Super Crush (BxB)

Clay in the Pottery Room

It is my laugh that gets Clay's attention. I had assumed he would be crouched over a pottery wheel, spinning a lop-sided bowl or something, but instead, he is molding a hulking figure out of, well, clay. This is the detail that makes me laugh.

Clay is surprisingly good at sculpting clay. I find this thought hilarious for some reason. And in true lameo fashion, my presence is announced by an almost childish giggle that I immediately regret letting slip.

His eyes flick to me from across the high-top modeling table before returning to his work. He continues manipulating the hunk of earth into what seems to be an arm for his statue. When it looks like I am not going anywhere, he pauses and lowers his earphones.

With a sigh, Clay says, "Why am I not surprised? My comment shook you that much, Brass?"

Brasso. Brass-oh. I can't tell if he is saying my name wrong on purpose or not.

"It didn't shake me at all," I lie. "You didn't give me a chance to tell you that I have you all figured out too." Another lie.

This gets his attention. He puts the scraper down and slides his earphones to his neck. Closing the space between us, Clay comes to my side of the table and leans against it, crossing his arms.

"Okay. Let's hear your analysis then," he challenges.

I clear my throat and get ready to describe the bad-boy type from every teen movie out there.

"Well, you are the new guy. Probably the new guy often. Based on your demeanor and appearance, you are a natural trouble-maker. Your last school probably couldn't handle you, so you had to start over again."

Clay smiles, an annoyed but sexy smile. Then he leans in real close.

Do I have a sign on my head today that says, Please pop my personal bubble?

"I see why people want to beat you up."

I feel his breath on my neck. The goosebumps make me forget about my bubble.

"Because I am right," I retaliate.

"You couldn't be more wrong."

"Do tell, big man," I reply.

He breaks our showdown and reclaims his spot at the workstation.

"I did get expelled from my last school," Clay says flatly. "But I am sure you heard that already. The way news travels at this school is frightening."

"Absolutely."

"But, I had previously gone to that school all of my high school career. Getting into an art academy in New York is nearly impossible, I would have never done anything to mess that up. But at the end of last year, there was a major accident at school–an explosion. Thankfully no one got hurt. I took the fall for it to keep my friends out of trouble. Went to juvie for three months and then enrolled here, as far as I could get from my last school–under a 90-minute train ride, that is."

Wow. I am not sure what to say. His candor is surprising.

Without looking up from his work, Clay launches into his observation about me. "Noah Brasso has it all together. Mommy and Daddy are so proud of him and his grades. He can say and do what he wants because his best friend is the class president and some random sport captain. And he wants nothing more than a full ride to a New York university so he can continue to run around the city pretending that he and his BFF are the kings of the Big Apple."

I laugh. Like a real, genuine laugh. Clay cocks his head. This makes me laugh more.

"Damn," I finally say. "I thought you'd be better at that. Though this does make me question what kind of image I'm putting out there, most of your hypothesis is wrong."

I know I have his full attention now.

"Though Abe is my best friend, in no way do I think I'm as cool as him or immune to the pitfalls and posers of high school. Also, I want to graduate and get as far from this city as possible. Like, Northern California far. I want a new start and I feel like going across the country will help. I need some distance, or I will never be able to live my own life. And it's just my mom and me. My dad died a few years ago."

I can't tell which part has thrown Clay for a loop. His eyes look sad and for some reason, it seems as if he is going to apologize.

"A minotaur?" I ask, preventing any other conversation on the topic.

"Uh, yeah. Actually." His sights return to the statue he is crafting. "How did you know?"

"His body looks like it is going to be huge, but not in a hero's classic 'V' shape. His stance looks aggressive, almost menacing. Plus, the nubs you started on the head look like they are going to be horns." I grin. "I'm a mythology nerd."

The light seems to return to his honey-topaz eyes.

"Yeah. I have always thought the minotaur was cool. Misunderstood. Theseus is considered the hero of the story, but the minotaur is a victim of his parents' bad decisions. He wasn't asked to be born differently. Yet he was trapped in a maze. Hidden away from society by his own father."

Clay looks up quickly as if he said too much. Is he blushing?

"I am rambling," he mutters.

"Nah. It's cute. You are a secret nerd," I say.

"You think the psychological despair of a mythological creature is cute?"

"You say, psychological despair. I say, daddy issues."

"You know all about daddy issues, don't you?" he says. A mischievous grin forms on his face.

"Wouldn't you like to know, big man?" I reply with a silly eyebrow dance.

Clay playfully throws the scraper at me. I snicker.

"Time to go, Brass. This artist needs his space," he says with a wink.

I listen and I leave him to his craft. I am not sure I will see Clay the rest of the day, but I can't ignore the fact that the energy between us is definitely a vibe. 

I hope he feels it too.