I thought about that for a while.
“When I kissed you that time,” I said, although I really didn’t like bringing it up, “is that what you thought about me? That I just wanted something from you?”
Harper kept smiling at me.
“I didn’t know what to think about you, if you want to know the truth. But I decided to give you a chance. It was a different experience for me, having a boy who hardly knew me in love with me.”
We both let those words sit there. Neither of us had ever spoken them before. The last thing I would ever do is deny them, but I didn’t know what to do with them either. They just sat there between us, daring us to say something further or to make some move.
“Come here,” Harper said.
I moved over next to him and put my head against his chest. I was soon lost in the swoon of his smell.
I could hear his heart beating. I loved that heart. His body felt good below my face. I adjusted my position so that more of my body touched more of his. Even with our clothes on, it was sexy.
“I never thought an older guy would let me do this,” I said.
Harper put his hand through my hair a couple of times, maybe three, and whispered in my ear, “I will.”
After night fell, we still sat there, mostly in silence, just enjoying each other’s presence, enjoying the feeling of our bodies next to each other. There was nothing much left to say. Neither of us made any move to do anything more. That might have spoiled everything, I understood now. And I didn’t think Harper would go for that anyway. He had offered me this, and this was enough. A couple of times I thought about giving him another kiss, but I let those thoughts subside and just kept laying there, enjoying his touch, his smell. I was in heaven.
“I’m going to be busy,” Harper said when he dropped me off.
It sounded like a line.
“Hey!” Harper could see the dejection in my face. “Look at me!”
He had never spoken to me that way before. He was always so laid back. I remembered that within four years he would be a second lieutenant. He was learning to command attention. He had mine.
“I wish I could spend the whole Christmas with you; honestly, I do. But I’ve got a lot of family here, including two little sisters I love, and I don’t have long in town. If I get a chance, I’ll call you and we can hang out again. But if I don’t it’s because I can’t manage it, not because I don’t want to.”
I nodded that I understood.
I guess I still looked a bit dejected.
“You’re special to me,” Harper said then. “Don’t know where the hell you came from, and I never thought I’d have a boy before, but you’re here, and I like being with you more than I thought I would. I can’t explain it.”
“Don’t try. Just let it happen.”
“Okay, philosopher. I’ll do that.” Harper smiled again, his serious look gone.
I smiled back. He winked at me. It was sexy as hell.
That was the only time I saw him that Christmas break, but it was more than enough.
Chapter 16
Harper went back to Colorado. I went back to school. Time flew. Next thing I knew it was summer again and I had been living in Weston for almost a year.
I was in contact with Harper from time to time. Once he sent photos of himself in his uniform. How is it I could keep falling in love with him even deeper? I thought I was already in as far as I could possibly go, but I kept finding new depths to it. Harper seemed to know exactly what to do to make me love him more. Even with John in my life, it got to where I could hardly stand being away from Harper. I couldn’t wait for summer to arrive.
Then I got the news.
I had hoped—had assumed, really—that Harper would be spending the entire summer in Roe, but he had military obligations and was taking summer courses. He would only be in town a week or two in August.
When I got that news, I wanted to cry.
Chapter 17
My life, mostly, was life with John. We did almost everything together, spent as much time together as was possible without actually living full-time in the same house. He was more than a best friend to me. He was my soul-mate, someone I could depend on without question.
I loved to make him laugh. He loved to make me laugh. Sometimes we just listened to music together, not talking, but talking with our eyes:
That was cool.
Yeah, I liked that.
Did you hear that guitar?
That was awesome.
That backing vocal is so intense.
So was that primal scream.
I feel like I’m walking through space when I listen to this band.
Such raw emotion.
Power surge!
She sounds like an angel.
He sings to us like a friend.
That lyric reminds me of you.
And I experience all this looking into your eyes, sometimes through your eyes back at me. Sometimes I see myself as you see me. Do you see yourself as I see you? Do you see how astonishing you look? Do you see the sincerity in your face?
Do you see God?
Chapter 18
Although I liked going to church more than John and Matt liked it, I didn’t like going to Wednesday evening services. There was something depressing about them, with only a fourth of the congregation present. I also hated the big bite it took out of my day. With school and church, it seemed there was no time left to do anything I wanted to do.
John and I were both fourteen now, and one Wednesday night I noticed that Matt was not in church.
“Where’s Matt?”
“He turned sixteen yesterday, remember?”
“So?”
“Oh. I thought I told you. Matt had an agreement with Dad that once he turned sixteen he only has to attend church on Sunday mornings.”
“So he’s home by himself?”
“Yeah. Lucky duck.”
“Oh.”
I guess that is what gave me the idea to ask to skip Wednesdays myself. Mom had been leaving me home by myself more and more lately, so I didn’t think she would mind. So I asked Mom if I could stop going Wednesday nights and just stay home. For some reason I was in a panic she would say no. I wanted this more than I thought I did.
