A to Z

by Marie Sexton

  “Salty?” I’m still laughin’ a little bit.

  “No.” He smiles up at me. “You’re sweeter.”

  He finally moves up and holds me in his arms. He kisses the inside of my wrists and the palms of my hands. He sucks on my fingers a little, and I think I might explode. How can somethin’ silly like that feel so fuckin’ good? I don’t understand it. It’s like he’s findin’ secret places on my body I never knew I had. Places that are only for him. I close my eyes and let myself be carried away by the feel of his skin against mine. His mouth and hands, givin’ more and more. Our legs lock together, and we grind against each other. Our rhythm grows frantic and urgent. The release, when it comes, is slow and languorous and crazy intense.

  “You look so surprised,” Zach says to me afterward.

  I guess I am. “Never did that before,” I tell him.

  The look he gets on his face then—I can’t describe it. It’s almost like that look people get when they find out ’bout my parents. It’s shock and sadness. But this time there’s tenderness, too, and I find I don’t mind it so much. He wraps his arms around me and holds me tight.

  ’COURSE it doesn’t last forever. All too soon, he’s gettin’ dressed again, talkin’ ’bout meetin’ with the real estate lady to look at houses. I’m tryin’ to convince myself that livin’ with him will be okay. Feels so good bein’ with him. Why shouldn’t we live together? Be cheaper for both of us. Makes sense, right?

  Still, I can’t imagine lookin’ at houses with him, like we’re married or somethin’. Havin’ some lady I don’t know givin’ us that look, tryin’ to hide her disgust. I convince him to look at the houses by himself. Better if I don’t go. Just have to trust him.

  I pace around the room for a while. Finally decide that’s just stupid. Go out and get a six-pack of beer for me. Buy a bottle of wine for him. I know he likes red, but other than that I don’t know shit ’bout wine, so have no idea what I’m gettin’. Get back to the room and order a pizza. Just finished payin’ for it when I hear him comin’ up the stairs. When he comes in, I’m leanin’ against the wall, lookin’ out the window, tryin’ to tell myself for the thousandth time that I can live with him.

  “I’m so glad you ordered dinner! I’m starving!”

  “Got you some wine too. Hope it’s okay.”

  “Thanks, Ang. Did you get a corkscrew?” Shit. ’Course I didn’t think of that. He can see it on my face, though, and he laughs.

  “It’s okay. I’ll go ask at the office. They might have one.”

  I take a deep breath, make myself ask the question, “Did you find a place?”

  “I narrowed it down to two. I want you to decide.”

  “Don’t care.”

  “Well, you should care. There’s a one-bedroom, and it’s cheaper. But the two-bedroom is nicer.”

  “Okay.” The bird in my chest is flutterin’ around, and I’m tryin’ to ignore it.

  “It all depends on whether or not you want your own bedroom.”

  My own bedroom? I hear his words, but I can’t answer him.

  That damn bird is startin’ to break free. I’m tryin’ to keep breathin’, just in and out. All I manage to do is nod.

  “Do you want separate bedrooms? It’s up to you. I’ll be happy either way.” In and out. That’s all I have to do. Really easy. People do it all day, every day, not even thinkin’ ’bout it. But suddenly I’m havin’ a hard time with it.

  He’s not lookin’ at me. He’s diggin’ through his duffle bag, lookin’ for somethin’. “The two-bedroom is nicer anyway. It’s got a great kitchen. It actually made me want to cook again.” He finally turns and looks at me. “Do you cook at all?”

  The bird in my chest is frantic. Think it’s goin’ to tear right out of me, like one of those aliens in the movies. I’m startin’ to see spots.

  “Ang?” I can tell he’s worried now. Just have to calm down.

  Haven’t had this happen in a long time, but still know what I have to do. Just breathe. In and out. Why’s it so fuckin’ hard?

  I feel Zach grab me and push me so I’m sittin’ on the bed, and then his hand on the back of my neck pushes my head between my knees. That’s right. Should’ve remembered that on my own. His hand is rubbin’ up and down my spine, and I concentrate on that.

