Date: Thu, 02 Aug 2001 09:45:58 +0800 From: Corey Castor <snatched@alloymail.com> Subject: Bleak Future (Part 5) BLEAK FUTURE Part 5 Tonight, I don't sleep. My heart beats erratically for hours and hours. I can hardly breathe. My eyes refuse to close. I'm a big ball of energy about to jump out of this skin, this body. My soul wants to soar. When I finally fall asleep at five in the morning, I have my usual panther dream, except this time, the panther says nothing as if she's pleased with me. We stare at each other for what seems like hours as we enjoy the sound of the water flowing out of the dam, the chirping of the birds. I wake up at six. Having slept for only an hour, I expect to be groggy, tired, but I'm not. I'm happy, energetic. These aren't usually the words I use to describe myself. I take a long shower, giggling every now and then for absolutely no reason. By seven, I'm ready to catch a ride to school. I could either take the bus, ask my mom, or call James. I call James. On our way to school in James' car, I can't stop smiling. My smile perplexes her. "You okay?" she asks, without taking her eyes away from the road. "Did something happen last night?" She begins to smile herself. "What do you mean?" I think James is psychic. "Nothin', I just mean... did you... I don't know. Never mind." "Hey! What are you talking about? Did I what?" James can see through me; she can see through Sean; she can see through Harley. She's definitely psychic. "You seem happy. Like something might've happened last night, or yesterday after I left. Cause I saw you yesterday, and you looked pretty pissed. Now... you're acting like... I don't know. You're acting weird. I usually have to crack a joke for you to smile at seven in the morning. And you know what else?" "What?" "You stopped asking me for a ride sophomore year." I know she's right, but I'm starting to forget what Paul's skin felt like. I'm starting to doubt anything actually happened. I can't remember what his tongue felt like in my mouth, grazing my teeth, what his hands felt like on my stomach. So I can't tell James what happened last night until I speak to Paul, until I know for sure that what I think happened wasn't a dream. I know that it had to have happened. I remember the moon, the trees by my house. I remember his speechless face after I got out of the car, but I can't remember his touch. "Oh yeah. I know. I just woke up early this morning and decided to call. I wasn't about to wake my mom up. Dude, I even ate breakfast. One of mom's bagels and orange juice. Ha-ha." "Wow... Really? Wow." She's surprised because breakfast isn't my thing. I don't like bagels. I like junk food: potato chips, pizza, leftover Chinese, anything considered the opposite of nutritional. "Did you have a religious experience last night or something?" "Yeah, something like that. I mean, I... think I did." James is smiling broadly now, as if I don't have to tell her; she already knows. She won't force me to say anything I'm not ready to say. I'm smiling broadly because in a few minutes, I realize that I'll be sure if it was all a dream, or if I really did touch and kiss Paul. It can't possibly be the beginning of something: my kissing Paul. I see him in front of me with his friends in my first period class. I recognize Alex who sits to his right. We've spoken a few times in Phys. Ed.; his breath always smells of peppermint. I recognize Sherry on his left. We've had classes together. I don't remember which ones, but she's always friendly and talkative - a big slut, I guess, is the term I should use. I recognize Paul because he kissed me last night. He touched my stomach and moaned inside my mouth. He hasn't said a word to me since class started. I have to try really hard to stop looking at his profile. This week, we review for finals, which begin next Monday. There are only three weeks left before we leave school for summer vacation. I'm relieved even though it means I have to take finals. Mrs. Barron asks us to pair up as she passes out review sheets. I watch as everyone in class moves his or her chair around the room. I never pair up. It's one of the perks of sitting in the back. The teacher never notices, or if she does, she never says anything. Paul is paired up with both Alex and another boy. The teacher sees him and asks him to find another partner. "I said PAIR up, Paul. No threesomes, buddy." The room fills with laughter. "Ooh la la, m‚nage a trios," someone says, and the room again trembles with the laughter of my classmates. It takes a while and a lot of staring from Mrs. Barron for Paul to sit in the seat next to me, to my left. When he finally seems to have accepted the fact that we have to sit together, we both open our textbooks to the correct page and start the exercises. For half an hour we don't say much. We write sentences in Spanish I don't even understand, occasionally looking over our shoulders to check our answers. The teacher walks around the room. When she arrives at our table, she scans what we've written. "Good job," she says and gives us permission to stop till the end of class. Paul won't look at me. "So... what's the matter with YOU?" I whisper, pretending to be curious, but I'm hurt, desperate to hear the sound of his voice. "What do you mean?" He's still staring at the front board, his friends' backs. "Nothin, just asking'." "Yeah. Well, I'm fine." I start to laugh. "What?" Paul glimpses at me and quickly turns away. "Nothin, I