End of the Innocence

by John Goode

  “I do,” I said, telling the truth. “I am sure she didn’t do this to Kelly.”

  “Then who the hell did it?” he asked rhetorically.

  “Could have been anyone at the party.” Which was true; anyone could have hacked Sammy’s phone. But anyone hadn’t. Someone had.

  He thought about it for a moment and then shook his head. “Well, I’m glad it wasn’t her,” he said, going back to counting the money. “I know you like her as a friend.”

  “I do,” I said, trying not to breathe a sigh of relief when he changed topics. I hated lying to him, but confronting Jeremy wouldn’t help, and kicking his ass would just confirm for him that the world was out to get him and justify what he had done. I decided to keep the information close and see if there was anything I could do with it in the future.

  “So you wanna order a pizza and watch movies at your house?” he asked, closing the register.

  I banished the thoughts of Jeremy and smiled back at him. “You read my mind.”

  BRAD

  THIS was going to be my first Christmas as an adult.

  Okay, let me rephrase that. This was going to be my first Christmas not being a little kid. I had a job, which meant a paycheck, so I actually had gone out and bought people presents with my own money.

  When you’re a kid, Christmas seems like one big party because you never have to give presents; you just sit on the floor and receive them. Your parents put your name on something they bought and your aunt or your grandfather or your cousin pretends it is from you, sure, but they know it’s not. For a kid, Christmas is all about getting and not giving.

  This year was my first year giving.

  I bought my mom some perfume and my dad a set of golf tees, not the best presents but about all I could afford with my paycheck and still have enough to buy something special for Kyle. Then, out of nowhere, Mr. Parker gave me an envelope the Monday before Christmas, saying I had been a lifesaver this year, and he was very grateful.

  It had five hundred bucks in it!

  I had never had so much money that was all mine in my entire life! Half a dozen things I could buy for Kyle went through my mind before it came up with what I should buy. I went to Better Buy and talked with Kyle’s mom on her break, and we agreed on a plan.

  I hadn’t said a word to Kyle about any plans for Christmas, so on Christmas morning, when I knocked on Kyle’s front door bright and early, he looked a little sleepy and a lot confused to see me standing there so early.

  “Brad?” he asked rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”

  “Does it matter?” I asked, wrapping my arms around him and kissing him. “It’s Christmas; that’s the only thing that counts.”

  He closed the door. “What about your parents?”

  I laughed and plunked down on the couch. “My dad’s dealership had their Christmas party last night. They won’t be moving until noon.” I patted my lap. “Now come over here and tell me what you want for Christmas.”

  He glanced nervously over at his mom’s closed bedroom door. “Brad, we can’t do anything out here,” he said quietly.

  I reached up and grabbed his hand, pulling him into my lap. “Relax, we aren’t going to do it right here.” He laughed as he fell into me.

  “You’re crazy!” he exclaimed, realizing I wasn’t going to let him up.

  “I believe we have covered that,” I said, kissing his neck. “Several different times if I am not mistaken.”

  He sighed as he leaned into my mouth on him for a moment before pushing off. “Brad, don’t start!” he complained. “She can walk out at any moment!”

  “Okay, okay,” I laughed. “How about we just trade presents?” Instantly, Kyle’s expression went serious.

  “Mine is lame,” he said, sounding depressed. “I’m just warning you now.”

  “How about you give me those boxers you’re wearing and we call it even?” I asked with an evil grin.

  He slapped my chest again. “Who worked you up this morning?”

  I ran a hand over his hair. “It’s this bed head; I swear it turns me on.” I saw the blush working up from his chest to his forehead. He tried to pat the unruly locks down. “Okay, then… me first,” I said, reaching into my jacket pocket.

  “No!” he said, stopping me. “Because yours is going to rock, and then I’ll be too embarrassed to give you mine. Let me go first.”

  I put the package back, sighing. “You, sir, are a few beers short of a six-pack. Anyone tell you that?”

