Lucky

by Evan T. Apollo

Five

  I was feeling anxious all day Thursday and I was glad that Kate came over after school to keep me occupied.

  “I still don’t know what I’m wearing tonight,” I said. “I mean, I have it narrowed down to a few things, but I can’t make up my mind.”

  We were sitting at the kitchen table and Kate was eating salt and vinegar potato chips. I didn’t even have to read the label on the bag because the stench kept wafting in my direction.

  “Where are you and Ryan going for dinner?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. We didn’t talk about it. I was thinking of either the diner or maybe Barry’s. I’m aiming for something inexpensive, but at least a step above fast food. I don’t know what his money situation is.” I got up to get a bottle of water from the fridge. “I don’t want to offer to pay because that might be kind of awkward for a first date.”

  Kate narrowed her eyes. “You think about things way too much,” she said.

  “Have you met me?” I asked, sarcastically.

  “Okay, okay. So you’re going someplace casual. You can’t go wrong with jeans and a sweater, right?”

  “But should I wear, like, nice jeans or just everyday jeans? I have this nice pair of Diesel jeans with –”

  “Travis!” Kate shouted over me.

  “What?”

  “Do you hear yourself? Jeans are just jeans. Do you know how I decide which jeans to wear? It’s whatever pair is in the hamper that I’ve worn the least that month. Stop worrying about every little detail. Trust me. He’s not going to care if it’s Armani or K-Mart. If he’s like any other guy, the only thing he wants to know about your pants is how to get you out of them.”

  I sighed. “I’m not going to sleep with him.”

  “Of course not,” Kate said. “It’s not like it’s a second date.”

  “Funny,” I said, flatly. “Okay, so, a sweater and jeans. But what kind of tee shirt should I wear under the sweater?”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “You’re hopeless.”

  “Sorry. I don’t know how to not obsess over things,” I said.

  “Would you like me to go upstairs and pick something out for you?” she asked.

  “No way. You’ll have me looking like the grim reaper.”

  “Then why the hell are you even asking me for advice?” she said, dramatically throwing her hands up into the air.

  “I wasn’t really going to take your advice, sweetie. I was just being polite.”

  “I knew you were going to say something like that,” she said.

  “You don’t seriously wash your jeans once a month, right?” I asked.

  “Well, not every single month.”

  “Remind me after my date to schedule your intervention.” I said.

  I was about to get into the shower when the phone rang. It was dad and I didn’t pick up. I was too preoccupied with my impending date and besides, the last thing I wanted was for him to put me in a foul mood. I continued with my shower and brushed my teeth.

  When I returned to my room it was time to decide once and for all exactly what I was going to wear. I decided to go against everything I stood for and put on the first pair of jeans and tee shirt I saw. The outcome was dark blue jeans and a black tee shirt. I pulled a lightweight gray and purple argyle sweater over it. Not bad, I thought, and walked out before I could change my mind.

  The doorbell rang promptly at 6:30 which was the agreed upon time. I was in the kitchen tying my shoes. Ryan’s punctual arrival caught me by surprise as I was used to all of my friends having no concept of being on time for anything.

  “Hey,” Ryan said with a smile when I opened the door.

  “Hey, yourself,” I smiled back.

  “Um, this is the first time I’ve done something like this,” he said, lowering his voice as if someone might be spying on our secret gay date. “I know you get girls flowers and candy but I never went out with a guy before. I wasn’t sure if I should bring you anything. But I figured candy and flowers would be stupid. Ugh, I’m babbling,” he said, seeming super nervous. It was so cute. “I brought you this,” he said, reaching into his pocket.

  “You didn’t have to bring my anything,” I said.

  He handed me a small metal object that looked like a pen.

  “It’s nothing, really,” he said, almost looking embarrassed.

  I held it up and looked at it. “I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but what is it?” I turned it around in my hand.

  Ryan chuckled. “It’s a tire pressure gauge. It tells you how much air pressure is in your tires so you know if they are low or over inflated. I hope you don’t already have one.”

  “Uh, no. You’re the first person to give me one,” I said, turning it in my hand.

  “No, it’s stupid,” Ryan said, looking at the ground. I guess my reaction wasn’t what he expected. What do you say to a gift like that? It was strange, but at least it was thoughtful.

  “I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s sweet.” He looked like he didn’t believe me. “Really,” I said. He cracked a smile.

  “Good,” he said. “So where are we going to eat?” he asked. I was looking at him and opened my mouth to answer when something striking caught my attention. “Still with me?” he asked, tilting his head like a curious dog.

  “Sorry. It’s just, I noticed your eyes.” I couldn’t stop looking at them.

  “I’m sorry. I thought you realized before that I had eyes.”

  “You know what I mean, dumb ass.” We both laughed.

  “It’s called heterochromia iridium,” he said.

  “Heterochromia? Can you have that if you’re not straight?” I joked.

  “You really didn’t notice before?” he asked, narrowing his eyes quizzically.

  “I thought they were both green. Sorry, I’m going to keep staring at them now.”

  “Hey, it’s okay,” Ryan said. “You can look into my eyes all you want,” he said with a shy smile.

  Man, does this guy know all the right things to say or what? I’m sure I was blushing at this point.

  “Do you want to go to Barry’s?” I asked, getting back to his question.

  “Sounds good to me. I’m starved.”

  We sat in a corner booth at the restaurant. I ordered a cheesesteak with mushrooms and no peppers with a side of fries. Ryan got a double bacon cheeseburger and onion rings. We made small talk about school and what little I knew about cars. I still stared at his eyes. The left one was a deep green and the right one was blue which faded into brown near the cornea. I think I had seen that once before, but it was on a dog.

  During the drive home Ryan asked if we were still going to watch Arpeggio.

  “Of course,” I said. “You know, I’m kind of surprised that you’re into it.”