was just thinking." "'Bout what?" "Nothin." "Fine. Whatever." I laugh again. This time he doesn't say anything; he continues to stare blankly at the front board. "I was just thinking that maybe you're mad about last night." "What about last night?" "You know, kissing me and everything." "Don't know what you're talking about," he says. He still won't look at me. Looking at Paul's profile, I realize something. I realize that after two years of confusion, I'm no longer an amoeba. I'm feeling something right now, something I've never felt before. Of course it might be because he's the first I've ever kissed, but I don't care. "Right. Didn't expect me to kiss back or something?" I say, staring at his ivory white cheek. I persist because I want answers. I'm hurt, but also determined, curious, desperate, whatever. I am no longer an amoeba. I am no longer the apathetic person I was once proud to be. I feel human, exactly where I'm supposed to be. I feel as though I belong next to him. "It's okay. I mean, I didn't expect you to do it at all. I mean, I think I wanted it to happen, but I didn't expect it to." I turn in my seat to face the board. For a moment, I stop staring at him, but in the corner of my eye I can see his face, his smirk. "I think we're allowed to go back to our seats now," he says with a little grin, gets up, and walks back to his seat. The rest of the week passes slowly. During class, Paul and I don't say a word to each other. When he sees me in the halls, he hardly acknowledges my presence. I want to walk up to him and kiss him again, but I don't mind playing along for the time being. I don't mind being ignored. I think I can wait. Friday nights are movie night. James, Sean, Harley and I usually gather at a house, rent a movie and spend most of the night laughing. Tonight Harley is on a date and James is working. Sean and I are the only ones gathered at his house. We sit in his living room, scanning the television for something good to watch. MTV doesn't give music videos much anymore, so we skip it even though Sean loves Road Rules. I love Cartoon Network, but Powerpuff Girls isn't my idea of great television, so I turn the TV off. "I shoulda worked," I say, "cause this is a fucking waste of time if no one's here." "Yeah, can't believe I canceled a date for this." Sean says, but he hardly seems disappointed. "Harley's on a date." "Yeah, I know." "So you shoulda went." "I couldn't. What would you do?" "Nothin, I'd probably read or something," Sean looks at me, then my crotch and laughs, "Or something." "You're so fucking gross, man," I say, turning away, but he's already seen that my face is flushed, red. "Hey, that's what I'd do. I have so much porn in my closet, I'm afraid they'll, like, fall out when my mom cleans my room. I don't even let her near the closet." For a few minutes, Sean and I can't stop laughing. There are a few questions I'd really like to ask though, so I stop laughing. I think of asking, but I'm afraid he'll take them the wrong way. "So... is it regular porn?" I ask, careful of how to word my questions, not to be too obvious. "Ha-ha, regular? So... only straight porn is regular? Everything else is irregular?" "No. I was just... Is it straight porn?" "NO! Tristan, we established this when we first met. Straight is boring. I don't do anything straight. I don't even draw my lines straight. Actually, when I get my license, I might not even be able to drive straight." We crack up at this. I guess this is the "stereotypic fag" thing he's always talking about. I'm really not sure. "So... what are they... they're mostly two guys doing it, right?" "Nah, sometimes two, three. Sometimes ten. It all depends what you're in the mood for. Why? Wanna watch it with me?" "No way... NO! I'm just... curious. I mean, I never seen two guys do it before, but... nah." "Okay, whatever. We can just sit here then and not do anything." "You're not gonna get me to watch it." "Fine." Pause. "So..." I say, trying to start up a different conversation. Sean has his arms folded in front of him. He's pretending to be offended, but I know he's not. He'll crack up the minute I say something funny or stupid, but I'm not in the mood for that. There are things I want to know... "What's it like?" I ask, catching him off guard. He gives me the "can-you-please-elaborate" look even though I'm sure he knows what I mean. "Sex...with, you know, two guys. What's it like?" "It's like sex," he laughs. "No, I mean, what's it like? What do they do?" Sean's face turns red with laughter. He's holding on to my knee because he can't contain himself. I guess I didn't have to crack a joke for him to start laughing. "I keep forgetting you're still a virgin." "So? I'm only sixteen. It's not like everyone loses their virginity at twelve like you." I think the frown on my face might scare him into thinking I'm mad and offended, but I'm not. I'm proud of my virginity. It says that I'm not a perv like most guys. I think girls dig that, even though now it doesn't matter what girls dig about me. "Hey, calm down. I know, it's just... sometimes I forget." "So...?" "So... what?" "Are you gonna tell me?" "No. Why do you wanna know?" "Cause I'm curious. You're my friend. You're gay. I don't know a lot about what you do when we're not hanging out, but I wanna know now." "Hmm. Why the sudden interest?" Unlike James, Sean will always force me into saying things I'm not ready to say. "I don't know. I'm just curious, I