Just a Dumb Surfer Dude

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Just a Dumb Surfer Dude Page 9

by Chase Connor


  I didn’t know what to say to that.

  “I guess I’m a pretty lucky asshole.” He shrugged. “I’ve never had to worry that I was settling for something undeserving of my reverence.”

  I chuckled. My dad watched me for a minute.

  “So,” he cleared his throat, “Logan doesn’t set off the fireworks, huh?”

  “You could say that.”

  “Religion, son.” He gave me a knowing nod, then opened the paper again, bringing it up to his face.

  “What?” I laughed.

  “If the person you’re with doesn’t inspire reverence, doesn’t make you want to worship at their feet, well, what the fuck are you doing wasting your time?” He spoke from behind the paper. “You’re just a Baptist at a synagogue. Pissing into the wind while a bush burns behind you.”

  I grabbed the last two chocolate glazed donuts and my mug off coffee and stood from the table.

  “You’re not going to finish your breakfast down here?” Dad asked blandly as he read his paper.

  “Um…”

  “Go do your thinking, son.” He chuckled.

  Smiling nervously, I went back up to my room, knowing that I had things I had to do. Logan’s kisses weren’t ‘wow’, and neither were there fireworks. At least, not for me. He wasn’t going to be the love of my life. As I ascended the stairs, Jumper following me up, I had a realization. Maybe I was a Baptist at a synagogue. Logan needed a Jew—and there might be someone that worked.

  Me: Hey.

  Logan: Good morning, sexy.

  Me: Can you call me?

  Logan: …

  Me: It’s kind of important.

  Logan: Is everything okay?

  Me: Yeah. I just wanted to talk to you about something.

  Logan: I’m having breakfast with my parents. Can I call you after?

  Me: Sure.

  Logan: I can’t wait that long. This sounds ominous.

  Me: It’s not *ominous*. Just something we need to talk about.

  Logan: Just tell me, Cooper.

  Me: Call me after breakfast.

  Me: Please.

  Logan called less than fifteen minutes later so I figured he had cut breakfast as short just so he could call. I was just going to add that to the growing list of things that made me an asshole. But, starting with this phone call, the list was getting a few items removed.

  “Hey.” Logan’s voice was quiet and cautious as it came through the phone. “What’s going on, Cooper?”

  I sighed. There was no point in dragging things out longer than I already had. It was time to bite the bullet.

  “I don’t want to date you, Logan.” I couldn’t believe I was saying that. How many more hot guys would ask me out while I was still in high school? “We’re not right for each other. And if you really think about it, you’ll realize I’m right.”

  Logan didn’t answer at first.

  “I actually do like you, Cooper.” He stated lowly.

  “I like you, too. A lot.” I replied. “But not like in the way I should if we’re going to kiss and date and whatnot.”

  “This freaking sucks.” It sounded like Logan threw something. “I knew I should have just kept my mouth shut about being gay.”

  “Logan, I’m glad I know.” I interjected. “And I’m glad we’re friends. You don’t know how glad I am. But I have to be true to myself. And it’s not very kind of me to act like there’s something between us when there isn’t.”

  Logan just sighed.

  “But…” I began.

  “What, Cooper?” He sounded exasperated.

  “Do you maybe want to ask someone else out?” I suggested. “Someone from our school?”

  “What are you say…” Logan began, then stopped himself and changed course, “Are you saying you know another gay guy at our school?”

  “Yeah.” I replied evenly. “You know my friend Alex?”

  “HE’S GAY?!?” Logan practically shouted through the phone.

  I tried to laugh. “Yeah. He’s hot, right? You should ask him out. He’s a really great guy. Super sweet—even though he acts like he’s not. And he’s smart, no matter how dumb he acts. And…well, he’s my best friend. I love him. If you and I aren’t going to work out, maybe you and him can. You both deserve to be happy, man.”

  Logan was quiet for several moments.

  “You won’t get mad if I ask him out?” Logan asked cautiously.

  “No.” I shook my head, as though he could see me. “You guys might get along great. Maybe one day I’ll be the best man at your wedding.”

