.
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‘Oh, Nash, you’ve got something stuck in your hair.’
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Nash raised his hand to grab it but Easton was quicker, taking the leaf out. He then ruffled Nash’s hair a bit as if trying to return it to normal. Nash combed his fingers through his hair to actually return it to normal. His entire body felt like a giant heat bag had fallen onto it. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Colby smirking.
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Commerce class went as expected, with Easton watching the teacher with gradually closing eyes while holding in a yawn. Nash, on the other hand, sat with a straight back and keenly listened while taking notes at the speed of a black hole eating matter. He kept his full concentration until something that felt like a heat bag fell onto his shoulder. His entire body tensed up and he whipped his head around to see a sleeping Easton.
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‘The hell are you doing?’ Nash whispered, not wanting to alert the teacher. Easton didn’t respond verbally, only nuzzled his head against the shoulder. Nash sighed. He tried to pull his focus back to the lesson but that soft and heavy feel was much too distracting. Even more distracting were the hushed snickers surrounding him.
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The teacher, Mr Gardner turned away from his whiteboard to ask, ‘Did my class, perhaps, get replaced with a flock of kookaburras with their syrinx removed?’ He was always like this. Nash silently wondered if he would be happier teaching biology over commerce.
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Mr Gardner looked at the still asleep Easton, who now had his hands gently curled around Nash’s arm.
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‘And perhaps one of my students has been replaced by a koala short of a few eucalyptus leaves,’ the teacher said.
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The stares pierced Nash’s very soul. He felt like he was drowning in judgement and that, if he wanted to survive, he would have to push his way out.
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He tore his arm from Easton and pushed him away. He accidentally applied so much pressure that the other boy fell off his chair. Easton’s eyes jumped open. He looked around the room in a slumber-induced daze of confusion.
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‘I’m not a homo like you, so stop treating me like one!’
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The room went silent. Easton couldn’t piece together what happened, only that his friend had just called him a homo. Tears pooled together in his eyes, waiting to be released.
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Mr Gardner’s mouth was agape. He looked Nash up and down before staring into his eyes the way a parent would look at their delinquent child.
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‘I’m afraid you’ll both have to go to the principal’s office.’
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Principal King was a big, burly woman whose icy glare burned into students’ skulls. Easton kept fiddling with his shirt in his seat. At least he was keeping to himself. Nash sat with his arms crossed.
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‘So, care to explain your outburst, Nash?’ Mrs King asked, her voice a cigarette smoker’s rasp.
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‘He keeps touching me,’ Nash muttered.
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‘Louder.’ Nash repeated himself. Mrs King turned her gaze to the other boy. ‘Without his permission, Easton?’
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Easton stood up so fast it was almost like he jumped. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it! I thought I was just doing what friends do.’
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‘You mean what homos do,’ Nash murmured.
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King glared at him and he sunk further into his seat. ‘Nash, we won’t have any of that.’
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Nash stood up. ‘He never respects my personal space. He’s always getting in my business!’
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‘You could have just told me!’ Easton yelled. ‘I would have stopped if I knew I was making you uncomfortable.’
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‘Well maybe you should have thought I’d be uncomfortable before grabbing me and touching my hair!’
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‘Sit down!’ barked Mrs King. The two boys sat down in perfect sync. Mrs King rubbed the bridge of her nose. ‘Okay, it seems you both have things to apologise for.’
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Easton gave Nash the puppy dog eyes again. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to creep you out.’
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Nash was silent. Mrs King asked in a soft voice (or at least soft for her), ‘Nash, are you going to apologise?’ When Nash defiantly turned his head to the side, Mrs King said, ‘I think you both need some time to think over your actions. Maybe in detention.’
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Nash turned his head back at that. ‘What? But he’s the one who was being gross!’
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‘And you’re the one who won’t apologise.’
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Detention took place the next lunchtime, in a classroom devoid of any posters, art pieces or any kind of colour outside of grey. It seemed that this classroom was hand-picked just to remind rule breakers that prison was a possibility for them. The room contained just Nash, Easton and a constantly yawning teacher.
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The only sound to come from Easton as he sat at the desk was the crumple of paper as he furiously wrote the same phrase over and over. Nash leaned over towards Easton’s desk to read it.
