by Mel Bossa
“Well, see, that’s a whole new dilemma right there. ‘Cause I just don’t know what to do about you.”
He was making light of my question. Hot blood stung my cheeks and I looked away at my bookcase. Maybe I was being too demanding. Maybe I wasn’t worth a serious answer.
“Hey…” Nick tried to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t answer your question, now did I?”
I stared right at him, as deep as I could reach into his heart.
Nick’s breath hitched and he put his face close to mine. “The truth?”
I nodded, barely breathing.
“Truth is, O’Reilly, you don’t say much. You disappear for days. I never know what the fuck is going on in that head of yours. You watch me like I’m seconds away from self-combustion and you’re the only one who knows it, and bottom line, you’re so intense, I’m afraid of touching you. ‘Cause I suspect that once I get a real taste of you, I’m gonna be hooked.”
Flustered, I looked down at his hand on mine.
“When you’re around me,” he said, making me look at him again, “I feel better than I’ve ever felt before. You take me back into myself. Most of the time, I live in my head, but you make me feel like an animal…Like, all skin and glands and flesh. It feels so good. It feels like I’m real. Like I know who I am.”
I needed to put my arms around him.
“And another thing, your hair is out of this world.” Smiling, Nick touched a strand of my hair, turning it into his fingers. “This isn’t a color. This is a fucking statement.”
I laughed.
“Wow…when you laugh, when you let your guard down, my heart feels like it’s gonna beat right out of my chest.” Nick pulled me closer, hugging me tight. “But I gotta take it slow with you. Real slow.”
The scent of his sweater, hair, skin, was intoxicating, and I closed my eyes, my face pressed into his shoulder. I could feel our bodies connecting, exchanging thoughts I couldn’t hear, his energy passing through my rib cage, flowing in and out of my beating heart with every breath we shared.
“You know you haven’t said one nice thing to me yet.” Nick stroked my hair, his fingertips sometimes reaching the top of my ear. “I’m doing all the talking. No fair. Say something.”
I was standing in front of the Grand Canyon, being asked to point out a beautiful viewpoint.
“All right, forget it.” Nick laughed and leaned back. “Now we have to go get some chips.”
He hadn’t even kissed me on the mouth. Why?
“Come on, O’Reilly,” he said, walking to the open door. “If they catch me down here with you, I’ll be in deep shit.”
“Why?” I rose and met him by the door.
“Why…‘cause everybody thinks I’m the big bad wolf.” He kissed the top of my hair. “And you’re little innocent Red lost in the woods.”
“That’s no—ot true.”
“Oh no? You don’t think so, little Red?” Nick’s eyes turned feral as he eyed me over as though I was a banquet he was going to sit down to. Then without a word, he pushed me up against the door frame, pinning my hands over my head the way he had the other night, and pressed his mouth to my neck.
I groaned, lifting my head as to offer him my neck.
“Maybe I should devour you right now and be done with it,” Nick said in a husky voice, right into my ear.
But before I could beg him to, he’d walked off, climbing up the stairs in great big steps. Next time, I promised myself, I wouldn’t let him slip away.
I could still feel his teeth on my skin. And I loved it.
Chapter 10
At the pizza parlor, after I returned from the nasty bathroom I wished I’d never seen, I slipped back into the worn leather booth, next to David and facing Nick. The ashtray was full of David’s half-finished menthol cigarettes. Then I realized they’d stopped talking the moment I’d sat.
On the table, the pizza box was open and empty. We’d shared an extra-large all-dressed pizza. David had a piece. I’d had three. Nick had had the rest.
It was almost nine o’clock. It was a school day. I’d been with them all afternoon, skipping classes. David had tried out for a dance show, but hadn’t been selected on account of him being a minor and not having his parents’ signature on some form. He was pissed off. Barely speaking to us. Nick had decided to take us out for pizza to try and cheer David up.
I was being cruel to my mother by not calling her at least. Part of me wanted to, but another part, the evil one, wanted to punish her for spending the last five years ignoring me.
