Davy might be a problem. I’ll have to deal with him sooner or later. But then again, tomorrow might be the day Tabby decides she’s going to ruin our lives, so maybe I won’t have to after all. I have to remember I’m living on borrowed time. Better enjoy it while I can.
“Everything all right?” Chris asks as I climb into the passenger seat.
I adjust the air vent, so it blows directly on my face. “Everything’s peachy.”
“Okie dokie then.” He flips the radio on, pulling out of the parking lot.
I prop myself against the window, watching the lights of the city twinkle from afar.
“Oh my god.” My fork clanks against the empty plate. “I’m so full.”
Chris watches with wide eyes across the table.
“What?” I graze my fingers across my lips. “Is there something on my face?”
“No.” He shakes the look from his face. “I’ve just never seen pasta disappear so quickly.”
“I told you I was starving,” I say, cheeks burning.
He laughs, then sips on his cherry Coke.
My phone goes off and I have a small panic attack. It’s my mother. “Shit! Keep quiet,” I tell Chris, swiping to answer the call. “Hey, Mom. What’s up?”
“Where are you?” She comes out swinging.
“Uh… We got hungry, so we’re on our way to a drive-thru.”
“Got it.” She seems convinced. “How’s the plotting and graphing going, sweetie?”
“Graphing?”
“They still graph in geometry, right?”
Shit. I totally forgot that’s what I told her this afternoon. “Right! The graphing is going great! I think we’re about to move onto scatter plots.”
“Ooo,” Mom coos with excitement. “I love statistics! Give me a call if you two get stuck, I can help out!”
“Y-yeah, I’ll do that.”
“Good,” she says.
I hear Rosy in the background calling for her.
“Got to go, sweetie. Try not to have too much fun, you’re still grounded.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Love you.”
“Love-you-bye.”
Chris snickers as I hang up the phone.
“What?” I ask.
“Graphing? What exactly did you tell her we were doing tonight?”
“Geometry homework,” I say, and that really gets him going. “Why is that funny?”
“Because,” he replies, grinning. “I’m in Calculus.”
“Oops. Guess I should have asked.”
“I think we’ll be okay. I’m more interested in just how you managed to convince your parents to let you out.”
“Rosy totally saved my ass, actually,” I admit. “I was bombing, hardcore, but she swooped in and took out both parents at once. She’s scary sometimes.”
“Sounds like it.” Chris laughs. “It must be nice, having someone that has your back.”
“Honestly, it’s still a new feeling. It wasn’t long ago, we just got on each other’s nerves. You’re so lucky you don’t have any siblings to torture you.”
“I’ve actually always wanted an older brother or sister,” Chris says, pushing his ravioli in a figure eight on his plate. “Someone to look up to, ya know? Who would come to bat for me if I needed them.”
“Sounds nice.” I laugh. “I want a sibling like that too.”
“Yikes.” Chris makes a face. “Is Tommy that bad?”
“It’s not just the tormenting. That’s normal for most siblings. I dunno, I guess it’s different with Tommy and me. We never really bonded. I mean, the only thing we have in common is swimming. So, all our conversations revolve around that. I can only say so much about the butterfly stroke.
“We weren’t into the same stuff. He liked football, and Star Trek, and girls. I like graphic novels, and Harry Potter, but…not girls.”
“So, you don’t miss him?”
“I don’t know yet, I guess. He’s only been gone for a few weeks, though. It may change.”
Honestly, there’s been so much going on the past month, I haven’t had time to settle down and think about Tommy. I wonder how he’s doing out there. Maybe I’ll text him tomorrow, just to check in.
“Are we ready for dessert, guys?”
Our server just so happens to be ridiculously attractive. Imagine that.
“What do you think?” Chris looks to me.
“Oh, hell yeah. Can I get tiramisu?”
“Same,” echoes Chris.
“You got it,” hot-sever-guy says, taking our entrée plates.
“What happened to ‘I’m so full?’”
“There’s always room for dessert, duh.”
“Oooh, I see.”
He grins, and I do too. We probably look like a couple on their first date. Which is exactly what is happening, and that fact is starting to sink in. How’d we get here again?
“Um…” I start, but hot-server-guy returns with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry guys, we’re down to our last slice. Did you want to share it?”
“Totally,” Chris says with a smirk.
“Awesome.” He sets the plate down in the center of the table, placing a spoon on either side. “Let me know if you need anything else.”
The edge of the plate is covered in little hearts drawn with chocolate sauce. The back of my neck starts to itch. I slash through a few of them with my spoon, feeling very self-conscious.
“Everything okay?” Chris looks at me. And I want to say yes, but I’m also trying not to freak out, so I just nod my head.
Half way through dessert, I ask a question.
“Where are we?”
“Um…Sandy Springs? I think it’s called Little Italy, but I can check the menu.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes. “That’s not what I meant. Where are we. What are we doing right now?”
“Ah.” Chris sets his spoon down, arms folding across his chest. “Well, Mike. Where do you want us to be?”
“I’m not really sure I know.”
“Look,” he says and unfurls his arms, “if this is about last night, don’t worry about it. I’d never hold anything you to anything you did while blackout drunk.”