  Breathe in when his hand goes down my back; breathe out when it comes back up. Just in and out. In and out. Not so fuckin’ hard after all.

  Once I’m in control again, I say to him, “I’m okay.”

  His hand on my back stops, and he drops to the floor in front of me. Takes my face in his hands and makes me look at him. “Talk to me, Ang!” I close my eyes, start to shake my head, but he hangs on. “Damn it, Ang, don’t do that! Don’t pretend like there’s nothing wrong.” I open my eyes again, and I hate how torn up he looks over me. “Talk to me. Please.”

  I take a deep breath, tryin’ to keep the bird in my chest tied down. “I can’t do this, Zach.”

  He suddenly looks terrified. “Can’t do what, Ang? This? Us?

  Is that what you can’t do?”

  “No!” I push his hands away. Scrub my hands over my face.

  Have to take another deep breath before I finally say, “I can’t live with you, Zach.”

  I thought I’d see anger. Or disappointment. What I see is relief, and he grabs me and wraps his arms around me. Holds me against him so tight I can hear his heart poundin’ in my ear. “Jesus Christ, Ang, is that all? Why didn’t you just say so?”

  Have to admit that wasn’t the reaction I was expectin’. All this time I been so worried. “Didn’t want to disappoint you.”

  He laughs a little, but it’s a freaked out kinda laugh. “Worry less about disappointing me and more about scaring the shit out of me. I thought I was going to have to take you to the hospital, and I don’t even know where it is yet!”

  Can’t believe now how stupid I was, to think he wouldn’t understand. I put my arms around him. “I’m sorry.”

  “Shhh.” He’s still holdin’ me tight, rockin’ a little like he’s tryin’ to comfort me, but I’m not sure it’s me who needs it. “I’m sorry, Ang. I should have realized. I should have asked.”

  Now he’s gonna beat himself up over it, and I don’t want that.

  I pull out of his arms, but only so I can look in his blue eyes. “Don’t think either of us is very good at this yet.”

  “I guess not.”

  “You mad?”

  “I wish you had just told me.”

  “Thought I would get used to it.”

  He shakes his head at me, and I know that was the wrong answer. “Ang, I want you to be honest with me. Even if being honest is telling me that I’m being an asshole. I would rather you just tell me that you’re not sure about it so we can talk about it, than see you having another panic attack because I couldn’t guess what was wrong.”

  ’Course when he says it like that, it makes sense, and I feel like an ass. “I’m sorry.”

  He puts his hand on the back of my head and pulls me toward him so he can kiss me. “No more apologies, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  His tongue is tracin’ over my lower lip, and his arms are pullin’ me close again. “I’ll get the two-bedroom. You do what you need to do.”

  “Okay.”

  His hands are under my shirt. Can’t get over how good it feels to just have him touch me. My heart is racin’, and I’m hard already.

  My fingers are fumblin’ with the buttons on his pants. “I want you with me, Ang. Whenever you’re ready.”

  Before I can answer, his mouth is on mine, and he’s pushin’ me back on the bed, and we don’t talk for a long time after that.

  Zach…

  I SIGNED a year-long lease for the two-bedroom house. I figured Angelo would be more likely to move in eventually if he had the option of having his own room. He rented a small apartment across from the motel, which turned out to be the same apartment Matt had lived in before moving in wit
h Jared.

  We went back to Arvada. Ruby’s store was already empty when we got back. I felt bad that we had missed her. She left a note taped to my door. It said, “I had a vision. Use breadcrumbs.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?” Angelo asked. I could only shrug.

  Our last day at A to Z, all three of our regulars came in. Mr. D gave Angelo his e-mail address and asked him to keep sending movie recommendations. Justin thanked him profusely when Angelo insisted on giving him our copy of Heavy Metal. And Carrie actually managed to hug him goodbye, despite his efforts to sidestep her.

  Locking the store for the last time was strange. Ten years of my life, all ending with a turn of the key in a lock.

