by K. C. Wells
“Time to change the sheets, babe. I’ll help you,” I suggested as I handed him a warm washcloth.
“Actually, I was thinking….”
“Uh-oh.”
“Quiet, peanut gallery,” he said, smacking my arm. “Let’s go shopping.”
“Um….”
“I know, I know. You hate it, but I promise to be quick! I need a new set of sheets at the rate we’re wearing them out, plus I have to get a birthday gift for my mom.” He batted his eyelashes at me. What was I supposed to say?
An hour and a half later, I found myself in my own personal version of hell… a department store catering to household goods and women’s wear. Ugh!
Sheets were easy. Aaron was very specific about thread count (700-plus only), color (charcoal), and brand (whatever it was, it was pricey). We were in and out of the bedding and linens section within fifteen minutes. The women’s department was another story. It was teeming with females, young, old, and everywhere in between, and the occasional sorry-looking husband or boyfriend trailing miserably behind them.
For the first time it struck me that I was still in the category of the miserable schmuck following his partner around in the mall, but my “partner” was a guy, not a girl. Aaron wasn’t just a friend I was accompanying to the mall. I had done this before, but with girlfriends. Aaron and I had done a lot of other things I’d done with women too. We’d gone to the movies, dinner, running, and the gym. Why did this feel different? I had a sudden moment of clarity that it was because I was doing something I didn’t really want to do to please Aaron. Not just to please him, though, but also because I wanted to be with him more than I didn’t want to be sniffing fragrances at the perfume counter on a Sunday morning.
Sure, we’d gone running in the rain and I hadn’t liked that, but that was physical exercise. I would be a wimp to not go with him. This was different. This going to the mall business reminded me of being a little boy trailing behind my mom, begging to go home. Invariably my siblings and I would fight, my mom would be angry with us, and chances were we’d be punished for being total brats. Not fun.
A wave of panic filled me. I felt suddenly sick to my stomach and out of sorts. I wanted out. Out of this overcrowded, overly warm department store. I looked for Aaron, who was busily chatting with a pretty young salesgirl about the nuances of a fruity versus musky scent. He didn’t seem to notice my internal freak-out session. The young girl was flirting with him, and he went right along with it, asking her opinion and charming her in general, the way he always seemed to do. Waiters, shop owners, bartenders… they all loved him. His affable, sweet manner and silly sense of humor drew people to him. I focused on him and could feel myself begin to relax. I was where I wanted to be. I was with Aaron, and for some inexplicable reason, he wanted to be with me too. Deep breath.
“Matt?”
I gave a start and turned away from Aaron and his new best friend, the perfume girl, to find Kristin standing at the counter behind me. She gave me a hesitant smile. We hadn’t seen one another in a couple months. It was obvious neither of us knew how to approach the other. This could be awkward.
“Hi. How are you?” That seemed safe enough.
“Good, good. What are you doing in a mall? You hate shopping.”
“I’m waiting for a friend.” A friend. Shit. This was about to get really awkward. I glanced nervously in Aaron’s direction, wondering how to handle this. Was this a coming-out moment? I felt that wave racing toward me, and my earlier bout of panic returned full force.
Kristin followed my gaze and gave me a sad smile. I caught on almost immediately that she assumed I was with Ms. Perfume, maybe waiting for her to finish work. This was a chance to dispel that theory. Was I brave enough? Was I ready?
“Hey, honey! There you are. I’m ready. I think I found one she’ll like.” Aaron put his hand on my arm as he was jostled by a hurried shopper.
Those surreal moments happen to everyone at some point in life. The ones where two worlds collide and no one is sure of how to react. This was certainly one of those bizarre events. Past girlfriend, current boyfriend (although neither of us had used the term yet), and the guy who knows them both but has no fucking idea how to introduce one to the other. Hence, he wishes himself anywhere but where he currently finds himself.
“Hi, I’m Aaron.” Aaron obviously had decided the uncomfortable silence had gone on a minute too long. He looked between the two of us as if for clues to the strange exchange we were all engaged in.
