by Marie Sexton
“What the hell just happened?” I asked him.
He shook his head at me. “I can’t figure out if you’re a selfish asshole, Zach, or if you’re just blind.” And then he left too.
…Angelo
I LEAVE the store. Decide to walk to the motel. Give myself time to think.
I know I shouldn’t have gone off on Zach like that. It’s not his fault. It’s my fault. The whole fuckin’ thing is my fault. I’m the one who thought to call Matt. I’m the one who suggested Zach move here.
I was so sure last night that I’d be able to let him go. But all day, as we talked ’bout him movin’ here, it’s just been eatin’ at me more and more. I don’t want to lose him. I want more than one night with him. All that shit I said to him—only reason I was so crazy mad was ’cause it’s all true. He is my whole life. I got nothin’ else.
Pinned all my happiness on him, and now he’s gonna leave me.
I know I can move too. I can follow him. Just don’t know if I should. Is it better to be here with him, seein’ him but never havin’ him? Or is it better to be alone?
A car pulls up next to me. Lizzy. “Come on, Angelo. I’ll give you a ride.”
I don’t want a ride, but don’t want to be rude, either, and it’s pretty clear Lizzy isn’t the type to give up. I get in her car. She doesn’t say a word all the way to the motel, but just as I’m gettin’ out, she says, “He’ll come around.”
“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ ’bout.” ’Course I’m lyin’, but
I’m sure as hell not talkin’ to her ’bout it.
She acts like she didn’t hear me. “You know what’s really funny, Angelo? I had this exact same conversation with Jared once about Matt. I told him Matt would come around. He didn’t believe me either, but I was right.” She turns to me and smiles like she’s some kind of oracle grantin’ me a fuckin’ blessin’. “I’m right this time too.”
I just shake my head at her. Get out of her car. Go into our room. Take a scorchin’ hot shower. Let all that anger just wash away. What I’m left with is an achin’ hole inside me that feels worse than the anger did. I climb into bed and bury myself down deep under the covers. When Zach comes in, I don’t say a word.
Zach…
ANGELO was sleeping when I got back to our room. Or maybe he was faking. Either way it was obvious he didn’t want to talk to me.
I’d been thinking a lot about what Jared said. I didn’t think I was an asshole, which meant I was blind. I just had to figure out what it was that I was supposed to be seeing.
I had never seen Angelo as mad as he was tonight. The closest was that day with Tom, when Tom delivered his little ultimatum.
There was also that day he tried to quit his job at A to Z. I never did figure out what that was all about. I struggled to think back. What had happened the day before that? I had asked him to go to Folk Fest with me, and he said yes. But then Tom decided to go instead.
When Angelo left my house that night, we thought Tom was going with me, and Angelo was staying home.
But did that explain him almost quitting his job?
I thought about some of the things he had said when he was yelling at me. “You think you’re my whole fuckin’ life, Zach?” Of course I didn’t think that. Did he really believe that was how I felt?
Why would he think that? Obviously because I thought he was coming with me. I shouldn’t have assumed that. And yet coming here was his idea. He had said, “You think I don’t know I’m the one who suggested you leave?” He suggested it. Yet now that it was coming to fruition, he was mad. At me. Because I would be leaving.
I really was blind.
Angelo was in love with me.
It didn’t seem possible. And yet it made sense. All the time he spent with me. His hatred of Tom. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was true. I thought about the night before, when I had felt his hand on my thigh. I hadn’t thought much about it at the time. I had figured he himself hadn’t even realized it was there. Now I had to wonder.
Suddenly I was ridiculously aware of him in the room with me, in the bed right next to mine. I could hear him breathing. I could actually smell the shampoo he had used in the shower. I suddenly wanted to know what he was wearing, under the covers. I wondered what would happen if I slid into bed next to him and touched him. I suddenly wanted more than anything to kiss him. I started to get hard, just thinking about it.
“Zach?”
