Private Diary: 11 Apr 2022
I just have to share what happened to me today. But first, some backstory.
You could say that I made the most of the pandemic. First, I started selling my sexy stories and, to my surprise and delight, people actually started buying them. Not huge numbers of people, but enough that I don’t have to get a crappy part-time job in the mall. Score!
Second, my big brother moved out. Well, the great thing wasn’t that he moved out. Daniel is great and I love him. In August 2020 my older brother Dan moved to the East Coast to start university. Even though most of it was online for his first year, he was determined to move out of the house and have as much of “the university experience” as he possibly could. Back then I still had two years of high school to finish before I was going anywhere, not that I’d want to live anywhere other than Toronto. What helped me make the most of the pandemic was what my brother had left behind.
My brother has always been the jock of the family (hockey scholarship got him into University more than his grades), whereas I have always been the artsy type, complete with thick eyeglasses and short, skinny-fat body. But my brother couldn’t take his weight set with him when he left. One day not long after he’d moved out, I went down to the basement and saw all his equipment sitting collecting dust. It was a pretty good set up, too. Mom and Dad never hesitated to buy Dan stuff that would help him with his athletic career; they saw it as an investment (to be fair, they always bankrolled my book addiction, too). There was a complete squat rack, an adjustable bench, a tonne of weight (literally), a simple exercise bike and a few other pieces. There was also a big, full length mirror along one wall. I looked myself over.
Back then in September of 2020, at sixteen years old, I was a scrawny five-foot-seven, but had thick, wavy black hair, a cute button nose, and –thank heaven– clear skin. Our maternal grandmother was Latina (Columbian), and mom always said that’s where Dan and I got our colouring and good looks. Our younger brother Ricky takes more after our Dad. I guess I was cute, but I was skinny, a fact that had always stood in stark contrast to my brother’s tall, muscular, athletic frame. I didn’t like being skinny, but there never seemed much I could do about it. So, that day in the basement I looked at my brother’s weights, shrugged my shoulders, and actually said out loud to myself,
“What the hell.”
I started working out right then and there. With all the spare time that came with pandemic homeschooling, working out quickly became my new obsession. That and writing.
Homeschooling was, to put it mildly, unchallenging. So once all my school work was done, I started writing books. I self-published one, then another. To my surprise, they actually started selling. I wasn’t making a fortune, but it was really good part-time income for a guy still in high school. The stories were mostly gay stuff. Sexy gay stuff. Yeah, I’m gay. Well... I’m, like, 85% gay. Girls turn me on too, but it seems like it’s gotta be just the right girl. Anyways, “gay” is the label that fits best. I never knew there could be money in writing sexy stories. A modest among of money kept rolling in each month, so so I guess I was good at it. Now, let’s get back to what happened today.
Today was Monday, the 11th of April, 2022. It was one of the first warm days of the year, and the first day in the longest time when my classmates got to see me in anything but a bulky sweater. Today I strutted through the halls with a new, short haircut, a new pair of jeans, and an old t-shirt, both of which were a bit tight on me in all the right places. I also got contact lenses and lost the nerdy eyewear. To add a bit of an edge, I even got a black stud put in my left ear recently. I think it looks nice. Since anyone at school had seen me dressed like this, I had grown to five-foot-ten and packed on almost forty pounds of muscle.
I walked by a mirror this morning and actually had to stop and stare for a few minutes. Suddenly I look like one of the school’s top athletes. And I don’t play a single sport. I don’t even take gym class. I have broad shoulders that taper down to a snatched twenty-seven inch waist, my arms fill out the sleeves of my t-shirts, my abs even show through the fabric if I move the right way, and best of all I’ve got a butt that fills out every cubic inch of my new jeans. All of it built on Mom’s cooking and fitness routines from the internet.
I’d never put any effort into improving my “look” before. It just seemed like it was a game I couldn’t possibly win, and I didn’t care about it that much, my friends liked me no matter how I looked, so why bother? Standing there, looking at myself in that mirror, in the middle of my school, I started to entertain the possibility that, maybe just maybe, there was value in improving my look after all.
