If I Told You So

by Timothy Woodward

  “Yeah, okay.” I smile just a little. I turn around to leave.

  “Sean?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you have any idea where the spoons are?”

  “Try looking next to the pineapple topping.”

  The rest of my shift goes by quickly, and I am looking forward to our date. Jay is actually scheduled to work a couple of hours longer than me, so we make plans to meet up after he gets out. When my shift is over, I’m in the break room changing my shirt before I head home when I hear a high-pitched cell phone beep. Jay’s sweatshirt is on a hook on the wall, and I reach in the front pocket and find his cigarettes and his cell phone. The front screen on the phone says he has a new text message.

  I think about bringing the phone out to Jay, but curiosity gets the better of me. I flip open the phone.

  You have a new text message

  I press the read button and the screen changes.

  R we still on 4 2nite?

  Apparently, Jay had plans for tonight. But Jay made plans with me. I tell myself that his plans aren’t that important since Jay is going out with me. I wonder who the text message is from. I select “keep as new” so Jay will see that he has an unread message, and I head out the door.

  “See you tonight,” I call to Jay on my way out.

  He gives me a smile and a wave and turns back to the customer at the window.

  Chapter 34

  Jay holds the door for me at the Rattlesnake Grill. It’s not busy, and in a few minutes we have a booth to ourselves near the bar. The Rattlesnake Grill is one of those western-themed restaurants where the servers all wear oversized belt buckles and occasionally start line dancing while your food is getting cold in the kitchen.

  Jay grabs a handful of peanuts from the aluminum bucket on the table and starts cracking them open, tossing the shells on the floor. Apparently, this is accepted behavior here because peanut shells cover the floor like beige snow. I look around at the piles and wonder who is in charge of sweeping. It’s worse than when my father last dragged me to a baseball game.

  Jay hands me a menu from the rustic wooden holder at the end of the table. “Hey, sorry about today,” he says.

  “It’s okay.”

  He reaches across the table and takes my hand. I look up from my menu and into his eyes. He’s smiling.

  From out of nowhere, a perky waitress appears at our table. I instinctively pull my hand away. I study my menu.

  The waitress is oblivious. “Can I start you off with something to drink?”

  “Diet Coke, ”Jay says, “with a lime.”

  I’m still hiding behind my menu. My face is hot, partly from embarrassment at what I think the waitress might have seen, and partly out of shame for pulling my hand away. Aren’t I the one who wanted to go out with Jay somewhere other than his boat?

  “And for you?” The waitress isn’t much older than Jay, but she treats us like we’re a middle-aged couple enjoying a night away from the kids.

  “Sean?” Jay reaches over and pulls my menu down.

  “Iced tea,” I mumble. The waitress leaves, and I put my menu down.

  “You okay?” Jay’s eyebrows scrunch together, and he smiles with mock concern. Again he reaches for my hand, but this time his phone interrupts with its high-pitched text message beep.

  Jay reaches into his pocket. He opens the phone and studies the message for a few seconds, then flips it closed with a plastic snap. He places the phone on the table and focuses his attention on me again.

  “Who was it?” I ask.

  “Nobody. A friend. Wants to know if I can go out tonight.”

  “Later?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t know, I might go.”

  “Where?”

  “This club in Manchester.”

  I nod like I’ve been there, even though I have never been to a club in my life since I’m only sixteen. I wonder if it’s a gay club.

  “Is that okay?” Jay says.

  “Are you asking my permission?”

  “No. But you seem upset.”

  “No.”

  “You just seem . . . ” He’s searching for a word, and he purses his lips together. If we were on his boat I would kiss him. The thought makes me smile.

  His phone beeps again. He flips it open, and this time he types a return message. While he is typing, the waitress brings our drinks. She pulls two straws from her apron and slides them across the table, then waits patiently for Jay to finish his message.

  “Ready to order?”

  We place our orders—Jay gets a steak, and I get a Sidewinder Burger, which is just a normal hamburger with bacon and sautéed mushrooms on it.

  After the waitress goes, Jay says, “Sorry about that.”

