Dad was definitely not a fan of Depeche Mode.
That first night I brought Jason over he seemed a little freaked out. Maybe because he wasn’t used to being in a house like that, I worried he wouldn’t come back again, but he did. As long as my parents kept going out to parties I could see Jason twice every week. I tried to think about other things when my mind drifted to how much money I was spending, or how little I had left. I worried about what to do when I ran out. He surely wouldn’t give me the time of day if I didn’t give him any money.
Those were the sorts of things I laid awake worrying about, or whilst staring at him in class.
What would he say if I had no money left? Would he even talk to me? I would definitely get a summer job, but I needed to save up for college too.
I knew I was making a mess of things. I wondered if he liked me, even just a little. I tried to make him like me. He was too hard to read for someone like me.
When we were in bed my worries did fade, at least for a while. They couldn’t compete with the blood pumping through my ears, drowning them out. If we were at my house on a Saturday night, we had longer than two hours. It was good not to feel rushed, I felt more relaxed. I started to feel like I was getting good at this too; I didn’t need telling what to do any more, I acted all on my own and used my strength to my advantage. I liked to feel the muscles in his arms flex against me as I held him down. I only wanted to kiss him but he'd turn his face away from me after the shortest time.
It was hard to take. I wanted so much and he gave me so little.
After a lot of psyching myself up to ask Jason something, I finally managed. We were in my room, undressing, so I went for it.
‘When we’re um...you know,’ I started, ‘Would you say my name?’
‘You want me to call you ‘jock’?’
I smiled. He'd stopped calling me 'jock' ages ago. He only said that now if he was really pissed at me.
‘No. Mike,’ I stated clearly.
I knew with Jason not to leave any room for him to misinterpret, accidentally or otherwise.
‘Sure,’ he shrugged. Again, like it meant nothing either way.
When I had him laid down on the bed, my new favorite position with his legs wrapped around me as I pushed inside him, I had to ask again.
‘Will you say it?’ I asked, gazing into green eyes. I could search those eyes forever, and still never be sure of anything. I remained as still as I could, waiting for him. I desperately wanted to be in control, hoping I could hold out longer than him and those cool, placid eyes.
He started to squirm underneath me as I pinned him. He smiled then, that sly smile.
‘Fuck me and I’ll say it,’ he murmured.
This time I gave in. I held onto his hips and began thrusting hard, forcing the air out of his mouth. He sighed against my rhythm, and just when I thought he wouldn’t do it, he moaned my name.
‘Again,’ I gasped in reply.
‘Mm, Mike.’
I loved hearing him say that, I couldn't get enough. I always had to ask, sometimes I even had to beg, but I wanted to hear it. His voice could be taunting or sarcastic most of the time, but I would just remember him saying my name when we were alone.
I think he caught on that I liked to hear him. Sometimes he whispered things in my ear. A lot of the time he used it to his own advantage, like convincing me to buy him alcohol, or whatever he wanted that day. Like I would've refused.
He started to call me if he wanted something. I remember the first time he called me at home. My Mom passed me the handset and said it was one of my friends. I hadn't been expecting his voice to materialize.
‘Hi, Mike,’ he drawled, as I melted against the telephone.
‘Hi,’ I replied, just barely.
‘Will you come pick me up?’
‘Where are you?’ I asked.
‘Cinema.’
‘That’s miles out, we’re in the middle of dinner.’’
‘Oh,’ he sighed into my ear. ‘Please?’
Of course I went. I couldn't say no to him.
Chapter 7
‘Have you started smoking?’ my sister, Alicia, asked. I was driving her out to a friend's house after school.
‘Er, no,’ I replied.
‘It stinks,’ she said, winding her window down. ‘Does that guy smoke in here?’
My heart skipped a beat but I tried to answer calmly. ‘What guy?’
‘That guy with the long hair.’
She meant Jason. I knew she would ask at some point.
We'd had an accidental meeting last Saturday night; I thought Alicia had gone over to her friend's house as normal. Everyone else was out. I hadn't known that this particular Saturday Alicia's friend was coming to stay over with her. I'd just walked in the hall with Jason. Alicia must have heard the front door and came out from the den to see who it was.
She'd spotted us as we reached the stairs. I'd felt like my heart stopped in that moment and leapt into my throat.
Alicia had looked at Jason in bewilderment, then looked to me.
‘What you doing?’ she asked innocently.
Luckily for me, my brain had managed to function and I replied, ‘This is Jason, he's my study partner.’
I didn't dare look at him in case he smirked at that.
‘This is my sister, Alicia,’ I introduced.
‘Hey,’ Jason said to her.
Alicia hadn't replied. She seemed to be taking in what she saw but not sure what to make of it.
Jason had said to me, with a touch of amusement in his voice, ‘Better go get your books then, Mike.’
I reluctantly agreed, trying not to stomp up the stairs. I dared to look back down; Alicia was still standing there but Jason had retreated out the door.
When I'd picked up some random text books to go along with the charade and passed her on the way back I'd ruffled her hair, like I normally did.