“Damn!” I thought to myself. “I look... great!”
I had, of course, tracked my progress since I started lifting, but something about suddenly seeing myself and my new body in the old context of my school kinda caught me off guard –in the best possible way. I flexed my arm a bit, looking like I was adjusting my backpack, smirked and continued walking to class. I guess my brother didn’t get a monopoly on the athletic genes after all.
Over lunch I was eating in the cafeteria with my two besties, Kari and Marissa. They’d seen my progress over the previous two years, but all morning long other students who hadn’t been around me for the transition had been complimenting me. Then, as I swallowed a mouthful of taco salad, realitysuddenly started feeling like fantasy. None other than Ryan Andrews swaggers over to our table and starts talking to me.
Every high school has a guy like Ryan Andrews. He’s the captain of our football team, six feet three inches of fat-free, blond beefcake with a perfect smile, his own car, rich parents, the whole nine yards. Anyone looking at him on the street would swear he was at least twenty years old, but he was actually a month younger than me. We’d shared a couple of classes over the years and were even lab partners once back in the before times. Unlike a lot of other guys in Ryan’s position, he wasn’t a jerk. He always just kept to his own crowd and more or less ignored me. Until today, that is.
“Hey,” he said, smiling and chewing a piece of gum. “Morning, Ladies. How’s it going, Eric?”
“Uh... great,” I managed to say. “What’s up, Ryan?”
“Honestly?” he said, leaning on our table and looking right at me. “I kinda just wanted to make sure it was you, man. I mean... You look awesome, dude. Talk about a major growth spurt. Way to go!”
“Wow,” I said, immediately regretting how I’d begun my sentence, “I mean, uh... Thanks. I just started using my brothers weights and stuff, you know, over the lockdowns. I kinda got into it.”
“Yeah, I’ll say. Show me those guns, man.”
“Oh, c’mon, really?” I blushed.
“Yeah, for sure. Show off a little. You show me yours, I’ll show you mine,” he said, wagging his eyebrows, flashing a wicked smile that went straight to my crotch. I obliged, pulled up the sleeves of my t-shirt and flexed for him. Round, hard balls of muscle popped up on my arms.
“Not bad, bro. Not bad,” he said, grabbing one of my arms and giving it a squeeze. “Pretty soon you’re gonna catch up to me.”
Here Ryan threw up a double biceps flex, looking like a professional bodybuilder or model. My dick inflated even more. I wanted to sit up and beg like a puppy dog, but if I didn’t want to embarrass myself, I wasn’t standing up at all. From the looks on Kari and Marissa’s faces, they both had some moisture flowing down south, too.
“Anyways,” he said, dropping his flex and running a hand through his golden hair. “I just figured you might want someone to show you around the school’s athletic centre. You know, now that you’re a fellow gym rat. You wanna workout together sometime?”
“Uh... sure,” I managed to say. “That’d be great.”
We exchanged numbers and Instagram handles before parting ways for the afternoon, but I already follow him. He has a public account full of selfies that look like cover shots for a fitness magazine. Every girl and half the guys at school follow him, along with about fifty thousand other people. No, I’m not telling you what his handle is! I’m not screwing this up before it even gets started! Whatever “this” might be.
About an hour ago, he texted me asking if I wanted to go jogging tomorrow morning! I, of course, said yes. He’s going to pick me up early –in his Mercedes!!!– so we can jog and then –gulp– shower before classes start!
This seals the deal, he’s definitely flirting with me. There are rumours he’s bisexual, but I never really believed them. The universe just wouldn’t be that kind, I reasoned. I thought he was dating Laurie Radcliffe, though. Maybe not. Guess I’ll find out.
* * * * *
Wanna keep on reading? Visit me at patreon.com/eaaldersen for this and much more. See you there. Kisses!
Love,
Eric