She said I could.
John, when I told him, was not happy.
“Oh, Jesus!” he complained. “Now it’s really going to be miserable. No Nathan to whisper to!”
Yep. I’d done him dirty.
That first Wednesday night alone the only thing of significance I discovered was just how wonderful it is to masturbate in an empty house. I was ashamed of myself, skipping church for that, but that’s the sad truth. That’s what happened.
I also watched TV.
Chapter 19
Four or five Wednesdays into this arrangement, the thought of me alone in my house and sixteen-year-old Matthew Parker alone in his house just became too much for me. The guy intrigued me, especially now that he was sixteen. I don’t know why the thought of older boys held such sway over me, but it was true. Matt at sixteen was twice as appealing to me as Matt at fifteen.
Too, Matt was almost as handsome as his brother, and he was a world unto himself. I wanted to find a way inside that world and get him to like me. I wasn’t quite sure why. I kept telling myself if I could get Matt to like me, maybe he would like his own brother more and start showing it. But the truth is I wasn’t so much concerned about John, although Matt’s lack of love for him bothered me. I wanted to get to know Matt entirely for myself. I was tired of him treating me exactly the way he treated his brother, like I didn’t exist.
I looked down the street every Wednesday after Mom left for church to see if Matt might be outside doing something. He never was. So on this particular Wednesday, I gathered my courage and walked down the street, not knowing exactly what I was doing. It was very much like when I had jumped on my bike that day and ridden to find Harper’s house, if I could, only this time I knew exactly what door
I would be knocking on. Matt had his own room and a private entrance. It was sweet.
I gathered all my courage, brought my fist up to his door, and knocked.
I had done it, and now as I waited for whatever came next, I felt as if I was slowly sinking into the ground.
When Matt opened the door, he showed no emotion, just looked at me uncomprehendingly, like I must be making a mistake. I thought to myself, I probably am.
“Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual.
He waited a few seconds then said his own, “Hey.”
“You want to hang out?” I asked. It was totally lame, and I knew as I was saying it that he was going to look over my head to avoid looking me in the eye as he lied to me and made some excuse about being busy.
Which is exactly what happened.
I went back up the hill feeling like a complete fool. When I got to my room I beat my head on my bed repeatedly because I knew it would hurt if I beat it on a wall.
I’m just lame that way.
Chapter 20
You ever noticed how almost no one is really good? I know six people alive who are really good: my mom, Harper, John, John’s dad, John’s mom, and Harper’s mom.
There are people in the world who want to hurt people just to see them suffer. I’ve never been able to comprehend that.
“I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.”
Really ?
I like the song, but that lyric hurts me every time I hear it. On the live version it’s the line in the song that gets the most applause. Of course I’ve heard it was recorded in a prison, but still. What’s wrong with people?
What’s wrong with me ? Maybe nothing? All I know is I’ve always felt this strong sense of not belonging, and not only that, not wanting to belong. So I stayed to myself. Until I met Harper. Until I met John.
Matt, on the other hand, by just being himself, reminded me of the fact that I was weird.
Chapter 21
One Friday night, John invited me to sleep over. This was becoming more frequent, and I always said yes. I loved spending time with him in the evenings, the later the better; nights are so much more intimate. To be in his room, in a bed in his room in my underwear and John in his, just talking about whatever, was thrilling. The conversations weren’t like the ones we had in daylight. John usually had a candle burning, and we could see each other’s faces, see the tops of our chests from across the room sticking out from the covers. Arms folded behind heads revealing armpits that were still almost hairless, music on, staring at the ceiling or the candle when we weren’t looking at each other. Soft voices, not quite whispers. Just quiet, raspy, and a hint of longing for whatever it was we were looking for, which is often where the conversation went. What were we looking for? John frequently took the conversation to the latest girl he had noticed was hot, his next conquest. He had been having sex off and on for several months now; told me about it. I always just thought, “lucky girl,” but the girls did not sound too lucky, the way he used them.
I guess he got horny at night just as I did, the reason he always wanted to talk sex. Even after he knew I was gay, he wanted to talk about it. You’d think he might realize the effect it would have on me, either making me jealous or making me horny with only the two of us in the room. Looking back on it, I wonder if that wasn’t the plan. At the time, I just thought he was being obtuse.
But it wasn’t all about sex. Sometimes we tried to figure out what our futures might look like, something that would please us. Neither of us was too sure what that would be. It wouldn’t involve golf or bowling, we decided. It wouldn’t involve any superficial showy stuff. We both hated that. Lately at our school you couldn’t get through the day without someone wanting to show you their latest bling, their new expensive shoes, or their new communication device. I hated that word, bling. Stupid, stupid word. John and I were literally the only students at our school who did not carry cell phones, John because his parents couldn’t afford to pay for a phone plan, and me because I didn’t need or want one. If John didn’t have one, there was absolutely no reason for me to have one either. Just dead weight in my pocket, and I liked to travel light.