  I laughed, but it wasn’t genuine.

  “Okay. I guess. Yeah.” Logan mulled it over. “Can we still study together after school? Go to the movies? Chill?”

  “I didn’t say I didn’t want to be your friend, dumbass.” I replied.

  Logan laughed. “All right, man. Well, even if we’re not going to date…I did have a lot of fun on our date. And…you’re a good kisser.”

  The last sentence came out quickly, but it was genuine.

  “Pervert.” I teased. “Okay. I’m going to go. Dad wants to bogart my time. But think about Alex, okay?”

  “Will do.” Logan responded. “Thank you for being honest—even if it hurts a little.”

  We both laughed and then promised to text and see each other Monday at school. I set my phone down on my bedside table and sat down like a sack of potatoes. Jesus Christ—staying true to myself fucking sucked. I felt like hitting something. Or crying. Or eating. Or screaming. Jumper lay on my desk in the warm sunbeam that poured through the window. I mumbled a few curses under my breath as I looked down at my feet.

  “The AMC is showing one of those superhero movies you teenagers are so into nowadays.” My dad peeked his head in the half-open door before stepping inside. “Wanna go see an X-Men movie, or some other movie with guys in tight spandex outfits? My treat.”

  I laughed a sob-like laugh. “Any money I have is yours. Of course it’s your treat.”

  I reached up and wiped my nose with the back of my hand.

  “So?” Dad ignored me wiping at my watery eyes. “Muscle men in tight outfits? Yes or no?”

  I laughed again and looked over at him. I knew my eyes were red.

  “I’ve never been into superhero movies. You know that.”

  “How about we order a whole bunch of LGBT romantic movies on Amazon Prime, then?” He suggested with a conspiratorial wink.

  “How about something where a bunch of teenage guys get hacked to death painfully by chainsaws and machetes?” I choked out another laugh.

  “That works, too.” He shrugged with a smile. “And if it has gay subtext, so be it. Everyone deserves to die!”

  I actually managed a real laugh.

  “Come on, son.” He motioned for me to get up.

  Dad wrapped an arm around me and led me towards the door.

  “Being a good person isn’t always fun.” He stated softly as we left my room. “But at least the pain doesn’t drag out for long. Makes the rest of life easier to endure.”

  “Well, right now life can suck it.” I snorted.

  “Amen, Cooper.” He chuckled and gave me a tight squeeze before we descended the stairs.

  Monday at school was tolerable. Dad and I had watched movies and hung out all weekend in our pajamas. Just being lazy. Being father and son. Commiserating. It made the hurt of knowing that my perfect, happy ending wasn’t going to happen this time. I mean, subconsciously, I knew that Logan was not going to be my happy ending, even before we went on our date. But I was hoping it could make me happy at least for a bit. For a moment. And maybe it did. For a few moments over the course of a few days, I forgot that I was a lonely gay kid in an all-boys prep school, acting like he was something he wasn’t. It gave me hope. Briefly.

  Logan and I still worked together perfectly in AP Chemistry, and he still ate with us all at lunch, blending in well with the group. Every now and then, I’d catch him looking at Alex at lunch, as if
trying to figure out if he should make a move. Lunch was a little less fine than the rest of the school day, but I managed just fine. Coffee and food helped quite a bit. Alex bothered me during lunch like he always did, being obnoxious and funny and kind. In Calculus he made me laugh several times with his ridiculous faces he made behind Mr. Freeslay’s back.

  When we parted ways after class, Alex off to practice, and me off to my car, I met Logan in the parking lot. Since we had planned to study, we drove to IHOP and drank more coffee and ate pancakes while we talked Chemistry. We laughed, we groaned at the work, it was okay. Nearing time to leave so we could get home before our parents killed us, I decided to bite the bullet again.

  “So, are you going to ask Alex out?” I asked as I shoved my book in my bag in the booth beside me.

  Logan shrugged. “Maybe. We’ll see. He’s cute.”

  I agreed with a nod.

  “I don’t really think he’s that into me, to be honest.” Logan stated. “So, maybe I’ll just talk to him for a while first.”