David picked up a discarded newspaper on the other table and slowly flipped through it. He crushed his cigarette into the ashtray. “Oh, look at that, the FDA finally approved that new AIDS drug. AZT.” He scoffed. “What took them so long? I bet if it was straight rich white guys dying, they’d have the whole fucking medical community working on this thing around the clock.”
I leaned in closer to him and read a few lines of the article.
I hated that diabolical virus. My mother had cried the day Rock Hudson had died of it. We’d watched the movie The Giant and I’d tried to see where Rock had been gay. His eyes? Hands? Voice? I couldn’t see it. And I’d cried, too. But that day, I hadn’t been mourning his passing. Only the passing of my own innocence. I’d never be allowed to explore my sexuality with carelessness. I’d be forever afraid.
Then I felt watched and looked up to catch the dark expression on Nick’s face. We were reading the paper right in front of him. Guilt made me blush a little.
Nick dug into his jeans and threw a twenty on the table. “All right, let’s go.” I could tell he was troubled. By our reading or by AIDS?
But David lit another cigarette. “I’m staying right here.” He blew out the match and dropped it into his coffee cup. “I’m not going home.”
The tension between them was suddenly palpable. I looked at Nick’s face, mesmerized by the threat moving across his stare like a sheet of ice.
“You can stare at me like that all night, Lund, but I’m not going home tonight.” There were dark circles under David’s eyes. His face was ashen pale. But he was still beautiful. “Take Lucky Charms home before they accuse you of kidnapping.”
I hated that little stupid leprechaun on the cereal box. David had started calling me that. I frowned, prepared to ask him to stop, but I’d knew I’d stutter and he’d cut me off.
“Let’s go, Davie. Come on. We’ll drop O’Reilly off and go for a drive or something. We’ll talk it out. Come on. There’ll be more auditions.”
I was being excluded.
David moved in his seat and shot me a look. “What do you think, little boy? Should I obey Thor here and go home to get the belt—” he stared at Nick and blew smoke into his face, “—or…maybe I could go get fucked by my forty-year-old closet case out in NDG?”
Get fucked. I’d never heard a guy say it like that. Get fucked. The words danced around a wild fire in my mind. David was having sex. Real sex with men. I was frozen in my seat, waiting for Nick’s reaction. Surely, he didn’t know.
But Nick reached out and snatched the cigarette right out of David’s fine fingers, took a long drag and blew the smoke into David’s face. “I’m driving you home.”
David coughed a little, swiping the smoke away with a quick hand, then looked out the window at the people waking by on the street. “No…I’m done, Nicolai. Just done.”
“I’m not letting you run off to that old jerk again. He uses you.” Nick lowered his voice, leaning into the table. “What’s wrong with you?”
David snapped his head around. “What’s wrong with me? You, you’re gonna ask me that? At least, that old jerk lets me suck his dick.”
My mouth popped open and a stupid giggle escaped my mouth.
“Oh, see, now you’re learning, little boy, aren’t you?” David scoffed. “Here’s something you don’t know. Our fabulous Nicolai here, won’t allow himself to lose control and has never let a guy touch him below the
belt or—”
“Shut up, Davie.” With a painful expression, Nick looked down at his empty plate, then without a word, stood and left the table.
“Nico—” David tried to reach Nick’s coat over me, but couldn’t. “I’m sorry.”
Stunned, I watched Nick leave the restaurant.
David shoved me. “Move.”
But I sat there like a ton of bricks and glared at David, seething with anger. He’d hurt Nick. He’d made his blue eyes turn sad.
“Look,” David said, sighing, “I don’t know what the hell you think you’re doing with him or who you are, but you’re in over your head here, Lucky—”
“Don’t ca—all me that.” I wouldn’t look away. “My name is D—derek.”
David’s expression softened as he put both hands on my cheeks. “Okay, Derek…now please move so I can repair the damage I just caused.”
I slid out of the booth and we left the restaurant together, walking back to the car. I was relieved to see Nick standing against his car door on the other side of the street. David crossed over to him, but when I stepped down the curb, the light turned green at the corner and I couldn’t cross right away. A flow of cars rolled by and I stood on the sidewalk, waiting for my chance and watching David talk to Nick.