“Sorry. Aaron, this is Kristin.” My voice sounded weak to my own ears.
“Hi, Kristin! I just dragged Matt with me to find a gift. Sunday at the mall. So not his favorite.”
Was it my imagination, or had Aaron just turned into a girl? He had turned on his effeminate side full force. Awkward had gone to downright uncomfortable. He was projecting a “don’t mind me, I’m just his queer friend” vibe. It was strange and unsuited to who we had become.
“I remember,” Kristin replied weakly. “I’ll let you go. Nice to see you, Matt.”
I stared after her for no other reason than I didn’t know how to deal with Aaron, who stood beside me, ominously silent. What had happened here? More than a chance meeting with an ex who appeared to not quite be over “us” while with the man I was currently seeing. This was about me not addressing a significant change in my life. At that particular moment, however, it was more than I could deal with at all.
Aaron didn’t say a word as we left the congested department store and headed out toward the parking lot, I was quiet too. I needed a little space and time to process what had just occurred. I followed him up to his place and gathered my belongings while he unpacked his purchases. We made small talk about his mom’s birthday, but we both seemed a little relieved when I made my way to the front door. Or maybe that was just me.
“I’ll call you.” That sounded lame, but I wasn’t in the frame of mind to correct myself or explain my confused state of mind.
“Alrighty. Bye, Matty.”
Aaron stood on his toes and kissed my cheek. His eyes looked a little sad and watery. I should have said something to get the balance back. I could have made a joke about adventures at the mall and how I’d warned him I was a terrible shopper. But I said nothing. The absence of laughter, teasing, and touching was felt, and the air was heavy with unspoken questions and grievances. I leaned down to kiss his cheek in return and made my escape.
I spent the rest of that day burying my head in law books. When I emerged from my room that night, Curt, Dave, and Jason were sitting around a pizza, taking turns playing killing games on the Xbox. I grabbed a beer and plopped myself in the ratty old armchair. Someone offered me the controls at some point and I took over. The stupid game did more to agitate me than seeing Kristin and pondering my relationship with Aaron had earlier. I lost badly to Dave and chucked the control angrily at the chair, yelling, “Fuck it,” as I stormed out of the living room.
I heard my friends asking each other what the hell was my problem. And that certainly was a good question. What the hell was my problem? Was this the big freak-out Aaron had asked about a couple of months ago? A delayed reaction of sorts. I owed him an apology. I’d call him tomorrow, I decided. I needed to do a little soul-searching first.
There was a soft knock on my bedroom door, and Curt peeked his head in a second later.
“Not going to wait to be invited in?” I asked sarcastically.
“No, in the mood you’re in, I doubt you would grant me entry. What’s up? Girl trouble? Guy trouble?”
I moved some textbooks out of the way and leaned back against my headboard, staring up at the ceiling while trying to gather my thoughts. Curt was the perfect confidante, but I was reluctant to share. He sat in my desk chair and pulled it closer to the bed so he could put his feet up.
“Comfortable?” I sounded like a sullen kid.
“Yep. Now, spill it. I’m a patient guy until you mess with my Xbox, asshole. What’s going on wi
th you?”
“Sorry about that. I hate losing to Dave.”
“And Jason and me. You hate losing, period, but you don’t usually throw shit. Did you have a fight?”
I sighed heavily and finally looked Curt in the eye. Talking to him would help.
“No. Two things happened. The mall, and we bumped into Kristin.” I raised an eyebrow, hoping he could infer everything from that tiny bit of info. He didn’t disappoint.
“So, first of all, what the fuck were you doing in the mall? It’s not Christmas Eve. Must have been talked into it. That would be the small head leading you, I bet. Then you ran into Kristin while in the company of your new ‘friend’.” He air quoted. “You were flustered because you were in unfriendly territory, aka The Mall, and you freaked when past ran into present. Am I right?”
“Fuck. You are good. Yes, that’s exactly it. I freaked. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I didn’t know what to do. I just froze. It was uncomfortable and weird. Aaron is probably pissed too.”