“But what if…?” I pause, trying to swallow the frog in my throat. “What if I liked it?”
“Did you?”
My face burns as I nod.
“Then I guess that’s different,” he replies, fingers fiddling with the edge of the tablecloth. “To be honest, Mike, I have no idea where we stand.”
He looks up, dark eyes trained on mine like he’s trying to read my thoughts. I wish I could just tell him what I’m thinking, but it’s way too jumbled to come up with anything coherent. Thoughts aren’t doing me any good at the moment, so I focus on what I’m feeling. A familiar gnawing fills my stomach, twisting its way through my intestines. My heart has adopted a strange fluttery rhythm for the last minute or so. It keeps fluctuating every time Chris makes eye contact with me.
His hand slides across the table, closer to me and all of these squirmy, weird feeling intensify, He pauses, licks his lips, teeth scraping against the bottom one.
Holy shit, I really want to kiss him right now.
In unison, we wave over to hot-server-guy.
“Check?” I mouth, and I think he gets the idea.
Chris grins like an idiot, and I’m sure I’m blushing more than I care to admit.
It seems like an eternity for us to settle the check, and by the time I get my change, Chris and I are running out the front door.
We jump in his car, the engine purring to life. It takes us a minute to find a secluded spot, but that just helps the anticipation to build. It’s difficult to keep my hands to myself as he parks, shutting the lights off.
He looks at me, dark eyes catching the smallest specks of light. I swallow hard.
The distance between us disappears as we collide, dipping my head slightly to align our lips. We exhale in sync, and Chris grabs hol
d of both shoulders, pulling me into him as our kiss deepens. My fingers wrap around the edges of his shirt, clawing for more.
We’re panting like animals as we break apart, his hands still clinging to my shoulders. We take a second, each catching our breath.
“Was that okay?” he asks.
“Um, yes. Very okay. Super amazingly okay. The okayest. The most—”
“I get it.” He smiles, pleased with himself. “Follow me.”
With a bit of difficultly, he climbs over the center console and into the back seat. I’ve never moved so quickly in my life.
We face each other, my breath still heavy with excitement. The next collision is just as passionate— lips, tongue, teeth, and sweat. When I break away to trail down his neck, Chris lets out a groan that melts my insides into a puddle.
“Oh God….” Chris mutters as I scrape teeth against his skin.
His reaction just eggs me on, and I nibble my way down to his collarbone.
“S-stop. Stop for a second.”
I pull away from his chest, but I can’t stop myself at this point. I kiss him, and he kisses me back, my hands running up his thighs. He shivers against my touch as I graze the front of his crotch, letting out a whimper.
It’s the hottest noise I’ve ever heard.
That’s all the encouragement I needed. His lips part and I feel his tongue hit mine as I drag my palm against the front of his jeans. He bucks in response, grinding himself against me.
Chris straddles my leg, and my head tilts upward as we continue to make out. He moves back and forth, the bulge of his jeans rubbing on my thigh. It strikes me, while his tongue is down my throat, that Chris isn’t really experienced in this capacity.
And yet, for someone new to the game, he sure can hold his own.
“Mike,” he whispers, pausing his motion.
I brush against him, and he squirms.
“No, no, no…. Shit!” He flops backward on the seat, and a dark stain spreads along the front of his jeans. His face, which is already flushed, turns three shades deeper.
“Whoa.” I laugh. “I guess someone’s having a good time.”
“I-I…I’m sorry.” He attempts to cover it with his shirt.
“Dude, relax.” I assure him, “It happens all the time.”
“Really?”
“Oh yeah.” I laugh. “Especially with me. I guess I’m just that good.”
“Pfft,” Chris huffs.
He smiles again, and it makes me want to kiss him over and over, but I restrain myself.
We both take a ragged breath, just watching each other for God only knows how long.
“Are we going to talk about what just happened?”
“Only if you want to,” he replies.
“I think we should,” I say. Or we could just keep making out. I’m rock hard over here.
He nods but doesn’t speak.
“I think I might like you, Chris.”
“W-hat did you say?” His voice cracks.
“I said I like you.”
“You said you think you might like me.”
“See? You heard me just fine.”
He latches onto my arm, no hint of joking in his eyes. “Please don’t say that just for my sake.” His fingers dig into me.
“I’m not,” I tell him, peeling his hand off me. “Look, even through all this bullshit, I can’t help what I’m feeling right now. Being with you, kissing you, it just feels right. And I don’t know why, it just does.”
He lets go, jaw tight, leaning back against the car door.
“Is something wrong?” I ask, reaching for him. He shies away from my touch.
“I-I just need a minute,” Chris says, sitting up. He takes deep, calculated breaths.
“Did I say something?”
He doesn’t answer, just stares blankly ahead.
I’m starting to freak. Did I fuck this up? Or is he coming to his senses now he’s jizzed. “Chris, I’m sorry if I did something—”
He holds his hand up to silence me. I wait as he takes another ragged breath.
“I’m sorry, Michael. This isn’t you, okay? I just… I have to process this.”
I nod. “Take all the time you need.”