  Jonathan had been with me, the first time I set foot in A to Z Video Rental. It was a Saturday night, and he wanted to watch a movie. There was a help wanted sign in the window. I filled out the application, thinking it would be nothing more than a way to make a little bit of extra cash until a real job came along. Jonathan took exception to that. He said over and over again that real jobs didn’t just come along. I needed to be out looking for one. The fact that he was probably right hadn’t mattered to me much back then. We ended up fighting about it all night. In the end I went out and got drunk, and he stayed home and watched the movie alone.

  It was so easy to let it all fall apart. Easy to do the job, even if I was hung over or high. Easy to just settle in to the routine, and stop looking for that real job at all. It drove Jonathan crazy, and in the end, I dug in my heels and refused to quit simply out of spite. We went to bed angry more often than not. And then there was the night I didn’t come home at all. It was the first of many.

  Needless to say it was all downhill from there.

  Looking back it seemed like that job application had been the first domino, setting off the chain reaction of my life: getting the job, Jonathan leaving, then buying the store, and then a blur of empty days until the day I met Tom. Then like a bright light at the end of a dark tunnel, there was Angelo.

  Suddenly he stepped in front me and leaned against the door, looking up at me with his lopsided grin.

  “You’re doin’ the right thing, Zach.”

  And looking at him, I felt in my heart that it was true. “I know.”

  We left the key with Jeremy and said goodbye to him and Sensei. Angelo even promised to register as a Libertarian.

  “When should I come by your place?” I asked him as we left Jeremy’s store.

  “What do you mean?” he asked, in a confused tone that wasn’t at all typical of him.

  “Your apartment,” I said as I turned to look at him. The look on his face surprised me. His eyes were huge, and he looked like he was getting ready to bolt, if he could just find an escape route.

  “When do you want to pack your stuff?”

  “Oh,” he said, and his gaze slid sideways away from mine.

  “I’ll take care of it.”

  “By yourself?” I asked skeptically.

  “Yeah.”

  I waited, but he didn’t say anything else. He still wasn’t looking at me. Finally I said, “Angelo, are you trying to tell me you’re going to carry all of your furniture out of your apartment and put it in the truck by yourself?” I tried not to sound sarcastic when I said it, but didn’t succeed completely.

  He blushed and looked at the ground. Then he glanced up at me warily. “Guess not.”

  “Is there something wrong, Ang?” I asked lightly. “Do you have another boyfriend at home you don’t want me to know about?”

  He smiled a little, and I saw some of the tension leave his shoulders.

  “No, not that.”

  “What then?” I asked gently.

  He shrugged and looked away from me again, like he was looking for an answer to my question. He finally met my gaze and said, “Don’t normally let guys come to my place.”

  “Okay.” I had to think about that for a minute, about what exactly he was trying to tell me. He never took anybody home? “Not ever?” I asked skeptically.

  “Not ever,” he said with such conviction that I couldn’t help but believe him.

  “Okay,” I said softly, trying not to let my frustration show.

  “I’m not trying to push you, Ang, but I think you might need to make an exception, this one time.” He looked at me distrustfully.

  “I’m not trying to move in, Ang. I’m just trying to help you move out.”

  He sighed. He pushed his hair out of his face and looked away from me. His shoulders slumped a little, and he said, “I know, Zach.”

  “What about when we get to Coda?”

  He looked back at me again, and a slow blush started to creep up his cheeks. “What ’bout it?”

  I had a feeling he knew exactly what I was talking about, but I said it anyway. “I’ll have to help you move your stuff in there too.”

  His cheeks turned an even deeper shade of red, but he didn’t look away. “No,” he said firmly. “Matt’s helpin’ me.”

  “You already talked to him about it?” I asked in surprise.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t want you there.”

  I had no idea what to say. All I managed was, “Oh.” He could have punched me, and it would have hurt less. I tried not to let him see how upset I was. “If that’s how you want it.”

  “It is.”

  He was moving all the way to Coda to be with me, but at the same time, he was closing a door between us, shutting me out of his life. How was I supposed to react to that? I just nodded and turned away from him, heading for my car.