  “No biggie.”

  “What’s with all the one-word answers?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You just seem kind of quiet tonight.”

  “I guess I just don’t have much to say.”

  Jay is about to say something else, but his phone goes off again. He picks it up and starts to type a reply.

  “I’m sorry I’m not as much fun as a club,” I say. Wow, that sounded bitchy. But I guess I got Jay’s attention, because he stops in mid-text.

  “Sean, I have other friends.”

  “I know.”

  “I’m sorry. I wish I could take you to the club, but you’re not eighteen. ”

  “My mom wouldn’t let me go anyway. I’m already in trouble for staying out so late with you.”

  Jay finishes off his text and flips his phone shut. “Your mom must hate me.”

  “No. Well, maybe a little.” I think back to the night she met Jay at the Pink Cone. “She’s just being a mom.”

  Jay nods. “My parents aren’t around that much. I pretty much get to do what I want.”

  “How come?”

  “My dad’s a lawyer and he works a lot, and my mother’s a nurse and she does a lot of overnight shifts, so. . . ” He shrugs. “It’s not like I want to hang out with them anyway.”

  “Right. I get that,” I say, even though I don’t. My mom and I have always been close. Maybe not so much lately, but it’s not like I’m ready to move out or anything.

  “I basically have my own apartment in the basement. It’s cool. I even have a separate entrance. Comes in handy.”

  The waitress appears with our food. “Can I get you guys anything else?” she asks.

  Jay reaches across the table and steals one of my fries. “Ketchup,” he says.

  The waitress points to the wooden rack that holds the menus. The condiments, including ketchup, are stuck in holes on either side.

  “Oh, right. Thanks,” Jay says, chewing on my fry. The waitress leaves. Jay grabs the plastic ketchup bottle and squeezes out a red pool onto the edge of his plate. He grabs another one of my fries.

  “Help yourself,” I say.

  “Thanks. Do you mind?”

  “No, that’s okay. You could have ordered fries, you know.”

  “I like mashed potatoes. Besides, I knew I could steal yours.”

  “Whatever. ”

  We don’t talk for several minutes while we eat our food. I think about whoever keeps texting Jay and whether he’ll meet them at the club later on. The burger is pretty good, I guess, although I’m concentrating too hard on Jay’s cell phone to notice much. Sure enough, his phone beeps again.

  “You sure are popular tonight,” I say.

  Jay gives me a closed-lip smile, since his mouth is full, and picks up his phone. I grab a bottle out of the holder, Rattlesnake Grill Steak Sauce, and study the label. The “S” in Steak is a cartoon rattlesnake wearing a cowboy hat. Jay puts his phone down again.

  “Sorry about that,” he says.

  “It’s okay. I thought we were on a date.”

  “We are.”

  “It feels more like you and your phone are on a date.” There’s that bitchy tone again. I don’t
want to fight. Part of my purpose tonight is to prove Becky wrong, and fighting won’t help my case.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How’s your burger?” Jay says.

  “Good. How are my fries?” I force a smile. I can make myself have fun.

  Jay laughs and takes another fry off my plate. He dips it in ketchup. “There’s a smile,” he says. “You’re cute when you smile. ”

  I roll my eyes, but I keep smiling, and this time it’s genuine. Maybe this date isn’t going too badly after all.

  Chapter 35

  Jay gives me a ride home after dinner. We pull into my driveway about eight thirty, and Jay puts the car in neutral.

  “So,” I say, breaking the silence.

  “So,” Jay says.

  I keep looking straight ahead. There are no lights on, so my mother must be out, probably with Steve. Jay puts his hand on my thigh. I look down and then put my hand over his. He has a yellow rubber bracelet with words imprinted on it. I run my finger over it, feeling the depressions the letters make in the rubber. Finally, I look over at Jay.