But I'd known she would ask me about it. I would just have to play it down.
‘Yeah, he smokes,’ I admitted to her in the car. ‘I'll get some air freshener.’
‘You never study with anyone else,’ she pressed.
Dammit, Alicia...
‘Well...’ I shrugged, concentrating on the road rather than her probing eyes. ‘We're both real behind in Math.’
At least that wasn't exactly a lie.
Jason thought it was hilarious. I resigned to be more careful about picking the nights I brought him over. I was so distracted by him that everything else seemed to pass me by.
I knew I was running out of cash though. I worried that if I spent the summer holiday working to earn it back, Jason would go off with somebody else while I wasn't around. I felt too shy to ask him about it outright.
One night I worked up the courage to try. In between kissing him and peeling our clothes away I whispered, ‘You like this, right?’
He hummed in reply, but I wasn't looking for rehearsed sounds or words. I needed to know what he really thought.
‘No, I mean, do you like what we do?’
He pulled back, suspicious. I could tell when Jason started to dislike something the moment his eyes grew colder and his brows came together.
‘Why?’ he asked.
I had to choose my next words carefully, this could go either way. Except I was never very good with words. Especially with him, and when our bare skin was touching. I took in a breath as I tried to formulate my reply. I hoped it would be something along the lines of, I want to know if you like being with me, because I like being with you and I don't want it to stop.
That was what I wanted to say.
However what came out in that nervous moment was, ‘Do you like doing this or is it the money?’
I knew it sounded bad as soon as I'd said it. Jason's reaction was minimal, for him. But then, he had smoked a joint earlier. He simply shrugged my arms off and stepped away from me.
‘What's that supposed to mean?’
I knew I'd annoyed him. But he
annoyed me too; he let me think that he might like me just so I could give him more money. He must have known it couldn't go on like this, unless he thought I had an endless supply of money.
Or maybe that was what he thought, I realized.
‘I don't have enough money to keep doing this,’ I mumbled.
‘You think that's all I'm worried about?’ he asked, accusing.
I stared at him, surprised. I wanted to answer, yes. Money was always the only thing he'd talk about with me, especially at first. I knew it had all gotten a bit blurred recently. I saw him so often we'd agreed without really discussing anything on a rounded up figure. Usually I gave him money on Friday night when he wanted to buy alcohol and pot, but he had stopped counting it. At least in front of me anyway.
Sometimes there were nights we hadn't arranged to do anything but an opportunity was suddenly there, if he was stoned and I kissed him enough it led to more. He wouldn't ask for extra money, although I kept expecting him to. I wasn't sure if he forgot or maybe thought I deserved a perk. In truth, I didn't know what to think.
My silence answered his question.
The look he gave me was one I hadn't seen before. He didn't look angry, he looked...different.
I was panicking too much myself to really take it in before he turned away from me. I watched him pick up his t-shirt from the floor and pull it back on. He shot me a glance as he walked past but that new expression had gone, replaced by the cool, indifferent look he usually wore.
I grabbed up my shirt as well, pulling it on as I followed him down the stairs.
‘Where are you going?’ I asked, almost afraid of the answer.
We were at his house. His Aunt hadn't been gone long. It looked like we were going to have another wasted opportunity, all because of my big mouth.
‘I think you should go,’ Jason said, over his shoulder. As if my being there was of no interest to him. His words cut through me a lot sharper than I expected.
‘What?'‘
He didn't repeat himself, he ignored me entirely. I followed him blindly as he walked into the kitchen. I stood there like a fool while he opened the refrigerator and took out a carton of juice. As he closed the door he looked up at me briefly, expressionless.
It made me so angry, I knew there had to be some feeling under there, some feeling for me.
‘I was only trying to talk,’ I said, trying to keep my voice level. ‘Why has it always got to be your way?’
Jason didn't reply in words, he simply rolled his eyes at me.
I can't explain how I felt other than enraged; it wasn't fair. I wasn't being given the chance to explain or ask anything, and now he was pretending I was nothing.
The pent up anger ran through me, my hand acted of its own accord and smacked the carton of juice out of his hands. It dropped onto the floor halfway across the kitchen, big globs of liquid flying out in an arch.
I was horrified I'd done it almost the second after it happened. I didn't like the reaction I got at all, in fact it haunted me for a long time. Jason had frozen on the spot but I could see his hands, now holding nothing, were shaking. The look on his face was pure fear.
I turned around and left. I ran back to my car and once inside gripped the steering wheel with trembling hands. I was upset, more than I could describe, and shocked I had behaved exactly like my Dad would have. I'd seen Dad get angry before, mostly it was just him shouting. When I was younger he'd slap me round the head if I was naughty.
It had been terrifying. I couldn't believe I'd done exactly the same thing. Worse still had been the look on Jason's face. I would never forget it.
When I was older, and thought about all of this a lot more, I realized that had been the look of someone who'd been hit before and knew what was coming. It was horrible to know he thought I was going to do that.
We didn't speak for three days. I felt so ashamed, I wanted to tell him how sorry I was. It still didn't address what I'd been trying to ask in the first place, but that paled in comparison now. I didn't want him to hate me.
