He leaps towards me and I shut my eyes, getting ready to receive a punch, but he stops himself just inches away from my face.
“Answer me!” he yells. “Are you a fucking queer?” Okay, I’m so scared now that I’m about to wet my pants.
“Answer!” he repeats. Some of the spit from his mouth lands on my face. There’s nothing else I can do now but answer his question.
“Yes!” I shout, heart pounding erratically. Anger has momentarily leached away my terror. “I’m a fag! I’m queer! I am!”
He is taken aback with my strong reaction, but only for a second. Emboldened, I use that second to plant another kiss on his lips.
He is as surprised by it as I am, but then the rage comes. I can see his fist clenching, ready to land a blow. I was imagining his small cute hands touching my skin just half an hour ago, but I didn’t think it’d be by the way of crushing my jawbone.
Then, to my surprise, his anger melts into amusement.
“Well, so am I,” he says and bursts out laughing.
My stomach sinks. What? Was it all a joke?
“Sorry,” Eric says through his laughter. “I just had to do it. The expression on your face was priceless.”
“Oh.” I turn so that he can’t see my face.
“Sorry, sorry,” he says and comes closer. “It was an opportunity I couldn’t pass up.”
“You’re a little fucker!” I shout, giving him a shove, desperately trying to mask my relief with anger.
“I’m sorry. Don’t be mad with me.”
I look at him. He is smiling adorably, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world. I can’t tell if I find it infuriating or endearing. Probably both.
After a long, sulking moment I shake my head and smile. He comes closer, eyes locked on mine. The smiles gradually fade away from both our faces as we just keep looking into each other’s eyes.
And then he leans in to kiss me.
This time his lips are alive and moving, exploring mine with a passionate fervor that I’ve never quite experienced before.
Alas, I am only able to enjoy the kiss for about a couple of seconds before I feel a strong physical urge that doesn’t leave any room for kissing.
I pull away from Eric as quickly as possible and manage to take a few steps in the opposite direction before I hurl.
I hear Eric laughing behind my back.
“And that is how you know you had a wonderful time, my friend.”
Nothing of what has happened yesterday seems like fun to me now.
First of all, don’t get me started about this headache. It feels like I’m dying. Also, it seems as if a family of raccoons may have moved into my mouth overnight. I am beyond parched.
I cautiously crack open my eyelids and immediately recoil like a vampire. The light is so intensely bright that it sends shockwaves through my retinas, into my skull, down my spine, and all throughout my body. I want nothing more than to crawl under the covers and hide for the rest of the day. Alas, that particular fantasy isn’t meant to be. I have to drink something or I will die, I swear.
I flail my arm against the contents of my bedside table, hoping to come across a bottle of water, lest I actually have to move from my cocoon. Fortunately, the bottle is there. I unscrew the cap in one motion which I didn’t think was physically possible. I literally shiver in pleasure as I drink, downing the entire bottle without so much as a single breath.
Some of the agony recedes, but not much of it. Now I start remembering what happened yesterday, in vivid detail.
I kissed Eric! How could I? I never thought that I was a type of person who cheats. I was trying so hard to keep my distance from Jake that I forgot to keep my distance from Eric. We’re not even friends! I didn’t know about the kindergarten thing until he told me about it last night.
It’s just that he’s cute and I like watching him, but I only allowed myself to flirt with him because I never thought anything would come out of it. I wasn’t even that sure he was gay.
Now the big question is; do I tell Mitch about it or not?
I ponder over it for a moment.
No, I decide. I can’t tell him. He would probably understand and forgive me for it, but it would hurt him nonetheless. I don’t want to hurt him. Besides, there is really nothing to talk about. It was just a drunk kiss, one insignificant kiss.
Nobody knows about it anyway. I’m pretty sure Eric won’t blab. So I’ll just keep it a secret then, a small little secret that I will banish to the farthest corner of my mind, never to be thought about again.
Oh God, my headache is killing me. I’m totally gonna hurl…
9
Emptying my stomach isn’t fun, but it does make me feel a bit better. Less than an hour later I am able to regain some of my wits and escape the suite unnoticed. I make my way towards the payphone attached to the wall of the employee’s building. I have to call Mitch.
I stare at the weathered red bricks on the wall as I listen to the phone ring methodically.
This is one of the things that we do to keep our relationship working, one phone call every morning, no exceptions. We let each other catch up on the events of each other’s days, yesterdays to be exact. Also, every other weekend Mitch comes down for a visit, and every fourth Saturday is my turn to drive up to Boston and visit with him and his family. I don’t like doing that, mostly because Mitch is not out of the closet yet and his family thinks that we’re just friends.
Don’t get me wrong, Mitch’s family is nice. He has a cool dad who I’ve already mentioned before is friends with a Hollywood producer—he even got us the greenlight to visit the set of the latest zombie thriller. His mother is alright too, although she can be a little strict sometimes. He has a younger brother and a sister, the same way I do, both way nicer than mine, but I still feel uncomfortable pretending to be Mitch’s “friend.” A football buddy no less! I was barely even on the team to begin with, and I don’t like lying about it. But it’s not like I would pressure him into coming out before he’s ready or anything. I’m not that petty. Mitch is patient with me when it comes to sex, and I can be patient with him too.