I jumped about a foot. I felt guilty, like he had just caught me masturbating. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Ang, I didn’t know….” I didn’t know what? It seemed like the list of things I didn’t know an hour ago was pretty damn long.
“I’ll still help you paint, Zach. And I’ll help you move.”
“Ang….”
“I can’t, Zach. I just can’t.”
I wasn’t even sure what we were talking about any more, but he sounded so sad, so defeated. I wished I was smarter or braver. I wished I could go to him. Instead I said simply, “Anything you want, Ang.”
A minute later I could tell he really was asleep.
THE next morning was awkward. He was trying to pretend like nothing had changed. Or maybe that was me. I was hyper-aware of everything he did. Every move he made. It was all I could do not to touch him. I wanted to hold him. I was scared to even look at him.
Once we were at the store, it got worse. Jared brought a six- pack of Dr Pepper and a couple of fans, and we started painting.
Even with the doors open and the fans on, it was hot. Angelo had his shirt off, and I was surprised by how distracting it was. As the hours crept past, I found my eyes drawn to him over and over again. When we first met, I had simply thought he was a punk. That had changed as we became friends. Still, I wondered why it had never occurred to me to really look at him.
He was rail-thin, but his arms were roped with taut muscles.
His skin was dark and he had very little hair on his body. He had a starburst pattern tattooed around his navel and another one between his shoulder blades. His pants hung low on his hips. If they were even an inch lower, I was sure I would have been able to see pubic hair. He was painting the top of a doorframe, his head tipped back, and he was laughing at something Jared had just said.
He was beautiful.
A drop of paint fell and landed on his chest. I watched it slide down his chest, over his ribs, and onto the flat plain of his stomach. I could see the soft, downy hairs there and that white paint against his dark skin, and I had a sudden and ridiculous urge to lick it off of him. I was sure that it would taste just like vanilla ice cream. I knew his skin would be soft against my tongue, salty and delicious. I imagined kneeling in front of him, running my tongue over his ribs, sliding my hands up his thighs to grip his ass. I imagined seeing him with his head thrown back in passion. I felt myself growing hard at the thought.
“Zach?” he said suddenly.
I ripped my eyes away from that drop of paint, looked up at his face. Jesus, could he tell I had a fucking hard-on? He was staring at me with that lopsided grin, looking incredibly amused, but I didn’t think it was over the embarrassing bulge in my pants. Jared, on the other hand, was grinning at me like he knew exactly what was going on.
“What?” I sounded defensive, although I hadn’t meant to.
“Did you even hear me?” Angelo asked.
Had I heard him? Had he been talking? All I could remember was the way the paint had rolled over his stomach, and I had to resist the urge to look down at it again.
“Zach, what’s up with you, man?” he asked jokingly.
Jared made a choking sound, and I knew he was trying not to laugh at me. I needed Angelo to put his shirt back on.
“Aren’t you cold?” I asked him.
“No.” He had spotted the paint and was trying to wipe it off.
Now he had a white smear across his stomach. At least it didn’t look like ice cream anymore. “Why
?”
“It’s cold in here.” In my defense it had finally dropped below eighty-five.
Angelo looked at me like I was crazy. “Then why you sweatin’?”
Jared really did start laughing now. Angelo turned and looked at him in confusion. I did my best to glare daggers at him. He clamped his mouth shut and started putting his brush away.
“What’s so funny?” Angelo asked him.
“Nothing.” But he was obviously struggling to get himself under control. “Listen, it is definitely hot in here. Way too hot for all three of us. I think I better go.”
“Already?” Angelo asked. “Why?”
Jared laughed again. “I gotta go tell Matt he won our bet.” He looked over at Angelo. “Ang, I was listening even if Zach wasn’t, and it’s a great idea.”
Angelo looked extremely pleased, and I was irrationally annoyed that it was Jared who had caused it. “Cool,” Angelo said to him. “We still on for dinner?”
