Language Lessons

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Language Lessons Page 2

by Jay Bell


  Bradley might be one of the few still living off the grid, since even Joey couldn’t find a profile for him, but he had Scott’s entry pulled up within minutes. Joey sent him a friend request—after making sure to use one of his hotter profile pictures—and waited. The response came almost instantly.

  In just a handful of minutes, Scott Hammond’s life was an open book to him. Joey clicked through his profile with a critical eye. Scott was certainly cute, with dark brown hair and friendly eyes with a glint of mischief in them. Scrolling through his status updates wasn’t terribly interesting, but they were mercifully devoid of the usual gaming messages and quiz results. Scott wasn’t forthcoming with the details of his personal life, but one entry caught Joey’s eye:

  Thinking I’ll take a year off before heading to college. Earn a little cash and kick back with my slacker friends.

  Assuming Scott had gone through with this plan, he should still be living in the area. Joey was surprised by the sense of excitement this information instilled. He had a hard time understanding why, but he wanted to meet Scott, see him in the flesh. In a way, hearing Bradley’s story was like seeing half of a TV screen when a really erotic film was playing. Joey could imagine Bradley’s side of things, but Scott was still just a low-rez profile photo in his mind.

  Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Joey clicked a few times and opened a window to send Scott a message.

  Hey! Don’t I know you from high school?

  Well, it had worked with Bradley. Of course Scott might actually know who he was, since there was only a two-year age difference between them. They could have passed each other in the halls countless times during Joey’s freshman and sophomore years. He liked this idea, so he used it.

  I know I passed you countless times in the hall because I remember checking you out. Your profile pic is really cute, by the way. Maybe we should hook up sometime and—

  Joey alt-tabbed over to the page that showed Scott’s hobbies and interests. Disc golf? That was played with Frisbees if he remembered right. Eh, why not?

  —play some disc golf together. With school out, I’d be up for it tomorrow even.

  He signed the message and sent it, thinking about how great it was to be gay. Anyone else would dismiss his invitation as creepy, but gay people often felt an immediate camaraderie. They didn’t know each other, but already they had something in common. Being gay could make the rest of the world feel a little distant at times, but it made instant family of others like him.

  By evening the plans were confirmed, and they traded a few more messages back and forth. While fun, such online communication never really gave a true impression of a person. Some of the wittiest emails come from the shiest people. Or the opposite. Joey had once met someone who could barely type who was as talkative as can be. Unfortunately.

  So Joey allowed himself to feel a little nervous the next day, because he could be meeting just about anyone. A park was a hard place to pull off a tie, so he grudgingly went without, but he chose a rust-colored dress shirt with goldenrod stitching that always made him feel sexy, and left the top button undone. A little of his favorite cologne and he felt capable of getting anything he wanted. Already a few ideas and positions were coming to mind.

  That there was a park for Frisbee golf surprised him, but he found the strange chain baskets far from inspiring. At least the game’s goal was clear enough: Lob a plastic disc and try to get it inside the basket. The learning curve on this sport couldn’t be much, which would leave Joey free to focus on his true goal. He loitered in the park’s gravel parking lot until a Jeep pulled up next to his car.

  Scott hopped out wearing a red tank top and a pair of gray cargo shorts. Pushing his shades up on his head, he gave a broad smile. Joey recognized that look. This would be easy, maybe even instant. Unfortunately, Scott held up a couple of Frisbees before tossing one to Joey.

  “Thought you might not have your own,” he said.

  “Thanks. I totally forgot.” He extended his hand. “Joseph. Joseph Cooper.”

  “So I gathered.” Scott laughed, but he took advantage of the invitation for bodily contact, squeezing Joey’s hand softly and holding on a moment longer than any businessman would dare. “You already know who I am, somehow.”

  “Honestly, I just stumbled on your profile.” Funny how any sentence that started with “honestly” usually wasn’t. “I was scoping out your photo when it hit me that I’d seen you before.”