  He is smiling at me, and then he is leaning over, and then he is kissing me. His lips spark against mine, and a surge of adrenaline fires through my body. This is the moment I’ve been thinking about all night. After what Becky said, I was worried that I wouldn’t feel anything anymore. My eyes are closed, but colors flash through my brain. I see a kaleidoscope of reds, blues, and yellows; this is better than any club dance floor. Jay’s hand slides up my thigh. If he doesn’t love me, how can he make me feel like this?

  I push forward, into his kiss. I move so I can reach across with my right hand and feel his body. My hand moves over his thin cotton T-shirt; his biceps shift beneath my fingers. My hand moves up his arm and past his shoulder. He’s wearing a necklace, a thin silver chain, and I run a finger under it, feeling its surprising weight and warmth. Finally, I cup his cheek in my palm. I can feel a day’s worth of stubble under my fingertips, each prickle sending more sparks shooting through me. I let my hand just barely graze across his skin, so lightly it tickles, and I almost can’t stand it. I breathe him in, through my nose, through my mouth. His smell is sweetly spicy, like chai tea, and faintly smoky. I fill my lungs, and for a moment I believe he is my oxygen, necessary for life.

  But then Jay pulls back. His hand comes up and takes mine from his face. He smiles at me.

  “You better get going,” he says.

  “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

  “Tomorrow?” It’s half a question, half a command.

  I bite my lower lip. I can still taste him. “Are you sure?”

  Jay smiles, and as an answer, he reaches down and puts the car in reverse. I exhale through my nose, making a soft rushing noise, and then breathe in deeply, trying to savor the moment. I pull the door handle and climb out of the car. Jay blows me a kiss, and maneuvers the car back down the driveway. I stand in the dark and watch him go until his lights have disappeared from view.

  The house is empty, as I suspected, so I head up to my room. It’s still early, and I’m not tired. I sit down at the computer to see who is online. Lisa.

  NHBeachBoi: hi

  LuvBug922: SEAN! {{{HUGS}}}

  NHBeachBoi: how r u

  LuvBug922: good. I can’t believe this is my last week! It went by so fast

  NHBeachBoi: i no

  LuvBug922: whats up with u?

  NHBeachBoi: nothing much. Just seeing who’s online

  LuvBug922: cool cool. how’s ur guy?

  I’m a little surprised that Lisa would ask, but also relieved. Lisa and I might not have been meant for each other romantically, but we were always good friends and could talk about anything. I guess after a summer with Becky, it’s easy to forget who you used to talk to about stuff.

  NHBeachBoi: I’m not sure. good I guess

  LuvBug922: u guess?

  NHBeachBoi: well, I thought so. He told me he loved me.

  LuvBug922: that’s great!

  NHBeachBoi: but my friend Becky said he was using me

  LuvBug922: oh

  LuvBug922: well, is there any reason to believe her? Maybe she’s just jealous

  NHBeachBoi: I thought so too. We had a date tonight

  LuvBug922: and?

  NHBeachBoi: okay. Hold on.

  NHBeachBoi: so he picks me up and we went to Rattlesnake and he was all cute and stuff and we ate dinner and it was good. but all through dinner he kept getting texts, and I was like, that’s so rude, and he was like, i have other friends. and yesterday he told me i was to clingy cuz i tried to kiss him at work. and then he got a text at work and I looked at it—i no i suck—and it said he had plans with somebody, and anyway Becky says she overheard him making plans with some guy one night when he was supposed to hang out with me,and since he won’t answer his phone that means he really isn’t into me, and he just wants sex.

  NHBeachBoi: sorry that was like a novel

  There’s a long pause while she reads what I wrote. I look around my room. I really do need to clean it. I decide to start by making my bed. I pull off all the blankets and sheets. My computer beeps.

  LuvBug922: wow

  LuvBug922: the text thing is really rude. if I was with a guy who did that, I’d be pissed

  NHBeachBoi: yeah

  LuvBug922: I mean, if it’s a date, he’s supposed to be focused on you.

  NHBeachBoi: yeah

  LuvBug922: well, what do u like about him?

  NHBeachBoi: what do u mean?

  LuvBug922: u said he was hot, but what do u guys talk about? What do u have in common?