‘Hey!” he says cheerfully, picking up on the third ring. He is always happy to hear me. It makes me feel like a moldy sandwich.
“So, do I need to wish you happy birthday again?” he asks right off the bat.
I smile and say, “Yeah, it wouldn’t hurt.”
“Well, then happy birthday, Sam.” I can practically feel the warmth and sincerity of his words, even through the cold metal of the phone.
“Thanks,” I say.
“So, how’s it been so far?”
“Not bad really,” I say, twisting the cord between two fingers. “Just a couple of minor accidents, nothing major.”
“That’s good to hear,” he says. “My happy birthday antidote must be working.”
It is. But it wasn’t strong enough to keep me from making a big mistake, I’m afraid.
“So how’d the party go?”
“Oh, it was okay. Well, aside from Janine asking me all sorts of annoying inappropriate questions. You know, about me not having a girlfriend and all…” Mitch snickers at that. He knows exactly what I’m talking about. “So, aside from that, the evening went smoothly. All my relatives turned out to be pretty supportive of me having a job.”
“That’s because you’re doing the right thing. Did you have that get-together with Melissa and Kenan after the official part was over?”
“No, not really… Kenan had an upset stomach, so he couldn’t stay,” I tell him, encouraging a pang in my own upset stomach. “Melissa couldn’t stay either. And neither could Jake. He had a family dinner thing or something. So there was nobody left to have a get-together with.”
“Jake is there?” Mitch asks immediately.
Shit! I didn’t even realize what I’d said. I was too focused on the Eric thing.
I steel myself. “Yeah, funny story, his father turned out to be friends with the owner of the res
ort, which came as a total surprise to me. I mean I only ran into him accidentally and he was asking questions about my birthday and I mentioned the get-together and it would have been just impolite not to invite him... So I did. Don’t be angry with me,” I say it all in one breath.
“I’m not angry… with you…” Mitch says, although his tone is no longer cheerful. “You can be friends with him. I mean if you want to.”
“I just ran into him accidentally, I told you.”
“Okay then. So there was no get-together at all?”
“No, I just went back to the suite, was reading until I fell asleep. So nothing major happened,” I lie. “Nothing at all.”
“Oh, I’m sorry about that. I was hoping you would get a chance to have a proper celebration this year.”
“It’s okay. It was nice to hang out with my family. Besides, it’s no fun without you here.” It’s such a lie that I actually cringe as the words leave my lips.
“You’re too sweet,” he says and I can feel him smiling on the other end of line. “Yeah, I wish I could have been there for you…”
“I get it. It’s okay,” I interrupt him. The last thing I want is for Mitch to feel guilty about not being here for me. If anything, it’s me who should feel guilty about… well, everything. I just wish this weekend would go away so I could be done with it.
“I’ll see you next Saturday, I promise,” Mitch says.
“I’ll be waiting,” I say. Finally, a hint of truth.
“Okay, have a happy birthday then and,” he says and stops for a second before he adds, “I love you.”
“Okay, thanks, bye,” I blurt out and hang up the phone as fast as physically possible.
I cover my face with my hands, embarrassed with myself.
Great job Sam, I think to myself bitterly. Boyfriend of the year!
10
So, after retching one last time and drinking another full bottle of water, I go meet up with Melissa and Kenan at the C wing of the main complex.
The work day has officially begun.
Wing C is basically a spacious series of hallways, all with a sole window at one end and a door at the other. It is also home to the majority of the guest suites.
We all stride down the hallway with massive breakfast carts, heaped full of delicious goodies. I take first in line, so I can avoid their questions, but Melissa and Kenan are right on my heels.
“So? What happened?” Melissa asks. I just stop my cart in front of one of the doors and knock.
“What do you mean what happened?” I already know that Eric told them about the two of us spending time together last night. He didn’t mention anything about the bottle of Jack Daniels, of course, or the kiss, thank God, but I’d rather he didn’t say anything at all.
“Last night… You were hanging out with Eric… How did it go?” Melissa clarifies, a little peevishly.
“It was fine.” The door in front of me creaks open.
“Good morning, Sir! Would you like some breakfast?” I ask politely and the man standing before me ushers me in.
I tell him what we’re serving and place two heaping plates full of pancakes on the suite’s singular dining table, per his instructions. The pancakes are covered with strawberry syrup and sprinkled with some chopped strawberry too. There’s a little bit of whipped cream on the side. It would have looked delicious if I wasn’t feeling so bad. The sight of the pancakes turns my stomach. It’s a good thing that my stomach is empty or I would have puked.
We exchange pleasantries for a moment, then I exit, scurrying to the next door in a flash.
“And?” Melissa prompts, still behind me.
“And what?”
