Color of You by C.S. Poe

Author:C.S. Poe [Poe, C.S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: gay romance
ISBN: 978-1-64080-150-9
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2017-12-25T05:00:00+00:00

I HEARD a door slam, and I sat straight up in bed. I felt my hair sticking up on end, and I was briefly disoriented by the size of the room, the comfort of the bed, and the warm body beside me.

“What’s wrong?” Felix murmured.

“What time is it?”

He sighed heavily and rolled to one side. “Six thirty.”

“Holy shit! I have to go!” I vaulted out of bed, nearly planting face-first on the floor when I got tangled in the blankets. “I still have to go home and shower and change.” I ran to the bathroom, quickly finger-combed my ridiculous hair to one side, and jumped into yesterday’s clothes.

Felix was out of bed by the time I reentered the bedroom. “I’m sorry. I forgot to set the alarm.”

“It’s okay.”

“Do you want some coffee before you go?”

“I don’t have time.” I gave him a kiss. “Ugh, sorry, morning breath.”

Felix just smiled, looking sleepy and perfectly disheveled.

“I’ll call you,” I said, going to the door. “Or see you, or—something soon. Okay?”

“Okay.”

I opened the bedroom door and literally bumped into Alan coming out of the hall bathroom. “Oh! Uh… morning.”

Alan stared at me for a beat, looked over at his dad’s door, then said, “Holy shit, you spent the night already?”

“Can we talk about this when I’m not late for school?” I asked him.

Alan’s deadpan expression would have slayed me if I had time to laugh. “Let’s not and say we did.”

“Fair enough.”

I said goodbye and saw myself out the door. It was still dark outside, a sort of blueish black that promised the sun would rise eventually, but this far north, it wouldn’t be until after seven. When I got back to my house, I had a cool twelve minutes to shower and get dressed, which I did in just under eleven, and if it were an Olympic sport, that’d have been a 10/10 from every judge on the panel. I mean, I forgot my coffee, my instrument, and had to run back into the house for my school bag, but I was parked and walking through the front door of the high school at exactly seven thirty.

I’d detoured to the faculty lounge to try my hand at the coffee machine. I knew how to use a Keurig, but I think the one we teachers had was some sort of knockoff brand clinging to life. The first cup I’d tried, it didn’t actually puncture the cup, just sort of oozed hot water everywhere. I spent five minutes mopping up that mess with a wad of napkins left behind on the table. The second try spewed coffee grounds—again, not sure how it even managed that.

“Just one cup of fu—freaking coffee! What do you want from me?” I protested.

Stephen had walked into the room right when I started yelling at the machine. “Which attempt are you on?”

“What?” I looked up and felt my face get warm. “Oh. Hi, Stephen.”

“You look… nice,” he said politely.

I looked down at myself. Olive trousers, blue button-down, yellow pullover sweater, bow tie….

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