“Sure. Just come on by when you guys are ready.” He was still smiling. He had to walk past me to get to the door, and as he passed me, he said very quietly, “Not blind anymore, are you?” I felt my whole face turn red. “See you later.”
Once Jared was gone, I looked back over at Angelo. He had gone back to painting the top of the door jamb. His skin was moving over the thin, taut muscles in his arms. His head was back. There was a drop of sweat in the little hollow at the base of his throat.
I was getting hard again.
I really needed him to put his shirt back on.
“Hey, it’s almost dinner time anyway,” I said to him. “Let’s go back to the motel and get cleaned up. I could use a shower.” A really, really cold shower.
He shrugged. “Okay.”
First we had to clean the brushes, or they’d be worthless by the time we got back from dinner. We crowded into the mop room and stood next to each other at the utility sink, rinsing out brushes and pans and rollers. There wasn’t much room, and his arm kept brushing mine. At least he had put his shirt back on. Still, I could smell him. He smelled like sweat and shampoo, and paint, and it was sexy as hell. Just standing next to him had me hard all over again.
Had he rolled in pheromones that morning or something?
He was talking again and I was finding it very difficult to pay attention.
“The thing I never got ’bout Gone with the Wind was why Scarlett was so crazy over Ashley anyway, you know? Here she’s got Rhett on the line, and all she can think ’bout is Ashley, who’s a total fuckin’ pansy.”
“I never watched it.” I was watching his hands. He was washing out his paint brush, his long, thin fingers working through the bristles, and I thought about what it would feel like to have those fingers tangled in my hair. While I licked paint off of his stomach.
Seriously, this was getting weird.
He turned and looked at me with his eyebrows up in surprise.
“You never saw Gone with the Wind?”
I had to make myself look away from his hands and look at his face. “Seemed like a stupid chick flick.” I hoped I sounded casual, because for some reason, I didn’t feel casual.
He gave me that lopsided smirk, and something in my chest flipped over. “It’s a classic. I still can’t believe you own a fuckin’ movie store, and you never watched any of the classics.”
What were we talking about again? When did I suddenly become incapable of carrying on a simple conversation with Angelo? He tucked his hair behind his ear. I could see the soft skin on the side of his throat, and I wanted to put my lips on it. “It’s about the Civil War, right? But I read once that it didn’t actually have a single battle scene in it, so I never watched it.”
“It takes place during the Civil War, but it’s not about the Civil War. It’s about love.” He shook his head. “You have no sense of romanticism.”
I didn’t know about romanticism, but I definitely had a sense of something growing inside of me. It felt like an epiphany.
Everything was starting to make sense. Everything was suddenly coming into focus.
All this time I had been blind to his feelings for me. But it seemed now that I had been even more blind to my own feelings for him. Wasn’t I the one who invited him over every night? Who practically begged him to go to Folk Fest with me? Who assumed that wherever I went, he would be there with me? Wasn’t I the one who couldn’t imagine moving to Coda without him? And while it seemed melodramatic to say that I couldn’t live without him, I knew at that moment that I didn’t want to try.
I was still staring at him. He seemed so young and wild and beautiful—like something not even of this world. How could he possibly want someone like me? “So Scarlett doesn’t love Rhett?” I asked. I didn’t actually care. I just wanted him to keep talking so I could keep looking at him.
“Not at first. Even after she marries him, she still wants Ashley. She doesn’t love Rhett until the end, really. But,” he said, glancing sidelong at me and blushing, “by then it’s too late.”
Was I too late? The thought was enough to make my heart stop beating.
“Ang?”
He turned to look up at me through his bangs. I had to touch him. I reached up and brushed his hair out of his eyes. He had the longest lashes I had ever seen on a guy. He didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just looked at me.
“Angelo, I know I should have asked. I know I’ve been an idiot. I know I should have figured it out sooner.”
“Not sure what you’re talkin’ ’bout, Zach.”