  “Yeah.” I shrugged. “That oughta work.”

  Logan gave me a strange smile and we walked out of IHOP together.

  Tuesday was similar to Monday. AP Chemistry with Logan was actually fun. Lunch was comfortable with everyone, though a little tough. Alex and Logan actually interacted more, so I figured Logan was planning his next move. Alex and I had fun in Calculus, and after we said our “goodbyes” and parted ways. Logan and I met in the parking lot and ended up at my house to study.

  Wednesday. The same. By Thursday, things were starting to feel normal, regular, scheduled. I didn’t have to think too much about what had happened over the last couple of weeks. Things were returning to some manifestation of normal. By Thursday, when I got up to go to school in the morning, my usual spring was back in my step, and I found that I was actually looking forward to classes again. And things went the same. Smoothly. AP Chemistry was fun with Logan, lunch was fun—if annoying—with all the guys, and Alex and I had fun in Calculus.

  However, as Alex and I were putting our things away at the end of the day, Logan popped into our Calculus room as everyone was leaving. I looked up first when I noticed someone coming into the room. Alex looked at me, then turned his head to see what I was looking at. Logan just smiled at us, giving a small goofy wave from the open door. Mr. Freeslay looked over at Logan for a second, shrugged, and went back to cleaning the dry-erase board.

  “You got a second, Alex?” Logan asked. “Wanted to talk to you for a second.”

  “Sure, man.” Alex replied evenly.

  Logan nodded and walked back out into the hallway. Alex immediately turned to me with a smile.

  “You little shit.” He whispered where Mr. Freeslay wouldn’t hear him. “Did you talk to him and not tell me?”

  I just gave an uncomfortable, tight smile.

  “Homo.” He whispered, like it was a compliment.

  Alex grabbed his stuff, slung his bag over his shoulder and dashed for the door. Right before he exited, he slowed to a normal pace, walking with what he thought was nonchalance. I couldn’t help but laugh at how poorly he pulled it off. I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder and said “goodbye” to Mr. Freeslay. When I exited into the hall, Alex and Logan were nowhere in sight. So, I made my way to the parking lot, jumped in my car and headed home. As I drove home, all I could think was: ‘If I did the right thing, why do I still feel like shit?’

  Logan: Hey, friend-o.

  Me: Hey, bromo.

  Logan: Why didn’t you wait for me? We study after school!

  Me: I thought maybe you and Alex needed to…be alone?

  Logan: You’re ridiculous, Cooper. I may not get AP Chemistry without your help, but I’m not just a dumb surfer dude, ya’ know. XD

  Me: I know you’re not dumb! lol

  Logan: You better know it!

  Me: … So, you finally talked to Alex?

  Logan: Yeah. Thought he would’ve told you by now, man.

  Me: *shrugs*

  Logan: lol See you in class tomorrow, friend-o.

  Sleep eluded me most of Thursday night. I tossed and turned and dreamed fitfully. Thom wasn’t in my dreams. Logan wasn’t in my dreams. Alex wasn’t in my dreams. It was just some faceless, nameless guy, trying to help me live out my repressed sexual fantasies. But it wasn’t what I wanted either. Not having a boyfriend, not having an object of desire to fixate on—I was lost. Several times throughout the night I awoke with a start, sitting bolt upright in bed. Jumper finally got tired of my fitful sleep and went downstairs to, presumably, sleep on the couch or chair in the living room.

  When morning came, way too early, I staggered down to the kitchen to find that dad had made coffee. I poured myself a mug and plopped down at the kitchen table, feeling like death. Dad came out of his room, pulling on his suit jacket as he entered. I looked up from my coffee and immediately realized that something was different than usual.

  “You look a little spiffier than usual today.” I took in his nice suit, shiny shoes, new tie, fixed hair.

  “And you look like death warmed over.” He chuckled. “I made coffee since you tossed all night long.”

  “Were you watching me sleep?” I snorted.

  “Jumper only comes to sleep with me when you toss and turn, dingus.” Dad thumped me on the back of the head. “I figured you’d need the extra caffeine today.”