“Why? Did you pretend you didn’t know him or something?”
“No, but I didn’t go out of my way to introduce him as my boyfriend or significant person either. He knows her name, he knows who she is, but… ugh! I froze, I freaked. Aaron asked me if I would do this. I thought I was cool with everything, but I don’t know.”
“Hold on. Dude, give yourself a break. This is the first time you’ve been in a ‘relationship’”—I rolled my eyes at his air quotes this time—“with a guy. No one is comfy cozy when ex and current meet. This would be no different if you had been with a girl and ran into Kristin.”
“Maybe. But it is different, right? Because we’re two guys, I feel like I need to explain. Not for Kristin’s sake, but for Aaron’s. I mean, shouldn’t I be wearing a rainbow shirt and introducing him as my boyfriend with a big fucking smile on my face? He deserves more than people assuming that we’re just friends. I really like him. If he were a girl, I wouldn’t hesitate to put my arm around him and introduce him. I mean, I’m not ashamed. I just don’t know how to go forward.” I paused and looked over at Curt, willing him to understand. “Does that even make sense?”
“Yeah, it does. And like it or not, it’s a baby step in ‘coming out’. You’ve never had a boyfriend, Matt. But seriously, is it really that different than dating a girl? I mean, sex aside, and I’m not going there.” He shivered dramatically for effect. “I’m referring to respect. You’re with someone romantically, you acknowledge them. Simple, right?”
“We haven’t exactly had the old let’s be boyfriends talk yet. We just said we’d take it slow. I think that was Aaron realizing I’d fuck up, so let’s not get too serious.”
“You’re turning into a drama queen.”
“Fuck off.”
“Seriously, talk to him. Tell him you freaked. Ask him about being ‘boyfriends’. Assure him that seeing Kristin was just weird and you aren’t wishing you were back together. Make sure he knows you want to continue being a big fat homo with him.”
I threw a pillow at him, which he neatly dodged.
“You make it sound so simple.”
“I just think it’s normal to freak. Aaron sounds like a cool guy. He must be, if you’re willing to engage in hot kinky man sex with him.”
I gave him my best dirty look.
“No details? Fine. Whatever. My point is gay relationships are the same as straight ones. Communicate. You don’t communicate and it all goes to shit.”
Curt stood up to leave.
“Thanks.”
“No problem, man. But if you throw my controllers again, I’ll have to kill you.”
I took a deep breath. Curt was right. I’d call Aaron tomorrow to talk.
I SENT Aaron a “good morning” text first thing Monday before heading off to class. I had a full day ahead of me, and I was hoping we could meet later that night. Aaron usually returned text messages immediately. His phone was practically glued to his hand. The guy was a social media enthusiast. When I didn’t receive a text from him by noon, I began to worry. Unfortunately, I was due at the law office and didn’t have a chance to do more than send a second message. By late afternoon, when neither text was returned, I had a feeling something was up. I called his cell, but it went straight to voice mail. Not good.
I got a little obnoxious and started leaving messages every hour.
“Aaron, hi. Call me when you get a chance. I was hoping we could maybe go have dinner tonight. You free?”
“Hi again. I haven’t heard back from you. Busy day? Call me when you get a minute.”
“Where are you? Did you have a good day? Call me. I want to talk to you.”
“Baby, please. You’re mad, aren’t you? Call me.”
“Aaron, please. Call me.”
I had to talk myself out of going to his apartment. A ton of messages and texts should get the message across. If he didn’t call me in the morning, though, all bets were off.
I sent him a text first thing the next morning. Again, no response. At noon, I sent a very long text.
Ok ur mad.
U must b. I’m sorry. Plz call me.
We nd to talk. R u home tonite?
I want 2come over
Please
Nothing. Nada. Zilch. I was getting mad. I hated the silent treatment. Really hated it. If you’re pissed off at me, be pissed off. But don’t ignore me, damn it. My anger turned to concern when I realized I hadn’t heard anything from him in forty-eight hours. I checked online to see if he’d posted anything, but it looked like he had gone radio silent there also. I called again, left yet another pathetic “please call me” message before getting in my car and heading over to his place.