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’m blind. Or I’m stupid.
Or both, I guess. I must be. I really don’t know.”
“Still not sure what you’re talkin’ ’bout, Zach.” But there was a slight tremor in his voice as he said it.
“I can’t stand for you to leave, Ang. I can’t stand to move here without you.”
He was quiet for a minute, and then, in barely a whisper, he asked, “Why, Zach?”
“Because.” It was all so clear now. I knew exactly what to say.
“Because I’m crazy about you, Ang.” It was almost like I punched him. He sucked in his breath and closed his eyes. I could actually see him shaking. “I want you to move here with me. More than anything. And I’m sorry it took me so long to figure it out. But I know now, I want us to be together.” I hooked a finger in one of his belt loops, and he let me pull him closer. “Please tell me you’ll stay, Angelo. You’re all I want. I’ve never wanted anything in my life the way I want you.”
He opened his eyes, and there was so much hope shining in them, it took my breath away. “You think I’m just waitin’ for you to decide you want me, Zach?”
“No.”
And suddenly, he smiled. “Yes.”
And before I could say anything else, he kissed me.
His lips were soft and warm. He tasted like Dr Pepper. His arms were tight around my neck. I put my arms around him and felt his thin body trembling, felt his ribs through his threadbare shirt.
It was incredible, just feeling him against me like that, like we were meant to be that way. Like it was fate.
I was dying to touch him more. To get rid of our clothes and touch his skin and kiss him everywhere. I pulled his shirt up, ran one hand up his bare spine, and felt him shiver. I wanted him so much at that moment, I wasn’t even sure I could wait to get to the motel.
Suddenly he stepped back and broke our kiss. His eyes were bright, and his lips were moist, and he smiled and said, “Been wantin’ to do that a long time.”
“I’m glad you finally did.” I tried to pull him closer again, but he stepped back, away from me.
He shook his head, still smiling, still shaking a little. “They’re waitin’ for us.”
I groaned. “You’re killing me. You have no idea what you’ve been doing to me all day.”
His smile got brighter. “I guess not.” He turned and headed for the door. “Come on.”
We went back to the motel and showered. Not
together, to my dismay. I didn’t want to go out to dinner. All I wanted to do was feel him and taste him and make love to him. He didn’t seem to notice.
He acted like nothing had changed, and I almost started to wonder if I had dreamed the whole thing.
We drove over to Matt and Jared’s. Matt was in the shower.
Jared let us in.
“You want anything to drink?” he asked as I sat on the couch.
“Wine would be great.”
He laughed. “I should have been more specific. You want a beer or a Dr Pepper? Because that’s all we have.”
I shook my head, but Angelo said, “I’ll take a beer.” He followed Jared into the kitchen. It was one of those open-floor-plan homes, so it was just a matter of going around the counter to get to the fridge. But when they got there, Angelo put his arm around Jared’s shoulder, and they put their heads together for a minute.
Then Jared laughed and handed him a beer, and they headed down the hall together. Matt came out of the shower just then, wearing nothing but a towel and looking amazing. He watched them walk past him into the bedroom. He turned to me and raised his eyebrow.
I shrugged at him. But only a few seconds later, they came back out, and Angelo slammed his beer while Matt got dressed, and then we went out for dinner.
They took us to a pizza joint. We were just sitting down when a man walked past us, muttering just loud enough that we all heard the word “fags.”
“Don’t worry about him,” Jared said. “Most of the town is fine. Gerri’s just an asshole.”
“Hey, Ram, doesn’t this cafeteria have a no-fags-allowed policy?” Angelo suddenly asked.
To my surprise, Matt replied, “They seem to have an open- door policy on assholes, though, don’t they?”
They grinned at each other like Cheshire cats. Jared looked baffled. I was relieved to see that for once there was somebody further behind than me.
“Did you tell him yet?” Jared asked Angelo, when our pizza came.
