The smell of coffee could probably wake me from my grave. I rolled over in the soft sheets, my face turning in the direction of the delicious waft. I ...ould almost feel my body tensing from the withdrawal. I needed professional help.“Good morning.”I opened one eye, squinting because it was way too fucking bright.“Says who?” I grumbled.“Says me. Do you want some coffee or not?”“Help me up before it gets cold. I can’t move.”“You’re such a baby.” Wes laughed as he slipped an arm under me and sat me. I always made excuses to pass by, to feel a connection and to see who was there. It didn’t take long for a boy at those meetings to notice that I had past several times and was always sneaking looks their way. Days past, weeks even with nothing more than a glance here or there, our eyes locking and maybe even blushing. He later told me that he was afraid to approach me even though he was open about his sexuality because of my image. I later told him how I dreamed that he would.It seemed as if. More

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