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I will ask permission before touching people.
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Nash said, ‘You don’t need to write lines, you know. This isn’t America.’
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‘I’m doing this for myself so I remember,’ Easton replied without looking up from his page.
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‘I feel like you shouldn’t need a reminder.’
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‘Well, it’s not like I had friends to tell me this stuff.’
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‘You have… wait, what about your old school?’ Easton’s slumping body over the desk told Nash everything. ‘Sorry. And…’
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Nash placed a comforting hand on Easton’s shoulder but the other boy shifted his shoulder away. Nash put his hand back in his pocket and looked at the teacher, who was now asleep.
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‘Sorry for pushing you and stuff. I just… don’t like how I feel whenever you touch me.’
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Easton scoffed a laugh. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
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‘I don’t know. I just feel… weird.’
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‘So, uncomfortable? Look, I’m really so-’
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‘I like it.’
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Before Easton could put the pieces together, he bore witness to the sight of Nash hiding in his own arms like they were shields.
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Nash counted himself lucky that no one was checking his heart rate. He wished he could take those words and shove them right back in his mouth.
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‘Why the hell would you like…’ The pause felt like five detentions’ worth of time. ‘...Ohhhhh. So you’re the homo, not me.’ Nash said nothing, continuing to crawl into the shelter of his own arms. ‘Kinda weird, buddy. I didn’t mean it like that. So, like, when I touched your hair yesterday, you got turned on?’
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‘No!’ Nash yelped, finally lifting his head to turn it towards Easton. The teacher woke up at that and shushed the two.
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‘Sorry,’ the boys said in unison.
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‘It’s not like that!’ Nash claimed in a harsh whisper.
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‘Sure, mate.’
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Nash reached for Easton’s shoulders to shake him into being convinced, only to stop partway through upon seeing the grimace on Easton’s face and the flinching of his shoulders.
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The bell to signal the end of lunchtime rang. Easton and Nash had one other class together, but they didn’t speak to each other.
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The following day, Easton wasn’t at school. All Nash heard about it was the homeroom teacher casually saying, ‘Easton’s sick,’ while calling the roll.
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The day was filled with Nash staring at that tiny, ticking, second-counting hand on the clock. When he wasn’t focused on the time, he pondered his life choices up to that point.
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Meanwhile, Easton pondered the cause of his warm face. Was it just his cold? He lay in bed, images of his friend hiding behind his arms continuously burning itself into his mind before smouldering into dust. A minute or so after distracting himself with other thoughts, the images burst like fireworks into his mind again.
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Nash, with his no-nonsense black crew cut that created enough space to show all the emotions on his face, even when Easton struggled to read them. Nash, with his soft brown and green eyes reminiscent of fresh muntrie fruits, shining like apples every time he talked about Commerce class. Nash, with his thin lips that disappeared on the rare chance he smiled. Those smiles were like hidden little trinkets to the sick boy currently lying in bed thinking about another boy’s appearance.
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Easton may or may not have stayed up all night in bed, looking to the posters on his walls for guidance. By this point, his eyelids were heavy but he still couldn’t sleep. His sleepless state rendered him almost delirious but that wasn’t enough to convince him to close his eyes for more than a flicker of a second.
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By the call of the school bell at day’s end, Nash knew what he had to do. He ran to the grocery store and picked up a get well soon card. He had a feeling the illness would be gone too quick to warrant the card, but he figured it was a nice gesture.
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While waiting in line at the checkout, he spotted a heat bag in the shape of a puppy sitting on the clearance shelf nearby. He immediately grabbed it.
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Using a pen from his pencil case after purchasing his items, he wrote:
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Sorry for weirding you out. Get better soon so we can go back to normal.
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Nash raced to Easton’s place, a small, rusty tin house on a large block of land. He knocked on the door, which was opened by the boy’s mother. She was a stout, frequently smiling lady with rosy cheeks.
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‘Oh, Nash, nice to see you again. How are you?’
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Even from outside, Nash could smell fresh cookies through the door. He held out the card and the puppy heat bag.
‘I’m good. Could you give these to Easton?’