  “No. To be fair, though, I didn’t know anyone who spoke fluent douchebag before we started dating,” he explained. He half stood, half crab walked to the small Christmas tree near the end of the couch.

  I put a hand over my chest as if I had been shot. “I speak English!” I mock protested.

  Kyle paused in midsearch for my present. “Uhm….”

  And I started to laugh.

  He grabbed a small box and handed it over to me. “You can say if you hate it,” he added.

  I shook it slightly before starting to unwrap it. Inside was one of those ball chains, like the ones dog tags come on. I pulled the chain from the box and came to a dead stop, midmotion.

  Four coins, each pierced by a small hole, dangled from the chain: three quarters, a nickel, and a penny.

  My eighty-one cents.

  “Oh my God,” I whispered, instantly choking up. My present was stupid compared to this. Each coin had been polished and sealed in lacquer, making them look like precious gems instead of just plain pieces of money.

  “You don’t have to wear it,” Kyle explained quickly. “I just couldn’t think of anything to get you.”

  I undid the chain and put it around my neck. The coins jingled faintly when I let them drop in place onto my chest. “I’m never going to take it off,” I said, looking down at the coins and touching each one tentatively, completely thrown by the gift. When I thought about what I had for Kyle, I suddenly felt like a complete asshole.

  “You really like it?” he asked, still not believing my reaction.

  “No, I really like baseball,” I explained quietly, looking over at him. “I love this.” Because there were no words left in me, I kissed him to say “thank you” and “I love you” and a lot of other things I knew I couldn’t even begin to describe.

  Suddenly, he pulled back a little and, eyes alight, asked, “So what did you get me?” His grin and his excitement made him look like a little kid.

  “Um, now I feel lame,” I said, wishing I had put more thought into my gift.

  “Oh come on, you were all fired up a second ago,” he teased. “Show me.”

  I slowly pulled the box out of my pocket and handed it to him. “I’m going to get you something real now too,” I added quickly.

  He tore off the wrapping paper and stared at the box, speechless. It took him more than a few seconds to find his brain, it had gone into so much shock. He asked, “Are you serious?” I nodded, gesturing for him to open it.

  Fingers shaking, he removed the box top and pulled out a brand new iPhone. He held it with a reverence I had seen mothers use to handle their babies. He pushed the top button, and the screen lit up to reveal a picture of the two of us on our date at Nancy’s. Gayle had shared it with me a couple of weeks ago, and I had begged her for a copy. He just stared at the phone and shook his head. “I… I can’t take this,” he said, pushing it back to me. “It’s way too expensive.”

  I pressed the phone back into his hands. Firmly. “Well, one, it’s paid for and, two, no it isn’t.”

  “How did you even afford this?” he asked, his voice somewhere between anger and amazement.

  “Tyler gave me a bonus,” I answered, smiling. “And I know how much you hate your phone.” I unlocked the screen, and his eyes lit up as the icons sparkled back at him.

  He shook his head again and locked the phone down. “No. I can’t afford a phone like this. The data plan alone is more than my whole cell phone bill.” Reluctantly, he put it b
ack in the box and tried to close the lid.

  I put a hand over his and stopped him. “I already talked to your mom, and it’s taken care of.” I opened the box again. “Merry Christmas, Kyle.”

  He stared at me, and even I could see he was overwhelmed by the gift. “You spent your whole bonus on me?”

  “I bought my boyfriend a Christmas present,” I said, leaning over, giving him a kiss. “Just accept it and tell me thank you.”

  He threw his arms around me and hugged me tight. I hugged him back and kissed him again. A lot.

  But, between you and me? His gift was much better than mine.

  KYLE

  I SUPPOSE you could say I got an iPhone for eighty-one cents.

  I wasn’t looking at it that way, but every time I thought I knew Brad and what he was capable of, he did something like this and floored me. We stayed on the couch thanking each other for our gifts for about an hour before my mom woke up. She marveled over my new phone and then over the perfume I had bought her as a present. Around eleven, Brad’s mom called and asked where he was, which meant he had to get home for his own Christmas.