In every way. Few friends, few clothes, few possessions of any kind except for books and music. Few fears. My only fear was losing someone I loved.
For the first time since I had known John, I was apprehensive about spending the night with him this evening, and that was because the humiliating experience with his brother was still burning me. John and I had gone trail riding earlier in the afternoon. I told him I’d come over again after dinner, not before, and I took some music with me so that when I arrived I could suggest we go straight to his room to listen. We pretty much stayed there for the rest of the evening, and I didn’t run across Matt even once.
As the evening passed, we began to get sleepy and decided to go to bed, John in his, me in the bed that had once been Matt’s. John lit the candle beside his bed. We still had some music on. Shadows began to dance on the wall, almost keeping time with the music, and we began once again to talk. The conversation was aimless at first, but then John began talking about this friend he knew before I moved to town. Berry. I could tell that talking about him made John sad. I had the feeling he was holding back on me, which he usually didn’t do. Usually, we both felt like we could just think out loud with each other, although I had never talked to him about Harper. Tonight was different. The more John talked, the more forlorn he seemed. He was playing some melancholy tunes. I liked the music, but it wasn’t helping his mood. I wasn’t sure what was happening with him, and all I could do was listen. There wasn’t much for me to say.
“I’m sleepy,” John said finally, and blew out the candle.
Darkness.
The room was quiet except for John’s breathing, but I couldn’t sleep for quite a while. Knowing something was bothering John and he couldn’t tell me about it was killing me. I wanted him to tell me everything, always.
Eventually I did sleep, for how long, I’m not sure. I was awakened to a sort of whimpering, and as I returned to the world of the awake, I thought at first that someone had put a puppy in the room. More awake, I realized how absurd that first thought was, and I became aware that the noise was coming from John. I lay in bed listening to him cry softly, thinking I shouldn’t say anything or let him know I was awake, giving him his privacy.
But he didn’t stop, and I sensed that he was shaking. I’m not sure if I could hear that too, maybe a slight rattling of the bed, or if it was more a vibration coming from the room, but I was quite sure now that my friend was shaking pretty badly, still crying, and I knew I could no longer just lay there and pretend it wasn’t happening.
I got up, crossed the room, climbed in bed with him, and put my arm around him. He was facing the wall, probably because he’d hoped I wouldn’t hear him crying if he faced away from me. And I was right; he was shaking badly.
I didn’t say a word, just lay there holding him in my arms, wishing I knew what was wrong but knowing somehow that I shouldn’t ask. His shaking began to stop. He hadn’t responded to me being there at first, but as his crying subsided, he took my arm, the one draped over him, and held it close to him, pulling me closer to him in the process. I could not help the erection. It just happened, totally inappropriate and totally uncontrollable. But it didn’t seem to matter. John didn’t push me away or move away or even seem to notice. I think he had more important things on his mind.
His shaking had stopped, and eventually his crying stopped. And after a while I sensed his grip on my arm go slack, heard his breathing become heavier, and knew he was sleeping.
I returned to my bed as delicately as I could manage, not wanting to wake him. Part of me didn’t want to leave him, but I knew if I stayed there I would never sleep. Holding him in my arms was too exciting for me. With John it was always a tough enough task for me not to just scream “I love you!” and throw myself on him, but I had managed to control that impulse for a year now. Be
ing in bed with him, however, was too much. I didn’t trust myself. Better to leave him be. Besides, I did want some sleep, didn’t want to be a walking corpse the next day, wanted to have some fun with John on the bike or something.
So I got back in the other bed, snuggled myself into the sheets, loving my friend more than ever.
Chapter 22
Two Wednesday nights after I’d made a fool of myself knocking on Matt’s door, I had just undressed to begin my usual routine with my own body when I heard someone knocking on ours.
I looked through the curtain.
It was Matt.
I dressed in a panic, fearing he’d go away before I got to the door. I wasn’t sure if all my clothes were on correctly when I opened the door, I just knew I had to open it before he left.
Matt looked at me like he knew exactly what I had been doing. But what was he doing here?
“Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” I said, choking on my own thick tongue. “Come in.”
Matt walked inside and looked around. As he passed me, I noted that he was at least a foot taller than me. After taking in our living room, Matt looked over my head toward the hallway and asked, “Want to show me your room?”
“Sure,” I said.
I wasn’t sure I could even make it to my room. I had begun to shake; I couldn’t control it. Matt, on the other hand, was cool as could be. No shaking, no sweat, no strain in his voice.
“Nice room,” he said after a quick look around.
“Thanks.”
I could see now that he was staring at me, and I was afraid to look back at him. But I forced myself to look at his eyes.
“Your shirt’s on backward.”
I felt like an idiot again but didn’t say anything. I just kept staring at him.
Nathan's Story Page 4