  “Wild. I think I would have remembered seeing you.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Joey leaned against his car, a subtle hint that they could get straight to business if Scott wanted. Usually he liked a little more chase than this, but something about the summer weather and Bradley’s story had him ready to go.

  “Let’s hit those pole holes,” Scott said.

  “Sorry?”

  “Surely you have experience with pole holes!”

  Scott’s eyes reflected amusement, but Joey didn’t know what to make of this. He stammered for a response, but for once his clever words failed him.

  “That’s what disc golf goals are sometimes called.” Scott laughed. “Relax, it’s just a brand name.”

  Joey did his best to recover. “I knew that.”

  “You haven’t played before, have you?”

  Joey’s expression was guilty. “I’m in your capable hands.”

  Scott winked. “You got that right.”

  As it turned out, disc golf was a lot more complicated than Joey thought possible. The different throwing techniques, for instance, and the various tricks that were just for show. Scott knew his stuff and was going all out to impress him, rolling the Frisbee across his arms like a strange version of the Harlem Globetrotters. Soon they were laughing and finding excuses to brush against each other. Scott even pulled the cheesy “let me show you how it’s done” move, coming up behind Joey to guide his hand. Joey made sure to press back against Scott as he did this, and was certain he felt something growing between them.

  “So who did you hang out with in school?” Scott asked during a break.

  Joey traced the old initials carved into the park bench with his finger and used them as inspiration for the names he made up. “Becky Hill, Larry Ward, Sherry Hobbs.” He paused, suddenly tempted to play with fire. As usual, he gave into this temptation. “Bradley Tucker.”

  “Bradley?” Scott said. “Really?”

  “Well, during his junior year we were pretty close. We lost touch after that. You know him too?”

  “Yeah. Just for a little while. But, uh, yeah.” Scott swallowed, his face vulnerable for a moment. “How well did you know him, exactly?”

  “Oh, not like that,” Joey laughed. “God, I wish! Wait. Are you telling me that you guys used to—”

  Scott turned his head away, but Joey could just see the dopey grin that broke out on his face.

  “No way! Man, you are so lucky. There wasn’t a girl in school who didn’t want a piece of Bradley Tucker. You have to tell me some details!”

  “I don’t know, man.”

  “Oh, come on!” Joey shoved him playfully. “I bet he was hung like a horse.”

  “He’s big, yeah.” Scott’s grin stretched even further. “But more than that, I just liked who he was. He was the first guy I ever messed around with. I was sure I was going to get pummeled the first time I made a move, but for some reason I wasn’t scared. It’s like he and I just fit together.”

  “Hmm. Sounds like more than just a one-time thing. Were you guys in a relationship?”

  “Kind of.” Scott took the sunglasses out of his hair and fumbled with them. “I guess we were just friends in his eyes, but I had such a crush on him. Like the embarrassing kind where you scribble his name in your notebook and dream about getting married.”

  Scott snorted as if this were funny, but he was no longer smiling. “There was this one time, just once, that we were in his room and grinding against each other. Usually we’d do that a while to really
get ourselves worked up before we’d even take our clothes off. Well, this time we were kissing, really kissing, and he pulled me down on top of him. I relaxed my weight, and it’s like we became one person. He’d breathe in and I’d breathe out. Our bodies were like the ocean and the sky, melded perfectly together. I thought then that maybe he felt the same way I did, that it wasn’t just sex for him either. Or maybe he suspected how I felt and only did that for my benefit. I don’t know.”

  “Sounds nice,” Joey said, and for once he meant it.

  “Oh man, listen to me!” Scott said ruefully. “You’re asking for hot details, and I’m over here getting all sappy. Tell me about your first time.”

  “Time!” Joey made a show of checking his watch. He knew exactly what time it was. He would set the mood again with some lurid details from his past, and soon he and Scott would head somewhere more private. Maybe they wouldn’t even make it out of the parking lot. Wouldn’t be the first time. Regardless of where, they would have sex and no doubt it would feel great. But at the same time, on the other side of the city, Bradley was probably sitting on his parent’s couch and watching TV, looking hot without even trying as he vegged away. And maybe, on the commercial breaks, he would look away from the television and think of the one that got away.