  I asked my mom if she had anything planned for us, and she shook her head, which was not a surprise since we didn’t celebrate holidays a lot. I asked Brad for a ride to Kelly’s because I wanted to check up on him and see how he was doing. I could tell Brad wasn’t fired up about me going to the Aimes’s, but he didn’t say anything and just nodded.

  The whole town was shut down for the day.

  The roads between my apartment and Kelly’s house might just as well have been in Siberia, there was so little traffic. Foster looked like it had been hit by a zombie attack while we slept. Not one store was open, and there wasn’t a soul to be seen on the streets. It was honestly half-creepy and half-beautiful with no one around.

  “So do you want me to wait?” he asked as he pulled into the neighborhood where Kelly lived.

  “Nah, I’ll just walk home,” I assured him.

  “It’s freezing outside,” he argued. “If you won’t let me wait, will you at least call me when you’re done?”

  “But you’ll be with your folks doing the whole Christmas thing,” I tried to reason.

  He leaned in. “Call. Me,” he insisted.

  I rolled my eyes and nodded. “Fine, I’ll call on my new phone!” I said holding it up in front of him. He laughed in reply and put the car in park for a minute. “Merry Christmas,” I said to him, giving him a kiss. He paused and looked past me at the front of the house. A frown settled on his lips, and he cocked his head to one side, confused, so I looked over my shoulder.

  Kelly balanced precariously on a footstool and reached up to grab one of several things hanging all around the front porch. I couldn’t tell what they were from where we were. “Is he taking down decorations already?” Brad asked squinting.

  “I don’t know,” I replied, equally confused. “I’ll check.”

  Brad was about to turn off the car to go with me when his phone rang again. “Fuck,” he said, looking down at the screen. “I need to go. You okay?”

  I waved him off. “Go already! I’m fine.”

  He stuck his tongue out at me before he slipped the car into gear and drove off.

  I jammed my hands into my jacket pockets and walked toward Kelly. He was still trying to pull whatever they were off of the gutter of the porch’s roof. They were long, and for a second I thought maybe they were fake icicles.

  When I got closer I saw they were clear jelly dildos.

  Someone had hung a dozen of them all around the front porch, and Kelly was trying his best to pull them down. He didn’t even look back at me. “If you think I bought you a present, you’re nuts,” he said, yanking on one of them.

  “Who did this?” I asked, disgusted.

  He shrugged as he hauled at the sex toy again. “Who knows? Some guys with way too much time on their hands.” The dildo broke, and Kelly almost tumbled backward off the footstool. I grabbed his legs and steadied him as he clung to the porch roof. “Thanks,” he said, hurling the plastic dong to the side. “So, making sure I am still sucking air?”

  I looked up at him. “What?”

  He grabbed the next one. “Nothing. So what brings you to my house on Christmas Day?”

  “I can’t stop by and check up on you?” I asked as I held him in place.

  “You make me sound like I’m on death watch. I’m fine,” he said, pulling the next one free.

  “I know, you just need friends right now,” I said as he stepped off the stool and set it farther down the porch so he could work on the next. “Whether you like it or not.”

  He tossed another one onto the lawn. “Well, I don’t.”

  “Nice to know,” I said, ignoring him.

  “Man, you do not give up, do you?” he said, yanking on the last one.

  “Nope.”

  He climbed down, the last offensive piece of silicone in his hand. “Well then, you might as well come in and warm up.” He handed it over to me. “And Merry Christmas.”

  I threw it back at him, and he ran away trying to dodge it.

  I am pretty sure we then engaged in Foster’s first dildo fight.

  About an hour later, we threw them all away and went inside. The whole house smelled of food, and I actually heard my stomach grumble. Kelly paused, taking off his jacket, and looked back at me. “Hungry much?”

  I blushed as I put my coat up next to his. “Sorry. I didn’t eat before I left.”