  “Zach,” he said as he reached out and grabbed my arm, waited for me to turn and face him. He looked up at me, and I could see in his eyes that he was desperate for me to understand. “I need my place to be mine, Zach. That’s all. It’s not ’cause of you.” He stepped closer, leaned against me, and looked up at me through his bangs. “Don’t be mad, Zach.”

  “I’m not mad,” I said, and it was the truth. Hurt, yes. But not mad. “Do you want me to help you move out or not?”

  He hesitated, and then nodded. “Yes.”

  “When?”

  He smiled up at me. “How ’bout now?” I had a feeling he was only saying that so he wouldn’t have a chance to back out, but I let it go.

  “Okay,” I said as I handed him the keys to the truck. “You’ll have to drive. I don’t even know where you live.”

  His apartment turned out to be in the upstairs of a split-level four-plex. We each grabbed a stack of empty boxes out of the truck.

  Just as we got to the stairs, one of the downstairs doors opened, and a boy stepped out. He was about thirteen. He had bad skin and wild blond hair that had been carefully styled to look messy. “Hey, Angelo.”

  “Hey, Josh.”

  “Some lady came by looking for you. She’s been here, like, a hundred times since you left. She really wants to see you.”

  “Are you sure she wanted me? Not Fred?” I could only assume Fred was one of the other tenants.

  Josh nodded. “Yeah. She asked for Angelo Green.” He grinned. “That’s you, right?”

  Angelo looked confused. “Yeah, man, but—a chick?”

  Josh shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. I mean, I wouldn’t call her that.

  She was, like, old, you know? She asked when you’d be home. I told her to check back today.”

  Angelo still looked confused but said, “Thanks, Josh,” and Josh went back inside.

  “You have a woman looking for you?” I asked jokingly as I followed him up the stairs to his apartment. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

  “Thought you knew, Zach” he said to me over his shoulder.

  “I’m a real ladies man.”

  “Right,” I said, laughing. “But she’s old.”

  “Josh thinks everyone over twenty is old. Asked me the other day if we had TV when I was growin’ up.” We reached his apartment. He set down his boxes and unlocked the door
but then turned to me apprehensively before he opened it. “No foolin’ around here, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said. He was so serious, and I was trying to keep from smiling. I couldn’t help but add, “Not even a little bit?”

  I said it jokingly, but he didn’t laugh. His eyebrows went down a little, and he got that stubborn look in his eyes that was starting to become very familiar to me. “I mean it, Zach. It’s my space. I need it to stay mine, even if it’s only for a few more days.”

  “Okay, no fooling around, I got it!” He watched me for a second, like he wasn’t sure whether or not to believe me. Finally he sighed, pushed the hair out of his face, and opened the door.

  There wasn’t much in the apartment: one couch straight out of the Seventies and showing every year of its long life; a dining room table that was covered with junk mail; and a kitchen that looked like it had never been cooked in.

  “That is the ugliest couch I’ve ever seen,” I said, and he laughed.

  “I know, right? Came with the apartment. The table too.”

  “So what do you have that needs to go in the truck?”

  “My bed. A dresser. And that.” He pointed to the wall behind me.

  I turned around to see what he was talking about, and my jaw dropped. On the wall behind me was a giant plasma TV. Then I noticed the speakers. “You have surround sound?” I asked in astonishment.

  “’Course, man. You’re the only guy left in the world who doesn’t.”

  On a low table underneath the TV was a VCR, a DVD player, and a Blu-ray.

  “Blu-ray even?” I asked.

  “Yeah. We gotta start orderin’ those for the store, too, you know? Lots of people have ’em now.”

  “New technology will be the death of me.” I wasn’t kidding actually, but he laughed anyway. “You have all that,” I said, “but where are the movies?”

  He gave me that lopsided grin. “I rent ’em, remember?”

  I had to laugh at that. “Right. Is there a wall in your new apartment big enough for that thing?”

  “No,” he said, suddenly looking unsure of himself. “I was gonna set it up at your place.”

  It was ridiculous, how happy those words made me. Not because I was dying to have a plasma TV, but because it meant that he was planning to be there with me, at least some of the time.