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‘Why don’t you come and see him?’
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Nash had to come up with a quick excuse. ‘What if I get sick?’
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‘He’s feeling a bit better now. So long as you don’t get too close to him, you should be fine.’
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Nash laughed awkwardly. ‘Of course.’ If only she knew.
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Easton’s room was covered in posters for crime movies, games and anime, mostly involving lawyers. Law books were squished together in no particular order on the bookshelf beside the bed. The books that couldn’t fit were stacked in a pile on the floor the height of a washing machine. The room smelled of sweat and that citrus and lavender body spray Easton always wore.
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Easton was covered up to his neck with his blue wool bedspread. Initially staring at the ceiling in thought, He turned his flushed face towards Nash and tensed up, his knuckles white from gripping the bedspread.
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‘Hey,’ he eventually said. His voice made him sound like he had something stuck in his throat.
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‘Um, hi.’ Nash delicately placed the card and the heat bag on the bedside table. ‘How are you feeling?’
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‘Aw, you got that for me?’ All that apprehension disappeared from Easton’s voice, replaced with heartfelt earnestness.
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Nash wondered if what he bought was too much but decided to just go with it.
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‘It reminded me of you.’
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‘What, like a dog?’
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‘Like a cute, soft puppy.’
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Easton’s eyes widened so much he looked similar to the anime and game characters on some of the posters. He looked away from Nash but the other boy could still see the blush on his face reddening further.
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Following a sigh, Easton asked, ‘Um, I know this is a weird thing to ask, but can you act all embarrassed again, like you were when we were in detention?’
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‘Why the hell do you-’
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‘I want to test something.’ The puppy dog eyes returned. ‘Please?’
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Nash couldn’t say no to that face. ‘How?’
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‘You know, the thing with the arms.’
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‘So…’ He tried to remember what he did. ‘...like this?’ Well, at least Nash already felt the emotion Easton requested from him. He just had to show it.
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He kneeled by the bed and rested his arms on top of it, blushing already from the closeness to Easton. He dove into his own arms.
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‘Well, I guess that settles it,’ Easton said. ‘You’re cute when you’re embarrassed.’
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Nash looked up with a scowl. ‘Don’t tease me.’
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‘I’m serious.’ Easton’s face matched his words. After a moment, he chuckled, the surprisingly deep sound resonating through Nash’s heart. ‘I never noticed before ‘cause I thought I was just seeing you as a friend.’ He laughed again as if that very notion was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.
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Nash tried to tell his heart not to leap, but the damn thing wouldn’t listen. He turned around and sat against the bed.
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‘So… what now?’
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Easton went quiet for a moment. ‘I don’t know. Maybe we could try-’
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‘I’m not kissing you.’
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‘Aww, why not?’
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‘Get better first.’
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The chuckle came back. ‘Fair enough.’
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On a morning a week later, Easton ran towards Nash with open arms. As he stopped next to Nash, he dropped his arms.
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‘Uh, can I?’
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Nash smiled and nodded. ‘Thanks for asking.’
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Easton wrapped his arms around Nash’s shoulders and held him tight. Nash sheepishly placed his arms around the other boy’s waist. They stayed like that a few seconds longer than socially acceptable for friends.
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As Colby passed them, he said, ‘Gay.’
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Easton and Nash let go of each other and laughed like they had just talked behind someone’s back and saw that same person walk past them.
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Colby raised an eyebrow before continuing his walk as if nothing happened.
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During recess, Nash told Colby that he and Easton had to do something first but that they’d be right back.
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What did they have to do? Kiss behind the gym, of course! Each time their lips touched, Nash’s lips tingled. He stroked Easton’s hair and basked in the satisfaction that he was right about it being soft. Easton’s citrus and lavender body spray was as pleasant as always. His racing heart felt like it was being pulled by a string closer and closer to Easton.
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Following a few minutes of making out, Easton began standing up but Nash grabbed his arm.
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‘Stay with me a little longer. Please.’
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After realising how he sounded, Nash buried his head into Easton’s arm, his cheeks burning.
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Easton sat back down, grinning at Nash’s red face. They sat there for a while, forgetting about everything around them until the bell rang.
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