  He looked at me strangely. “You really just came over on Christmas Day to make sure I was okay?” I nodded. He gave me a small grin. “Queer.”

  He laughed as I pushed him down the hall.

  They had made enough food to feed the Russian army. I just thought Mrs. Aimes had overestimated her cooking abilities until Kelly explained that all the people who had been invited over for a Christmas meal had canceled. Most were from their church and had called only that morning to say they weren’t going to make it, knowing the food was already cooking.

  “They sound like assholes,” I commented as we sat upstairs in Kelly’s room, waiting for the food.

  He nodded. “Yeah, but they’re church assholes, so it matters to my parents.” He sounded bitter as he turned his computer on.

  “Um, what are you doing?” I asked as it booted up.

  “Checking my e-mail,” he said without turning around. “That okay?”

  Kelly checking his e-mail wasn’t even close to okay with me, but I couldn’t just push him out of the way.

  His mailbox was full of hate mail. The subjects had “fag,” “queer,” or “burn in hell” in them. I was shocked, but he just went on deleting them one at a time. “How do they know your e-mail?” I asked, not believing how many there were.

  “Someone posted my e-mail on one of the links. It’s been like this for a while now. I like to clear it out every couple of hours before my mailbox goes insane.”

  My mouth dropped open. “That is just a few hours?”

  He looked back and nodded. “I checked it before I went outside to get those things down.”

  “Who does this crap?” I asked myself, not even aware I had asked it out loud.

  “I used to,” he said, turning his computer off. “If this was anyone else I probably would have been one of these guys. Hanging dildos on a front porch? That’s pretty funny if it isn’t happening to you.”

  I looked him in the eyes. “Do you really think it’s funny?”

  He looked down. “I would have a couple of weeks ago.”

  We would have continued to talk about it, but his mother called us down to eat. If there is one thing you can always count on with teenage boys, it’s this: No matter how important a football game or a conversation or anything else may seem, we can always pause for food.

  BRAD

  A COUPLE of days before the new year, Mr. Parker took off.

  He had hit it off with the guy his mom set him up with, but then something happened, and
the guy went back to California. Less than an hour later, Mr. Parker followed him. I woke up to a semi-intelligible voice mail that said he had screwed up and was going to get Matt back, and could I handle the store for the next day or so, in case anyone had any returns. After that he said if he didn’t come back, I should leave the store closed.

  I had started Christmas break without a job, and now I was running a sporting goods store. Not bad for a guy who couldn’t pass history without his boyfriend coaching him.

  When I called Kyle and told him what had happened, he said he already knew. I asked him how he knew, and then he admitted having had something to do with it. He told me how Tyler had come over to his house drunk because Kyle’s mom and he were friends from school and he’d needed a shoulder to blubber all over. Kyle had found him passed out on the couch. They had a talk about love and what a person should be willing to do to get it, and the next thing he knew, Mr. Parker was racing to the airport to catch a flight.

  I should have known better than to expect something positive to happen in Foster without Kyle’s fingerprints all over it.

  “I remember a time in the distant past where you just wanted to be invisible, and now you’re making grown men race across the country? What do you call that?” I asked over the phone as I opened the store.

  “Mad skills?” he answered, which made me crack up.

  With Kyle’s help, we kept the store open up to New Year’s Eve without incident. A couple of people asked where Mr. Parker had taken off to, and we just told them he had a family emergency out of state. We ended up spending the night at Kyle’s house, sitting in his huge oversized chair as the ball dropped. As I kissed Kyle at midnight, I had one of those things where you just figure stuff out. An epitaph or whatever.

  Anyway, suddenly it hit me that, barring a huge fuck up on my part, this was the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

  Now I know you’re going to say something like, “Brad, you are barely eighteen, and Kyle is the first guy you’ve dated. How can you be so sure that you can make a statement like that?” For those people out there who have not gone through that moment yet, let me assure you. When you know, you know.