  “What about time?” Scott prompted him.

  “I thought I’d have more of it. When we made plans, I mean. I promised my mom I’d help her with a few things, but maybe we can continue this tonight. Grab a meal somewhere? I’ll send you a text.”

  “Yeah, okay.” Scott was clearly worried that he’d said something wrong, but Joey was too busy fleeing the scene to comfort him.

  What had he almost done? More important, what did he want to do now? Not just in the next few hours or summer vacation, but with the rest of his life. Education and career were easy. He’d had those planned out since junior high and knew he could accomplish any goal he set his mind to. But now Joey wondered where love fit in. Was it as important as Bradley and Scott made it seem, or were they simply being nostalgic?

  After a moment’s thought, he realized there was one way to find out.

  * * * * *

  The playing field of choice was a sports bar. Joey couldn’t think of an environment less conducive to romance than that. Televisions begged for attention from every corner, the roar of the stadium audience white noise that filled the air, cut only by the occasional referee’s whistle. The only thing anyone fell in love with here was the onion rings, which Joey had to admit smelled terrific.

  Scott was there already. That had been easy to arrange, since he had agreed to meet him for dinner, but his expression was uncertain as he waited for Joey’s arrival. The truth was, Joey had been there all along, hiding behind the waiters’ station where the stench of cigarettes slowly invaded the non-smoking section.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to be seated?”

  Joey waved the waiter away without looking at him. “I’m fine. I’m supposed to meet someone at this very spot, and then I’ll be out of your way.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  The power of the tie, Joey thought. No one argued with a man in a tie.

  He felt better now that he was wearing one again. He ducked a few more times to avoid being seen when the front door finally opened and Bradley squeezed through. This had been trickier to arrange, since Joey didn’t think Bradley had any romantic inclinations toward him. Still, the offer to knock back a couple of beers at the restaurant his uncle owned had seduced him well enough. More lies, of course, but the promise of underage drinking was irresistible. Who knew, this little trap of Joey’s might lead to love.

  Or it might lead to an awkward conversation and at most a one-night stand before they went their separate ways again. Joey told himself he was putting love to the test, scientifically observing the combination of two chemicals for any sign of reaction, but deep down he wanted them to succeed. He wanted the unfriendly atmosphere to drive them out into the night where they would walk together hand in hand, discovering for the first time that they had both felt the same way all along.

  Bradley and Scott spotted each other at the same moment. The magic began to build. Scott stood, as if standing at a formal dining table so a lady could sit, and Bradley rushed over. Then . . . a kiss? A hug? But no, not even a handshake. There was some low conversation and awkward body language before Scott gestured for him to sit. Bradley did, and it soon turned worse when they both began scouring the menus. The magic withdrew, defeated by greasy laminated photos of artery-clogging food.

  “Forget the stupid barbeque ribs,” Joey hissed to himself. Why had he set them up for failure? He should have chosen a romantic restaurant or arranged a chance meeting by a lake. Anything but this miserable dive that would witness the undignified death of a high school romance.

  “Te amo!”

  Bradley’s voice boomed through the restaurant as he pushed his menu away. The magic was back! Scott appeared confused for a moment before the old Spanish lessons kicked in.

  “Te amo,” Bradley repeated, but this time his voice was gentle, and Joey was forced to read his lips. Then they were all smiles and flushing faces as they spoke soft confessions. Soon enough, they gestured to their surroundings and laughed before Bradley stood and offered his hand. Then they let the magic carry them away from the horrible little sports bar to a place where their hearts could be made one.

  Joey watched them walk out the door, hand in hand, and allowed himself an uncharacteristic sigh. Then he pictured where the evening would take them. “Maybe I’ll be peeping in a window tonight,” he said to himself before chuckling madly.