I tried to catch his eye in class but he never looked my way. After three days, I took a deep breath and went over to him as class was dismissed. Amongst the bustle of students, hopefully no-one noticed.
‘Hi,’ I said, sounding as pathetic as I felt.
He looked up at me warily.
‘I'm sorry,’ I said quietly, desperate to tell him. ‘I...can I talk to you later?’
‘I'm busy later,’ he replied, eyes flickering away.
I swallowed back the sudden lump in my throat and held out a folded piece of paper, warm and rumpled from being squeezed in my hand. This was my plan B, in case he refused to talk to me.
‘I wrote this,’ I stated dumbly. ‘Would you read it?’
I held it out, and at first he didn't move. ‘Please?’
I must have sounded pretty desperate, as he accepted the paper from me. Then he turned away without saying another word. I wasn't sure if he'd read it or throw it in the trash.
I was a wreck all day, absolutely shambolic in football practice. Coach got frustrated and gave me a good chewing out in front of the guys. I felt so fed up I just took it, I couldn't feel angry any more. I felt heavy, like I was waiting for the end.
It was June, and although I didn't know it then the end was already in sight.
I'd never written anything important to anyone before, not like this. I'd never stepped over a line so badly that I had felt such a need to apologize, to explain myself. I had anticipated Jason not wanting to talk to me. I could hardly blame him. So just in case, I had written what I wanted to say on a torn out piece of workbook paper. I'd done it at home one night, instead of my Math assignment. After I'd screwed up a few of the first drafts and I had one I was satisfied with, I thought maybe in future I should communicate by writing. I wasn't a great talker, I was too shy.
Especially with Jason, I couldn't think straight when I was with him.
I hoped he would at least glance at my note. I re-read one of the copies to myself. I hadn't addressed it to him, just launched straight into it.
'Please don't be angry with me. I'm really sorry and I'd never hurt you.
'I'm no good at talking, I always say the wrong things. I didn't mean it how it sounded.
'I'll do whatever you want. Please don't hate me.'
I didn't even sign it. I was worried I would incriminate myself if anyone ever saw it. He knew it was me, that's all he needed to know.
I hadn't mentioned anything about money again. I didn't care now, I would get more money if that's what he wanted. I had to know he wasn't going to stop seeing me.
I stayed in that night and watched videos with my sisters. I stared at the television but I wasn't really seeing. I kept thinking, turning things over in my head.
Considering what happened next, it probably would've been easier if Jason had just continued to ignore me, and our little chapter could come to a close right there.
Saturday late afternoon Alicia came out to find me, carrying the telephone handset. I'd been scooping up the fallen leaves from the pool for something to do. I put the net down to take the phone from her. My heart pounded. ‘Hello?’
‘It's me,’ Jason said. ‘Are you busy?’
‘No,’ I answered quickly, like he probably knew I would.
‘Do you wanna come pick me up?’
Of course I did. We arranged a time. He said we should probably talk. I told him my parents were going out that night, it was Saturday.
Unfortunately my sisters weren't. Because I thought I'd have no other plans, I had agreed to stay home with them tonight.
I was determined to make this work.
My parents left the house around seven. Once my sisters were settled watching a film, I offered to run out and get them a takeaway. Of course they jumped at the prospect of greasy pizza.
When I came back I gave Alicia and Courtney their pizzas. They were so excited by it, and so engrossed in their film that they weren't both
ered by me saying I was going to do some studying.
I had already snuck Jason in and he was waiting for me upstairs. We hadn't spoken much in the car when I'd picked him up. Neither of us wanted to start an awkward conversation it seemed.
I hurried up to my room. Jason was sitting on my bed, nosing at the Math assignment I hadn't even started yet.
‘I thought you'd be ahead of me,’ he said.
I smiled nervously. ‘Not on Math.’
I shut the door and came to sit on the bed too, with some space between us to be polite. I didn't want to push things. It was difficult to concentrate though, when we'd been in this room so many times before and the memories of sex came to mind so easily. I glanced at my blank notebook and pot of pens on the desk. Next time I needed to say something I'd write it down, I thought.
Neither of us said anything. It made me more nervous.
‘Do you wanna put some music on?’ he suggested eventually.
I jumped at the idea to fill the silence. There were a few of his cassettes by my tape player, so anything I picked he was bound to like. Whatever I put in and started playing was one of those strange, electronic bands.
I sat back down on the bed. At least the music filled the gaps as I tried to begin speaking. I could feel the blood pumping round my ears, my head. Almost half the song drifted by and I still couldn't think of how to start.
It must have been obvious I was struggling. Jason shifted across the bed to sit next to me. I knew he was looking at me but I was too shy to raise my head. Instead I stared down at his leg, his hands. I watched as one of those hands reached over to gently touch the back of my hand.
I leapt at the contact and grasped his hand with both of mine, not too hard but firmly enough. This one action of holding hands was enough to tell me what I wanted to know; he didn't hate me at least. The rest we could work out later.
The Price of Falling Page 10