Day Eighteen

[aruan]

From the set of Blowin' Me Up. He's watching pyrotechnics go off and monster trucks rally and looks just like every little boy who's ever dreamed a dream. He's simply enchanting. (cap courtesy of the illustrious raedoro)

Nobody's Fault But My Own by Lise and Kel

One porn magazine, naked boys, purchased in Amsterdam six months prior, hidden in the back of one rarely opened trigonometry textbook.

Five steps from the bathroom to the bed.

One clumsy slip-up.

One secret revealed.

No matter how Justin added it up later in his head, it all added up to this:

One confession.

"I -- JC. I think about him sometimes," Lance said, but swallowed up anything else that might have come after that.

"Yeah," Justin said, "Maybe that doesn't make you gay, though. Maybe that just means you're alive."

I love when JC's the practical one. Because he would be, about the important things.