  “Sorry? Did you say something?”

  Oh, god, not the stupid waiter again! Joey spun around to find someone about his age with a shock of blond hair, ivory skin, and intense blue eyes. Eyes that had been trained somewhere down below but now rushed to his face. The eyes widened, not unlike a deer caught in headlights, except in this case the headlights had been Joey’s rear end.

  What the hell. The night was still young and love was in the air. Or was it only the tang of expired barbeque sauce? Either way, he extended a hand.

  “Joseph. Joseph Cooper.”

  The waiter nodded and ignored the hand. “I know who you are, Joey. We were in the same chemistry class.”

  “We were?”

  The waiter raised an eyebrow. Oh, great. He had hurt feelings. Joey wracked his brains, trying to remember who this person was. He was attractive, which made it all the odder that Joey couldn’t remember him. He was just thin and small enough to make Joey feel big and masculine, a feeling he enjoyed, so why hadn’t he noticed him before?

  “I remember! Phillip! The one with horrible glasses and the zits.”

  The raised eyebrow shot down, joined by the other in a scowl. “Thanks.”

  “I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re cute now. Who cares if you were a walking pimple back then?”

  “If you aren’t going to order something, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  Phillip’s intense blue eyes smoldered, the anger sparking a flame in Joey. This could be fun. Joey adopted his best cocky posture and gave a lazy grin. “I’m not really hungry to be honest, at least not for food. What time do you get off? Maybe we could meet up and have some fun.”

  Phillip blinked at him, grabbed a couple of menus from his station, and walked away to serve a table. Okay, so they had gotten off on the wrong foot. Joey would let him steam for a moment, but by the time he came back to the waiters’ station, they would have a laugh over the whole debacle before making plans for the evening.

  Except Phillip didn’t come back. Instead he shot a few glares in Joey’s direction, and later sent a coworker over to fetch things he needed. Shortly after that, Phillip disappeared into the kitchen and didn’t come out again.

  “I have better things to do with my time,” Joey muttered as he headed for the door. The guy was probably a closet case or something. No big loss. Jo
ey had accomplished what he came here to do. Bradley and Scott were probably grinning stupidly at each other at this very moment and exchanging tender words, so his good deed was done. Love was sweet, but what Joey needed was fun, not complications. As he stepped out into the night air, he decided to put the entire matter of love behind him.

  * * * * *

  “What in the world possessed you to bring me here?” Maggie frowned at the sports-related décor, before turning her attention to the sloppily dressed men at the bar and wincing. “Seriously, what did I do to offend you?”

  “They have good onion rings,” Joey muttered, his attention locked on the menu.

  Maggie shrugged and dug in her purse until she found some nail polish. “I’ll just watch you eat. I’m trying to watch my figure for Dave.”

  Joey loved her too much to scoff. Maggie had been his best friend for years and was his equal in her appetite for men. No one they went to school with appreciated her vivacious curves, so Maggie had long ago turned to older men with a shameless interesting in big beautiful women. She wasn’t as fond of one-night stands as Joey was, but her wandering heart ensured that none of her relationships lasted very long.

  “You have to order something or it will look weird,” Joey said.

  “Since when do you care what anyone thinks?” The nail polish froze in mid-stroke. “Oh, I get it. What’s his name?”

  Out of the corner of his eye, Joey could see the waiter approaching from behind. “Not now,” he hissed. “Please!”

  Maggie shrugged, a smile lifting her cheeks as she resumed painting her nails.

  “Can I get you some—” Phillip noticed Joey for the first time and recognized him. No surprise since it had only been yesterday that he asked Joey to leave. “Can I get you something to drink?”

  “Just a Coke for me,” Joey said.

  Maggie glanced casually at the menu. “Vanilla malt. With a cherry on top.” She crinkled her nose at Phillip and winked. Joey would kill her, but later, when there were fewer witnesses around.

 

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