His BMW was parked on the street in front of his building, so I figured he was home. Or wait, maybe he went out. I drove when we went out because he hated to lose a prime parking spot, plus he hated driving, and in my opinion was a menace on the roads. Did he have a date? Was there someone else? We hadn’t said we were exclusive. We’d never said we were committed. The word “boyfriend” never was mentioned. We were going slow. Aaron wanted it that way. Fuck! My errant head was a mess in more ways than one. Jealousy was eating a hole in my stomach with just the thought of him with someone else.
I decided not to call or text that I was out front. I was sure I would keep getting the silent treatment. A sneak attack was called for. I waited until I saw another tenant enter the main door and slipped in with her. Making my way to his floor, I said a brief prayer that he would (a) talk to me, and (b) be alone. I had worked myself into a cool sweat by the time I actually knocked on his door. There was no music blaring from inside, so I figured he heard my knock. I tried again, louder this time. I became concerned that no music was a bad thing. Desperate now, I started thinking he was hurt. Maybe he wasn’t answering because he couldn’t. I banged on the door and yelled for him to open it.
“Aaron! It’s me. Please open the door. You are freaking me out. You haven’t returned my calls or messages for two fucking d….”
The door opened abruptly and an irate-looking Aaron was impatiently waving me in.
“For fuck’s sake! Would you keep it down! Jesus, Matt. The neighbors will be calling the police. Come in already!”
I breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped into his apartment. He was fine. I quickly switched to anger. That meant I was being ignored. What the fuck?
“Why have you been avoiding me? You haven’t responded to my texts, calls. I went from irritated to concerned to fucking frantic over forty-eight fucking hours. Geez.” I paced while I blasted him. I had all this crazy energy now. The man was making me nuts.
He stood in his entryway with his arms folded, giving me an appraising stare. He must have just returned from work. He was wearing a pair of tight-fitting khaki dress pants with a blue-and-white striped oxford shirt. Gorgeous. I wanted to reach out, grab him, touch him, brush his hair away from his eyes, run my hands over his ass. None of that was going to happen, according
to his body language. Something was up. I’d been given the silent treatment for a reason, and it seemed as though I was finally going to find out why.
“So, you’re telling me that you were banging on my door like a man possessed because you were worried about me? What were you going to do? Break the damn door down? Calm yourself, He-Man. I’m fine.”
“How the hell would I know that? You have been ignoring me for days!” I was trying not to lose my cool, but he was frustrating, to say the least.
Aaron let out a long, tired sigh, unfolded his arms, and walked into his kitchen.
“Want anything to drink?” He grabbed a water bottle and tossed one to me before I could answer.
“Thanks.” I followed him back into his living room and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. My hands were clammy. I had a sinking sensation I wasn’t going to like whatever he had to say. His posture was rigid and tense. He wasn’t happy.
“Matt. I can’t do this.” He held up a hand to stop me from speaking. “I had a feeling that the straight guy turned gay was a bad idea for me, and I was right.”
“Aaron, you’re being dramatic. Why is this a bad idea? Everything about this, me and you, is good.”
He shook his head. He looked tired and resigned. Neither were good signs for me.
“Look, I said we’d go slow and see how we feel. The other day, Matt… you looked so miserable being with me. And when we ran into your ex. Ugh. First of all, you never told me how beautiful she was or that she was head over heels in love with you. Did you even notice how she looked at you? No. I bet not. I’m not sure what you told her before you introduced us, but it certainly wasn’t, ‘Hey, that’s the guy I’m sleeping with.’ Not that I expected it, but fuck! You looked so unhappy, so trapped. It was everything I was afraid of.” He paused, visibly upset. “Matt, I’m gay. I’m out, I’m proud. I don’t know how to be anything or anyone else. I never have. My dad has been lamenting the fact for years now, hoping I’ll grow out of it and bring home a nice Catholic girl. It will never happen. For you, it could happen.”