  My fingers hover over the keyboard, but I don’t type anything. I don’t know what to type. The truth is Jay was the first gay guy I had ever met, and meeting him felt like winning the lottery, like a once-in-a-lifetime thing. I went out with Jay because I thought I had to; I might not get another chance.

  NHBeachBoi: we’re both gay and we both work at the pink cone

  LuvBug922: But what about the stuff u like? Movies, and drama club, and drawing?

  NHBeachBoi: idk

  LuvBug922: maybe u should find out

  NHBeachBoi: yeah

  NHBeachBoi: u have any plans for next week?

  LuvBug922: no

  NHBeachBoi: wanna hang out, just friends?

  LuvBug922: absolutely. Maybe I can introduce you to Brad

  NHBeachBoi: that would be cool.

  LuvBug922: yeah, he’s helping to start a PFLAG chapter in Bell Cove. Maybe you can get your mother to go.

  NHBeachBoi: PFLAG?

  LuvBug922: Parents, Families, and Friends of Lesbians and Gays. It’s like a GSA but for the real world. Not school, you know?

  NHBeachBoi: GSA?

  LuvBug922: Gay-Straight Alliance. It’s a club where gay and straight kids talk about tolerance and how to make the school a safer place.

  LuvBug922: Maybe we can start one at BCHS!

  NHBeachBoi: idk. U think there r other gay kids at BCHS?

  LuvBug922: It’s for straight kids too!

  NHBeachBoi: idk. I’ll think about it. The PFLAG thing sounds cool though. My mom might actually do that. She used to be pretty cool.

  LuvBug922: yeah. Well, I gotta go. I can’t wait to see you next week. I miss you! {{{HUGS}}} TTYL!

  NHBeachBoi: ttyl

  I close the IM window and just sit for a few minutes in front of the computer screen. Talking with Lisa reminds me why we were so close to begin with. She always seems to know what to say. Maybe Jay isn’t the only gay guy out there. If Lisa can find a gay guy at a Christian summer camp, then they can’t be that hard to find.

  I turn away from my computer. My bed is stripped bare, and my old sheets are on the floor in a ball. My closet is overflowing with dirty clothes. My desk is littered with soda cups from the Pink Cone, and the carpet might have been blue, back when I used to be able to see it, before it was covered with newspapers and shopping ba
gs and clothes hangers, and who knows what else. Might as well get started. I grab an empty plastic shopping bag off the floor, and I start filling it with trash. By midnight, my room is spotless.

  Chapter 36

  As it happens, I have three days off in a row after that, and I have no desire to be anywhere near the Pink Cone. Between fighting with Becky, wondering about Jay, and a boss having a mental breakdown, it feels good to get away for a bit.

  When I return to work three days later, I already have a plan. I stopped up on Mann’s Hill and sat on my rock to work it all out in my head. Now I’m ready to go. Jay is already there when I walk in. Harleigh is manning the window. Becky isn’t there, and that’s part of my plan. I don’t want Jay to know that Becky and I are fighting.

  “Hey Jay,” I call into the freezer where Jay is retrieving a container of vanilla.

  “Hey, babe. It’s payday!”

  “Awesome. How was the club?”

  “It was all right. Saw a couple people I know.”

  “Cool. What kind of music do they play?”

  “Mostly house and reggae. ”Jay comes out of the freezer with a plastic container in his arms. He sets it on the warming table.

  “Is that what you like?” I ask.

  “Yeah.”

  “What else do you listen to?”

  “I don’t know. Some rap, some hip-hop. That kind of stuff.”

  “Any pop?”

  “If it’s on the radio,” he says. He heads back into the freezer for another flavor, and I go out front to join Harleigh.

  It’s a slow day, and we spend most of the afternoon cleaning. We clean the store every night, but not thoroughly. It’s more like wipe down all the surfaces and mop the floor. It’s amazing where ice cream manages to get when you aren’t looking, and even more amazing how sticky it is.

  Harleigh has one of the big mixers pulled out and is scrubbing it down from behind while I wash the windows. I stand on a chair to reach the top.