When I joined them a few minutes later, David was sitting in the front seat of the car. Apparently, Nick and he had come to an understanding.
Then soon we were driving down Rue Saint Catherine, going west. Going home. I had no idea what awaited me tonight. Not a word was being said between us and I stared out the window, feeling more and more nervous. I patted my coat pocket and the shape of my inhaler reassured me.
“I’m gonna fix everything with your mom,” Nick said, breaking the silence. “I have the story down and everything. Just don’t talk.”
“Well, that shouldn’t be too hard.” David looked at me in the side mirror. “Beautiful and silent.”
David thought I was beautiful?
“Everything’s gonna be okay.” Nick nodded to himself.
At the red light, David popped his car door open and ran off. Wide-eyed, I watched his long black coat flap until he’d disappeared into a side street. He’d taken off without a word of warning. That took some serious gall. I checked for Nick’s reaction.
“Goddamn it,” he snarled, craning his neck to see out of the side window. “I should have known he’d pull something like that. He was being way too agreeable. Now he’s off to see his lover.”
We spent the next few minutes circling the area, but never found David.
Ten minutes later, at our apartment building, Nick stopped the car and sat there for a moment, gazing out at the quiet and snowy street. “I did what I could. It’s out of my hands.” He sighed. “He’s so fucking self-destructive, but it’s only because he hungers for love.” He was quiet and then added, “I have to keep an eye on him…do you understand?”
I leaned in between the seats. “Yes.”
Obviously a little surprised, Nick turned to look at me, our faces coming close. “I’m sorry for dragging you along,” he said.
I frowned, troubled by his words. Dragging me?
“But you enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?” Nick touched my hair, smiling a little. I wanted to kiss him. I moved closer. But Nick kissed my forehead. “Let’s go see your mother before she makes herself sick worrying about you.”
Frustrated, I stepped out of the car and walked up the stairs to my door.
Nick was in the street looking up at me with a strange expression.
“I don’t ne—eed your help with m—my mother.” Without hesitating, I climbed down to him and stopped close. I grabbed his face and kissed him hard on the lips. “Good night,” I said, releasing his face. “I un—understand you more than you know.”
When I was at my door again, Nick called out to me. “O’Reilly!”
I looked over my shoulder at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Damn, man, you taste like a candy cane,” Nick said with a smirk. He licked his lips. “Hm. Delicious.”
“I’ll see you to—tomorrow.”
He laughed and saluted me. “Yes, sir.”
Chapter 11
I sat in our living room, trying to read a stupid French book. I had a test on it come Monday, but I really didn’t give a care about D’Artagnan and his musketeers. I’d been cooped up in the apartment since Tuesday and today was Saturday. Nick had come around twice, but each time, my mother had yelled at him through the window in the door and scared him off. I couldn’t blame him. There was no arguing with Dolores O’Reilly.
Bored out of my mind and restless, I tossed the six-hundred-page book on the coffee table and stood. I was bleary-eyed and my head felt heavy on my neck. I needed fresh air. I crept down the hall, checking my mother’s bedroom door. She was in there watching a movie. “Mom,” I said very quietly so that she couldn’t hear. “I’m gay. And I’m gonna have sex with Nick Lund before Christmas.” Saying it out loud felt amazing. What else could I confess? I thought about it for a moment. “I don’t remember my brother’s name.” I wasn’t stuttering. I walked closer to her door, hearing gunshots and screaming. She was watching a Vietnam War movie again. “Also, I don’t believe in God anymore. Well, I’m taking a break in believing. I might go back to it later on. And…I possibly have an abnormal sex drive. I think about sex almost every minute of the day.” I paused. Was there something else to add? “I’m leaving, even though I’m grounded. I’m sixteen and it’s unhealthy for me to stay here one more minute.” I walked away and then turned and looked at her door one last time. “Thank you. I love you.”
There, now things were clear between us.