  “Yeah. Thanks.” I held the mug up to him and then took a healthy gulp.

  “Anything for you, rotten child of mine.”

  Dad was way too happy for so early in the day.

  “So…” I cocked an eyebrow at him, “why are you so dressed up today?”

  “Don’t laugh, but your old man has a date.” He waggled his head at me, puffing his chest out as he came to sit at the table with his own mug of coffee.

  “Wow. I don’t smell toast, but surely I’m having a stroke.” I snorted.

  Dad just stared at me.

  “Seriously, I don’t smell toast.” I jabbed at him with my finger. “Make me some toast.”

  He continued to stare.

  “Please?”

  My father sighed and got up to make me toast, jamming slices of challah into the toaster.

  “Who’s the lucky lady?” I asked.

  “Cheryl Simmons.” He smiled. “Ya’ know the…”

  “Cheryl from the donut shop?” I laughed.

  “Same one.”

  Cheryl Simmons was a thirty-five-year old widow—her husband had been a soldier killed in the Middle East—and the object of many men’s (and teen boys’) fantasies. She was definitely a good-looking woman, but also respectable and kind—and she made donuts. She was the perfect woman.

  “Wow.” I couldn’t even make a joke. “Good job, dad.”

  He smiled warmly at my approval. “We just got to talking last weekend when I picked up donuts, and well…she likes books, I like books, we’re both widowed, we both like movies and Chinese food, and she had nice things to say about you. Says you’re always so polite and kind when you come into the shop, that you’re ‘a handsome boy’…so I figured she wasn’t a complete waste of time.”

  I smiled.

  “So, when I get away from the school this afternoon, I’m going to pick her up and we’re going to take a play from you. We’re going to Montpelier for Thai food and a movie.” Dad laughed.

  “That’s a play from Logan’s book.” I couldn’t help but laugh with him. “But you can steal it I guess.”

  “Thank you, son.” Dad was grinning from ear to ear when he sat down across from me and shoved my plate of toast in front of me, expertly slathered with butter and orange marmalade.

  Just how I like it.

  Friday in class started out kind of rocky. AP American Literature involved an actual exam and everyone was in a bad mood. Well, I wasn’t, but that’s because the test was easy. Everyone else seemed to have not prepared for the exam that they’d known about for weeks. Of course, reminding everyo
ne of that would not have ingratiated me to them, so I just pretended like I didn’t notice all the frowns, groans, and exasperated sighs during the exam.

  AP Chemistry was fun like always because I had Logan to talk to and tease. Mostly, Dr. Sanders lectured and showed PowerPoint slides, teaching us about some thing or another. Logan an I mostly ignored it and whispered to each other, making jokes. I knew that I already knew the material, and Logan knew that I would fill him in sometime over the weekend. Being partners meant that neither of us had to pay attention in class.

  At lunch, Logan and I sat in our normal spot with A.J., Caden, and Martin, but Alex never showed. When I asked all of the guys if they’d seen him, everyone replied that he’d been in either first, second, or third period, whichever class we had with him, but he never showed up. I shrugged, figuring he had gotten sick and gone home. Or got detention for lunch. It definitely wouldn’t have been the first time my best friend spent Friday lunch in detention.

  When I finally got to Calculus at the end of the day, Alex was in his spot, which made me frown. I went and plopped down in my seat, immediately turning to him. He was just writing something in one of his notebooks, as though he hadn’t noticed me come into the classroom. I waved a hand in front of his face, breaking his concentration.

  “Hello, friend?” I waggled my head at him.

  “Oh! Hey!” Alex sat up, letting out a gusty breath.

  “Weirdo.” I rolled my eyes as I shoved my bag under my seat. “Why weren’t you at lunch?”

  Alex just stared at me.

  “Lunch?” I repeated.

  “Sorry.” He shook his head, as though clearing a thought away. “I went to talk to my dad in his office.”

  “Oh, shit.” I grimaced, leaning closer to whisper. “Are you in trouble?”

  He waved me off with a laugh. “No. Nothing like that. I just needed to talk to him and it took longer than I thought.”

 

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