Date: Mon, 9 Jul 2007 15:54:50 -0400
From: Kevin Pasion <writingbedside@hotmail.com>
Subject: Summer Situations Chapter 2

Chapter Two

**********

By Nivek


            I've dreamt of him before.  I don't know who it was
exactly, but the body looks familiar.  The face is always shrouded in
shadows, but I seen that body, touched it, and cuddled with it before.
He's always haunting my dreams.  I'm dreaming?

__________

            Awakened with a mouth pushing air into my lungs and spitting
up saltwater, I tried to sit up but a firm hand kept me on my back.  The
sun still beat on my face, its glare harsh and blinding.  I pushed Andrew
off me.  I know it was Andrew only because I knew those lips very well.
Despite the severity of the situation, I got hard.  From dying to horny
is a feat that most boys and young men can do without even a thought.
Leave a sixteen-year-old alone for five minutes in a padded cell and the
cloth patterns will make him rise and take charge.  Puberty must be
Mother Nature's way of getting back at us.

            "Get off me," I said, turning to my side and throwing up
about a pint of saltwater mixed with last night's red wine.  "How long
was I out?"

            Andrew didn't answer my question.  Instead he took it upon
himself to jump onto my chest and slug my right cheek.  I can say this
about him:  he has a left swing like a motherfucker.  I saw darkness and
then twinkling pink stars for a minute.

            "Ow," I muttered, pitifully.  My erection jumped, but I
pushed him off me.  "Why'd you do that?"  I rubbed my cheek and knew
that by tomorrow I'd have a hell of a shiner.

            "Fucking asshole," he cried, grabbing hold of my face.
"Don't fucking do that again!"

            He squatted on top of my lap, nothing touching me but his
hands.  I could see his eyes were red and I don't think that it was from
the water.  Tears mixed with the ocean water and they ran down his face
like crazy.  "You were down there for like five minutes before I jumped
in."  He tackled me, wrapping his arms around mine.  He rested his head
at the nape of my shoulder.  His breath came in deep, heaving gasps.  He
held me hard, like he thought I'd make a second attempt.  "Please,
don't do that again."  He asked over and over until I calmed him down.
I rubbed his shoulder blades.  From the way he held me, I had a limited
area to move my arms about.

            I shushed him.  "Breathe slowly.  You'll hyperventilate."
I tried to quiet his sobs and it took awhile.

            When he could finally talk, however, he sounded much better.
"I had to go back up twice before I found you."  Sobs still hiccupped
in his throat.  "There was a moment on the shore when I was scared to
come get you.  I didn't know . . ."

            Andrew tightened his grip on me like I was the last thing
that kept him tethered to Earth.  I stroked his hair.  "Calm down,
Andy.  I'm okay.  You kept me from drowning.  That's all that matters,
alright?"  I pulled his head away from my neck and placed his on mine.
"Alright?" I asked.

            Eyes sparkling with liquid diamonds, he sniffled.  "Yeah,
alright, you fucking asshole."

            I laughed, and touched noses with him.  I breathed him in, a
scent of late boyhood and drying salt.  My erection, which began to wilt
earlier, rose with a vengeance, throbbing and mixing fluids with what was
already on me.  I took a deeper breath and shivered.  Andrew tilted his
head and leaned in.  It began with just a slight grazing of our lips, but
soon escaladed to me freaking out about where we were.  I moved from him
and asked, "Go with me."

            There was no hesitation in his eyes this time.  No more
fear.  He took my hand and we left for my car.

__________

            That wasn't the first time I've tried to kill myself; it
wasn't even the third.  However, it was the first time that I've done
it unintentionally.  The first time blossomed just days after my twelfth
birthday.  Deciding I couldn't take all the rehab that my doctors put me
through after they got me addiction to morphine, I threw away about forty
sleeping pills.  Yup, I tossed them right out, into my mouth, and down to
my stomach.  Afterwards, I got scared and called my best friend at the
time and he took me to the hospital.