I grabbed my coat, slipped my feet into my boots without lacing them up, and stepped out. The weather was perfect. The snow shone white under a pale-yellow November sun. Kids were out playing in their front yards, but I didn’t see Boone or Lene. Our steps and path needed to be cleared, so I picked up the shovel and got to work. Slowly, as I dug and shoveled snow, the veil that had been covering my mind in the last days began to lift. The exercise revived me, and after a few minutes, I paused, leaning over the shovel handle to assess my work. I could have shoveled the whole street. Then I noticed that Nick’s car was parked in the street. He was home! I dropped the shovel and nearly ran around to their path. I hurried up the steps to the Lund porch. I knocked and waited eagerly. Couldn’t wait to see his face. To hear his voice.
I peeked through the glass in the door. I could hear music and someone laughing. They seemed to be having a party in there. I rang the bell this time and saw Lene running up to the door. “Hello!” she yelled, the door slamming open against boots and coats. She was wearing bright-yellow Tweety the Bird pajamas. “Are you here for our brunch?”
Brunch? I’d never had brunch in my life. I wasn’t even sure what people ate at brunch.
After I’d removed my coat and boots, Lene talked and talked, leading me down the hall, to the kitchen. “Derek is here,” she announced as we entered the sunny room. It smelled like cinnamon and brown sugar, mixed in with freshly brewed coffee, and over those wonderful scents, there was a spike of my favorite: fried bacon. I was serious about becoming a vegetarian, cutting back on meat lately, but bacon? No, I couldn’t resist.
Nick was at the stove with his mother, and when he turned and our eyes met, we both grinned happily, invisible electrical currents zapping between us across the room. He flipped a pancake by agilely swinging the pan. “The Count of Monte Cristo has escaped.”
At the table, Johan was in his big blue robe playing chess with Boone. He greeted me with a warm smile and Helga offered me a cup of coffee that had a hint of cardamom in it. I knew the spice because Aunt Fran had taken me to the Jewish neighborhood last year and we’d had coffee there together.
I’d spent the last days in desolation, trapped in my apartment, and now, I was being invited to the Lunds’ table. My heart swelled with gratitude as I sat next to Boone, sipping the
delicious coffee. Boone and Johan were competitive and their banter made me smile. Lene was drawing in a coloring book. They were pictures of Native American people and animals. Helga helped Nick in the kitchen, and I watched them for a while, mother and son. They were so physically alike, though Helga was much more petite, but they had the same striking face and platinum blond hair. Nick was remarkable in the kitchen. I remembered David’s dancing and understood that Nick too, was an artist in his own way. He seemed to glide from place to place, and his movements were concise, yet free flowing. Mesmerized, I followed his every step.
I soon found out that brunch was everything people had for breakfast served with fruit added. Nick and I were allowed to have a mimosa, which was champagne and orange juice, and I decided then and there that I’d have mimosas for breakfast every day of my life once I’d moved into my own place. Throughout the meal, I listened to the Lunds talk, quibble over food, share stories, and argue. The food fed my body, but their words nourished my soul.
When we’d all had our fill, Lene and Boone helped clear the table and I offered to wash the dishes with Helga, but she refused and ordered us out of the kitchen. Pretty soon, Johan was dozing off in his chair in the living room and Boone and Lene had thrown their snow suits over their pajamas and bolted out the front door.
“I have to get ready for work,” Nick said, in the hall. “But you hang out here until I leave.” He tossed his head at the basement door. “Wanna listen to music or something?”
I swallowed hard and nodded. I wanted to be alone with him, because the food and mimosa were working through me, turning my body into a warm furnace that needed to be stoked.
Downstairs, Nick opened his bedroom door and then flicked the light on. I stood in the doorway, shocked by what I saw. A hurricane must have hit his bedroom. It was as though some giant had dislodged the room from the rest of the apartment, shook it like a snow globe, and returned it to its original place.
Nick didn’t seem to notice the mess. He moved stuff off the bed. “Sit down.”
Then as I gazed around, I saw that the room was clean. There was no dust. It smelled nice in here, too. It was simply…a mess of things. He hadn’t mentioned David yet and I was dying to know what had happened to him. I’d been thinking about David in the last days. I liked him, even if he didn’t like me back. “Is David a—all right?”