“What was it like? What was he like? I want details,” she says. I glance behind me. Kenan is silent, but listening with rapt attention nonetheless. I roll my eyes. I can’t tell them that Eric is gay. It’s not my secret to share. Besides, if I’m sticking to the plan of not telling anyone about our kiss, then I’m not supposed to know that he’s gay anyway.
“I don’t know what you want me to tell you,” I say, letting my annoyance creep into my tone. I knock at the next door, hoping that somebody will open it quickly.
“I want details! Come on, Sam, spill! What did the two of you talk about anyway?” she whines. Eric is always friendly with all of us, but he doesn’t like to talk much. I can see why she’s curious, but that isn’t exactly my problem.
“We talked about the movie we watched, King Kong,” I say finally. “The ‘76 version.”
“What else?” she digs.
“Not much.”
“Saaaaaaaaam!”
“I’m not answering any more of these stupid questions,” I snap. “If you wanna know something, ask him yourself.”
Melissa tries to protest but I shut her down with a glare. It’s her own fault really; I learned it from her.
“Okay, just tell me one thing… Do you think he’s straight or do you think he’s gay?”
I groan internally.
Both Kenan and Melissa are looking at me impatiently as I am trying to figure out how to answer that question.
“How am I supposed to know? It’s not like I asked him or anything.” Not exactly a lie.
“No, but you’ve spent some time together. Did you notice anything… you know…” she trails off.
I shake my head.
“Did he act… gay?” Kenan interjects. “Was there something about him that would have made you think he was gay? The way he talked or the way he moved or something.”
“You are being ridiculous! He talked and moved the same way he does in the dining hall. There was nothing particularly gay about him but that doesn’t mean he’s not. I don’t know what he is. I have no idea, I swear. Can you leave me alone now, please?”
“Okay, sheesh,” Melissa says. She is not satisfied but she lets the issue drop, for the moment at least. I know her well, and I know that she is not done with the subject of Eric yet, not by a long shot.
We increase our efforts and serve all of the remaining guests in silence.
I wait for a moment when both Melissa and Kenan disappear behind doorways before making a run for it. I dart down the hallway. I’m missing doors left and right, but I don’t really care about that. Let Melissa and Kenan take care of those suites. Suddenly, a door to my left opens. I’m getting ready to see a hungry impatient vacationer, but my eyes snag on Eric instead.
He stops in the doorway and says, “Can I have my breakfast, please?”
He is pretending to be one of the guests. He’s even wearing a white bathrobe, one that hangs in every bathroom around here. I smile.
I glance back at the hallway. Fortunately, both Melissa and Kenan are still out of sight.
“Melissa and Kenan are following me!” I confide in him, sorta.
“I suppose you better come in then,” he tuts and helps me push the cart inside.
11
“You shouldn’t have told them about last night,” I say, making sure the door is tightly shut and locked.
“I had no choice. Melissa wasn’t going to lay off the subject until I told her that we ended up spending time together.”
“Yeah, that sounds like Melissa,” I snort.
“She’s not really that bad.”
“Why don’t you start dating her then? She has a crush on you, you know,” I blurt out. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that, but it’s not much of a secret anyway.
“I know,” Eric says calmly.
“You do?”
“Of course, she’s making it kind of obvious. And it looks like that Kenan guy has the hots for me too,” he adds.
“So you picked up on that?”
“Duh,” he says with his best shit-eating grin. I can’t help but feel offended for Melissa and Kenan, even though I’m angry with them right now. Eric obviously doesn’t take their feelings seriously.
“I’m just not interested in either of them,” he adds.
“They’re not bad,” I say
, mimicking him accidentally.
“I know but…” he begins. “But it’s you I’m interested in.”
He steps closer to me and now I have to press myself against the wall to avoid any physical contact. That doesn’t stop Eric though. He is shortening the distance between us, confident and forceful.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m trying to pick up where we left off last night,” he croons.
He presses his body against mine, his lips almost grazing my own. I hold up a hand to stop him.
“I have a boyfriend, Eric. I shouldn’t have kissed you. I was drunk. I’m sorry.”
He looks me straight in the eyes and thinks about it for a second. He doesn’t seem to be bothered by that information all that much.
“It’s great that you have a boyfriend, Sam, really. But does that have to stop us from having some fun?”
Woah. I wasn’t expecting that turn of events.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Don’t overanalyze it, Sam. Just relax,” he murmurs before closing the distance between us again. I feel his lips pressed against mine.
I try to resist the kiss at first; I purse my lips and everything.
But he does have a point. I do overanalyze everything...
Against logic, against my conscience and fears, my body responds to his kiss. I part my lips and let him do what he does so well.
Eric’s lips taste like freedom to me. It’s the taste of adventure. My mind screams at me for being stupid and reckless, but I block it out. I think I’m getting good at that losing control thing.
12
As much as I would have loved to ignore Melissa all day, lunch time is upon us.
“Are we not talking or something?” she asks, as she strolls by the table I’m busing.
I don’t respond.
“Okay, I get it. Don’t be mad at me,” she pleads. “I’m sorry.”
Sam Dorsey and His Dirty Dancing Page 5