            After that incident, I swore to him I wouldn't do it again.
However, he swore that he wasn't straight.  The second time was just
because of the fact that he married a girl two months after we stopped
dating.  That wasn't a fun one.  Nooses give horrible rope burns.  The
one before my little drowning effort was when I came out to my parents.
I still have the scar on my left wrist.  Okay, so maybe I'm a tad
melodramatic when I get news that I don't like.  My therapist said that
I'm dealing better with it than his other patients.  However, that's
pretty much a moot point considering that his other patients were in the
State Penitentiary.  And most of them were arsonists.

            I've got to hand it to Andrew, though.  He took it better
than I imagined him to take it.  We went back to the house and he said
nothing about my little episode.  He asked Laura if he could go with me,
too.  She replied with an, "I don't care," and went back to reading
her novella.

            I would've liked to drive but he threatened to tell them if
I did, so I gave him my keys for the day.  Damn it, blackmailed by
someone who doesn't even have his driver's license yet.  Although,
after the walk up the deck to the house and back down to the garage, I
got dizzy again and thanked him for driving.  He flashed me an evil smile
and we left the house for the day.

            He decided the day for me.  He said that he just flat out
didn't trust me at the moment, so he'd be watching me for anymore
signs.  "When we get back to the house," he said, swerving to miss
hitting a green Civic, "I'm moving my stuff into your room."

            "Your sister's not gonna like that," I warned him.

            He snorted.  "It's no problem.  I'll just say that creepy
cousin's bothering me and I'll just bunk with you.  Mom will like that
I'm not having premarital sex."

            "Little does she know that her young boy lost his virginity
two years ago," I said.

            "Hey, a boy's gotta do what a boy's gotta do."

            We had a semi nice silence.  He appeared glad either about
saving me or actually driving.  While I, on the other hand, pondered his
last statement.  He's a boy.  A BOY.  Jesus H. Christ, what am I
thinking?  It seemed fine when we were younger and now I just feel so
fucked up.  Besides, as a boy, he did say he just wanted to explore.  He
never said one word about actually starting a relationship.  I mean, I
know I'm slutty but do I really want to give it up for every confused
teenage boy?  It might be fun now, but it'll hurt like hell when I get
attached to one of them.  So what's a girl to do?

            "KYLE!" Andrew screamed in my ear.

            I jutted around, surprised by the sound.  "What?"

            "God, did that water clog your ears?" he asked.  "I've
been trying to get your attention for fuck's sake."

            "Sorry," I mumbled.  "Kinda got a lot on my mind right
now, `kay?  Can I just have a couple seconds to think?"

            "Whatever, man."  He fell quiet, again.

            We drove silently, the sun causing slight mirages on the
pavement.  I entranced myself to the puddles of water coming towards us
then disappear once we're within ten feet.  It startled me when I felt
Andrew's hand casually fall onto my knee.  I looked at it and not at
him.  His hand is warm and through my board shorts I could feel every hot
wave emanating from it.  I let him do it for a minute but when I saw that
his hand began to move towards me, I picked it up and put it on the
wheel.

            "Drive carefully."

            He grew huffy.  "Fine.  If you get to order me around . . .
Pack that bowl, bitch!"

            I smiled and didn't complain.

__________

            "Why are we here?" I asked, completely stoned off my ass.
I got some pretty good dank before I travelled out here, and we smoked
probably a quarter trying to find our way to the aquarium.  I didn't
understand why I couldn't move when we parked in front of the gray
building with cerulean blue trimmings on the sides and the huge fountain
at the façade.  And when I realized why I couldn't move, I was similarly
surprised that Andrew drove all the way here with no problems other than
a few curb checks.

            "It'll be fun," he said, smiling a goofy smile.  "Come
on."

            We paid at the door to a portly, good-natured woman with a
terrific laugh.  She gave us two passes.  Andrew paid for both of us with
the money from the roofing job he took for the summer.  He seemed proud
of that, considering most of the times that we've hung out, I paid for
everything.