“I never thought this would happen,” Chris finally says. “Or at least, not like this. I mean, honestly the first time I said I had a crush on you, I was enamored with an idea. This beautiful lie we could somehow be together, and maybe you could help chase these doubts I had away.
“But then you found the book and I realized you weren’t this fantasy I’d imagined, you were a real person, scared out of his mind. Who was I to try and fit you inside this delusion I wanted for myself? So, I had to let go of those plans, and hope I’d be able to find new ones. I’d let go of that infatuation, in search of something real.
“And once again, here you are Mike, fucking up my plans. The more time I spend with you, the more infatuation becomes something else entirely.”
The moisture in his eyes catch twinkles of light.
“And last night, you could have blown me over with a fucking feather after you kissed me. I knew I’d royally screwed things up between us from the start, but for a second, I knew what it felt like to have you want me, and it scared me shitless.
“I’m still scared Mike, for so many reasons, but most importantly because I don’t want to screw this up again.” He stops to let out a sigh. “I know I’m kinda dumping this on you but—”
Burying my fingers in his shirt, I pull him into me, our lips meeting for the thousandth time tonight. He folds into me as if his body were made to compliment mine.
We separate, and he looks to me for answers I can’t give him.
“Stop,” I tell him. “Just stop thinking for one night. We have enough going on right now. Let’s just enjoy tonight and leave tomorrow in tomorrow.”
He nods, wiping at the sides of his face. “God, look at me.” He laughs. “I gotta get my shit together.”
“You never have your shit together,” I tease. “That’s one of your more endearing qualities.”
He smacks my chest, but smiles.
“Do I need to get you home?”
“Fuck ‘em I’m already grounded.”
He falls on top of me again, and that’s all I can fit in my head.
At just before eleven, we pull into the driveway, Chris flipping the lights off to avoid drawing any extra attention.
“Here we are,” he announces, fingers laced in mine. They’ve been that way the entire way home, and I’m in no hurry to change that.
“Yup.” I nod my head. “We certainly are. Here.”
A stretch of time passes, and I don’t move.
“Mike?” Chris squeezes my hand.
I ignore him, soaking up every last moment of tonight. Tomorrow starts another day. Another day of constant anxiety that it might be the last normal day I have. Everything will change when word gets out. If it hasn’t already. And I don’t know if I’m ready for it.
“You okay?” Chris asks, and this time I look at him. He must see what I’m thinking because he just nods. “I know how you feel. But you can’t just stay in my car all night.”
“Why not?” I laugh.
“I’d imagine your parents might freak out if you don’t make an appearance.”
“But I’m with Chris Myers, I can do no wrong!”
“There’s plenty of wrong we can get into,” Chris says, “but tonight’s not the night.”
I know he’s right, but it doesn’t make this any easier.
“When I open this door.” I rest a hand on the handle. “Then time starts again, and I have to worry about what’s going to happen when we walk into school tomorrow. And how I’m going to go one more day pretending to be the person my parents think I am. And how I’m going to lie to my friends, and to my family, and to myself.”
I let out a staggered breath. “I don’t think I can do this anymore, Chris.”
“Okay,” he replies, tugging on m
y arm so I turn back to him. “Then let’s think this through. What would happen if we waltzed into Stronghold tomorrow, as a couple?”
“We’d be kicked out of school,” I tell him. “Plus, your father would probably disown you. My parents would probably blame themselves and then have me go to conversion therapy, or worse, one of those camps.”
The words come out before I can stop them.
Chris stiffens in his seat.
“I’m so sorry,” I start. “Chris, I didn’t mean to bring—”
“It’s fine,” he tells me, though I’m certain it isn’t. “Okay, so that all happens. Let’s say we’re expelled, tossed out of our homes, and left to fend for ourselves. Would it be worth not having to hid anymore?”
It’s another one of his impossible question.
“I want to say, yes,” I admit, “it would be worth it in the end, and I could finally look myself in the eye and not hate the coward staring back at me. But I can’t, Chris. I honestly don’t know if I could do it—give up everything.”
“So, you forfeit who you are.”
“That’s not fair.”
“None of this is,” he replies. “But that doesn’t change anything.”
“Are you telling me you’re ready?” I question, anger flaring. “You’d give it all up tomorrow, throw your life away just to tell the world you’re gay?”
“What life?”
I jump as Chris slams a fist on the steering wheel.
“This isn’t living, Mike. This hiding and shame and self-torment, I’m sick of it! I’m so tired of hating myself for something I didn’t have any say in and pretending to worship a god that doesn’t care. For once in my stupid existence, I want to like myself!”
He crosses his arms, exhaling.
“And you think coming out will let you do that?”
“Not entirely,” he answers, gaze focused forward through the windshield. “But it would be a start. A step in the right direction. And if I have to forfeit my comfort to do that, then I say yes. It’s worth it.”
Would he really do it? Would he risk everything he has ever known for this? I’m not naïve enough to believe this is about me. He’s been wanting this longer than he has wanted me.
“Open the door, Mike,” Chris says, looking over. “Or don’t. But you have to know one thing. If it never opens, you’ll always be stuck.”
There Goes Sunday School Page 24