guess." "Well, watch the porn with me and you'll know." This is hopeless. "Nah, I'm gonna go home." On the drive home, I start thinking about what my sudden interest in what guys "do when they do it" might mean. "I am no longer an amoeba," I say to myself. I am no longer asexual. I turn the radio on and listen to some new song by Depeche Mode I like their older stuff more. I wonder if I should have figured it out years ago. I wonder if my disinterest in sex for the past two years could have been caused by the fact that I was confused about my homosexuality. I find it weird though that just one person could have triggered it. What about all the other guys in school? When I stop the car, I find myself in front of the video store. The front is made of glass, so I can see inside. I see James and am immediately relieved. Parking the car, I can think of nothing else but telling her what I feel. "Hey," I say, once inside the store. "Hey. What's up?" "Uh, nothin. I was just thinking... so uh, I...I have something to tell you." "What?" "Not here. Can we go to the back?" "Yeah, I guess. Just gimme a sec." Walking to the backroom, I notice that James isn't following me, but I open the door anyway. I figure that I'll wait for her. Once inside, I see Paul sitting at the staff table drinking a soda. D‚ja Vu. "Hey," I say, but he doesn't respond. "So... what's up?" "Nothin. I'm on break." He doesn't look up at me. I can't think of anything else to say. I mean, I can, but I'm afraid they'll come out wrong. Like, I can't say, "You have beautiful lips" or "You look sexy in whatever you wear" or "I followed you all over school once and missed all my classes. I had no idea why till today." I can't say those things. I can't just tell him. I can't tell him that for the past week, I haven't heard a word he's said in class because I was busy watching his hand movements and his lips and his cheeks moving up and down. We spend about five quiet minutes together in the room, with him in his chair and me against the wall. I watch him as he stares at a poster on the opposite wall. When he gets up to leave, I panic. "Half an hour already?" I blurt out. I wish I didn't sound so anxious. "Yeah. I have to go back to work." "Yeah." He grins. "You COULD get away from the door so I could get out, you know. That would really help." Again, I feel as if this has happened before. "Right," I say, slowly moving from the door. Then I think, "All I have is this one life, right? And, well... if I can't live this life - this ONE life that I have - the way that I want to, what's the point of living in the first place? I'm almost seventeen and there's this kid in front of me that, for all I know, I could one day fall in love with. I have this opportunity to just grab him and kiss him in here where no one'll see us, but I'm not. I'm just standing here like a fucking idiot. I'm not doing what my whole body and soul wants me to do. I'm just moving away from the door. Just letting him get away." So I stop. I stop moving from the door and slowly bring my hand to his cheek, then my fingers to the soft flesh of his upper lip. My hand is shaking, but I keep it on his warm skin and just move my lips to his quickly so he doesn't have the chance to run away. I hear him groan at the back of his throat. For less than two seconds, I feel his lips on mine. And right when I'm about to part his lips with my tongue (a move he'd only taught me a week ago), he pulls back and pushes me to the wall. When I look at him, he has this weird frightened, angry look on his face. I don't care. I move close again, but he moves back. "What?!" I ask. "What's the matter with you?" "You don't get it, do you?" "Get what? What's to get?" "That I don't... Look, you were right, okay? We don't have a thing in common. We shouldn't be friends." "What?! When did I say that?" He has a smirk on his face. It's half a smile, where only his right side seems to be smiling. His lips tilt. It's mischievous and sexy at the same time. "Not only did you say it, but you said it twice. We're different. Forget this ever happened, all right? Forget I ever did what I did that night." He shoves past me and leaves the room. Confused, bewildered... whatever, I follow him. I don't do this dramatically or with any force. I don't push the door so everyone hears but leave the room quietly, disappointed and angry. I want him to kiss me! I want to kiss him! When I reach the front counter, I see Paul and James whispering. He seems heated. His face is red. His forehead is sort of shiny, with sweat, I imagine. I have all these thoughts running through my head because I know that I've never experienced this before. Everything inside says, "Grab him and kiss him. Right here! Right in front of everyone." I move to the counter with a frown that could probably end up giving me a headache later. Paul stands behind the computer, waiting, as if I'm about to rent a video, as if I didn't just kiss him, as if nothing happened behind that red EMPLOYEES ONLY door. He looks right into my eyes and doesn't budge. With our eyes locked into each other's, I say, "Later, James. I'll see you tomorrow or... whenever we work together, I guess." "Hey! Wait. Didn't you have something to tell me?" Her eyes are darting from Paul to me. I see her anxious face in the corner of my eye. "Um... nah. I'll see you later." My eyes don't move from his till I leave the counter. My frown doesn't waver till I'm home on my bed.