            They had everything from alligators to seals.  We read the
little podiums' information with difficulty due to the weed.  We even
stayed for the feeding for the seal pups.  He'd never admit it, but
Andrew always had a soft spot for animals.  Any idiot can see that as he
watched.  A sparkling of interest glittered in his eyes.

            When he noticed that I was watching him more than the
adorable pups, he smiled.  "What's up?"

            "Nothing," I answered, blushing and cursing myself for
finding him attractive in that one vulnerable moment of caring.  "I just
like watching you sometimes."

            He blushed and walked off.

            Feeling like I offended him, I trotted after his footsteps
and made sure no one was around us.  We were in the shells area, where
they gathered all the mollusks' homes from all over the eastern seaboard
and put them on display.  People were still enamored by the seals and
their trainer, so we had the room to ourselves.  Except for, that is, the
woman who adjust and readjusted the display.  Sever OCD has its uses
sometimes, but this tiny woman with graying hair did it to the extreme.
Her ebony skin complemented her cream colored dress that stopped just
below her knees.  She looked more like a jolly and weathered teacher of
third grade than someone who would spend her lives paying attention to
calcium sculptures.

            "Look, I'm sorry," I told him, as I grabbed his arm and
spun him around.  "I'm sorry," I reiterated.

            Andrew sighed.  "Kyle, it's not  . . .  Fuck, I don't know
how to say it.  What you said made me think.  I like watching you, too.
I like it when I catch you watching me."  He stopped talking and turned
his face away from me.  "I like it more than I would like to admit it.
Sometimes I dream of you.  It's always the same dream.  It's me and you
in a room of rich color, pillows everywhere, and your eyes are on me the
entire time.  We talk and then we . . ."

            I blushed.  "I've had that dream before, except I'm not in
the room, per se.  I'm a floating mind and it's your eyes on me."

            "It could be like that," he said.  He was so eager, so
hopeful.  A part of me, down in my gut, yearned to let him have what he
wants.  And what I want.  What I've always wanted.  I want him to
consume me until there's nothing left to salvage.

            I don't tell him this.  I can't tell him this.  So, I do
what I have to do.  Not caring any longer that the delicate woman was in
the room with us, I lifted his head and saw that hope in his eyes begin
to fade.  I've been too quiet for too long.  He was so young.  I knew
that.  Anyone could see that with that look behind his eyes.  He still
believes in love so deep and strong that it won't matter to anyone as
long as it matters to him and the other person.

            I held his face loosely so he could move if he wanted to.  He
didn't.  "Andy, I'm gonna ask you again.  No more games, I want the
truth.  What do you want from me?"

            I expected him to push me away^×to yell gotcha, bitch!^×but
he didn't.  He focused on me with those haunting eyes and I saw the hope
blinking back into life.  "I want," he started, "I want . . ."

            Andrew raised his arms and took hold of my biceps, gripping
them tightly.  "I want," he said, again.  He never finished his
sentence, but stepped up to me, and ran his arms up mine, passed my
shoulder, traced my neck line, and took my head in his.  I fought the
urge to move away, to stop like he has in the past.  I trembled, shook,
and quaked all over.  I'm not going to stop.  I can't stop.  I didn't
think he could, either.

            When his lips touched mine, I neither tensed up to his touch
nor loosened to let him continue.  The first taste of him was sweet, an
innocent flavor.  He was untouched.  I knew in that moment for it to be
true.  It scared me that he was a virgin, but I couldn't hold myself
back any longer, I responded to his tongue sneaking into mine and closed
my eyes to take the kiss fully and wholeheartedly.  When we broke away
and I opened my eyes, I saw he still leaned in to me and his eyes were
still shut.

            As he recoiled and smiled that goofy smile again, he said,
"Your lips are chapped."

            I laughed.  "I have some Chapstick in the car."

            "It's okay," he said, pulling me to him.  "I can fix
it."  He brought me into a kiss once again and I put myself deeply into
it.  I opened my eyes in the middle of the kiss and saw the woman smiling
sweetly at us and went back to her work.

            I shut my eyes and melted into his arms.  Damn him.