  “Me too, sort of,” he said. “But I watched it one night and really liked it. Now it’s like a weird secret guilty pleasure.”

  “Your secret’s safe with me,” I assured him.

  “Your dad’s still not back yet?” Ryan asked as we walked in through the back door.

  “Nah, he’s going to be gone for a while longer,” I answered while switching the kitchen lights on.

  “Sounds nice.”

  “Yeah, it’s not so bad, really. My friends are jealous, actually. But I guess I do feel a little lonelier without my cat.”

  Ryan stood in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room.

  “What happened to it?” he asked.

  I retold the story of how I came home to find her dead and how Patrick and I buried her in the backyard.

  “That sucks,” Ryan said. He was right. “Have you thought about getting another cat?” he asked.

  Kate and Patrick had both asked me this question and I basically told Ryan what I told them.

  “I don’t know if or when I’ll want another pet,” I said. “Maybe one day when I forget how much it sucks to lose them.”

  “Understood,” he said.

  We sat
in the living room. Arpeggio High wouldn’t be on for a few more minutes.

  “Have you ever told anyone else about liking guys?” I asked.

  “You’re the only one,” he said. “I mean, to be totally honest I’ve talked to guys online and on my phone but you’re literally the only person I’ve ever told in person.”

  “Have you ever met any of those guys you talked to?” I asked, pulling a leg up onto the couch.

  “Nah. Always been too chicken.”

  “So, what made you come clean to me?” I asked.

  “You pretty much forced me to admit it,” Ryan said, laughing.

  “True. But you were comfortable enough to tell me. I was, like, a complete stranger.”

  “Well, this might sound kind of dumb, but after seeing you reading the Arpeggio High article and noticing you were listening to Rihanna on your iPod, I kind of figured you’re probably gay, even before we started talking about all that stuff.”

  I couldn’t believe it. Had he actually made an assumption about my sexual orientation based on the music I was listening to? Brilliant.

  “Look,” he continued, “I don’t know much about gay stuff. I don’t even know yet if I’m gay or if I’m bi. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m probably going to seem pretty ignorant about all of it.” He was watching a commercial with people kicking trees as he spoke to me.

  “Hey, it’s okay,” I said. “I feel like I don’t fit in with the typical gay stereotype. I’m not like those guys that sashay when they walk and refer to each other as girls. My brain just doesn’t think that way. It’s like, my whole life I’ve just been me. Just a regular person. I never really had a hard time fitting in with friends or at school. The only place where I feel like I don’t fit in is the out and proud gay community.”

  “I think I know what you mean,” Ryan said. “So many guys are like, ‘look at me! I’m America’s next top drag queen!’ I mean, if that’s who they really are then that’s totally fine. I just think some of them—”

  “Gay it up?” I asked and answered.

  “That’s a good way to put it,” he said with a smile.

  The show came on and we made small talk only during the commercials about who were enemies that week, who this person was going to date next, and that neither one of us had ever spontaneously broken into song while at school.

  “I need to be going,” he said, shortly after the show ended.

  “I had a really good time,” I said, walking with him to the front door.

  “Yeah, it was fun,” he said, opening the door.

  I had been worrying about it in the back of my mind since I asked him out and now we were down to that exact moment: kiss or no kiss? Everything was going great up until now and I was totally down for a good night kiss but I wasn’t sure if Ryan was. Only one way to find out, I thought. I started to lean in and he promptly turned around and walked through the door.

  “See you later,” he said, without looking at me.

  Slap. In. The. Face.

  I walked into the kitchen, dumbfounded. Did I do or say something wrong? Everything had been perfect up until that moment. Was Ryan afraid to kiss me? Was I moving too fast? He had the best boyfriend potential of anyone I’d ever met. I’d be devastated if I scared him off.

  I was washing the dishes that had accumulated over the past couple days and feeling dejected when the phone rang.

  “How was the date?” Kate asked. “If you’re busy having gay sex I can call back.”

  I sighed. “I don’t think sex is going to happen any time soon,” I said, turning the faucet off.

  “So, what happened?” she asked.

  “I’m not sure.” I pulled one of the kitchen chairs from beneath the table and sat. “Everything was great. Dinner was good. Then we came back to my house and talked for a bit and it felt like we were really connecting. Then we watched TV for a while and as soon as the show was over, he practically ran out the door.”

  “You mean as soon as it was over he just abruptly got up and left?” she asked.

  “Well, not really abruptly. He said he should be going and I walked him to the door. Then I got the stupid idea of giving him a kiss and as I started to move toward him, he turned around and walked out.”

  “Ouch,” Kate said.

  “Yeah. So I’m not sure what to think.” I was mindlessly playing with the deck of cards that was still sitting on the table from the blackjack game the other night that led to this date.

  “Didn’t you say he was new to the whole gay thing? Maybe he’s a little skittish.”

  “Yeah. I don’t know. This sucks. I felt like we were really clicking.”

  “Well, how did it happen? I mean, did he definitely know you were about to kiss him and then he turned around? Maybe he didn’t know that that was what you were doing.” Her voice became muffled and I heard her yell, “Brandon, I told you to go to bed. Don’t make me call mom. Sorry about that,” she said, her voice returning to normal.

  “It’s okay,” I said, being used to such outbursts. “Maybe you’re right, though. Maybe he just didn’t know.”

  “Well, I’m sure the next time you talk to him you’ll be able to gauge whether he had a good time or not. And if he did have a good time, then he probably didn’t do it on purpose.”

  Gauge. Funny word choice, I thought, as I glanced over at the tire pressure gauge sitting on the counter.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I agreed. “I wonder how long I should wait to text or call him,” I said.

  “Stop worrying about it. Relax. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  Kate seemed to be a lot surer than I was.