Chapter 3

He steps over to my bed, picks up the shoebox and tosses it back onto his own bed. “I’m gonna forgive you this one time because I know your heart was in the right place, but I expect my best friend to respect me.”

He walks to the door, “And don’t be mad at Ken. He meant no harm. He had no idea he’d said something wrong.” He walks out and leaves me standing there alone.

A couple weeks later, it’s almost holiday break. Over sandwiches (that he still doesn’t know I actually pay for), I say, “You told me before to talk to you about things, so I have something to talk to you about.”

He takes a sip of soda.

“You have to do the same, though. This best friend thing works both ways.”

“Okay,” he sounds unsure.

“You never talk about your family, and that’s fine, but I honestly don’t know if they even exist. I want you to know that you can talk to me about real stuff. I’m good for more than just losing in Mario Kart.”

He eyes me over the top of his sandwich, “They exist but I no longer have contact with them.”

He pauses and I just wait him out.

“When I turned eighteen, I went to my parents and told them who I really am. Turns out that they don’t care for the real me.” He shrugs, “Since I’m the middle of seven kids, they have six other chances. They probably don’t even remember me.”

How can anyone who’s ever met Alfie forget Alfie? “Can I ask what you told them?”

He hesitates before finally saying, “Something that took years to work myself up to say. Something I’ve said to no one since. Something that I’ve tried to not think much about in the year and a half after.”

“But it’s who you are?”

Another pause, “I probably phrased that wrong. People aren’t just one thing.” His brown eyes connect with mine through his dark tangles of hair. “You know the real me.”

I know what he shows me, which is both a lot and not enough at the same time. I have seen him happy and sad and everything in between. This is the first time he’s said anything about his family and I get the feeling he’s done for now. Which is fine. It’s a start. I also know he’s a great friend. And like me, at least for the three semesters I’ve known him, he has no one who might be more than a friend. Maybe he doesn’t date because he can’t afford to. He is embarrassed by his financial situation and his closest friends know to not make an issue of it. Of course, that doesn’t explain why I don’t date. Anyway, as much as he thinks I know him, I want to know him better.

I swallow, “Alfie, it’s almost winter break. Campus completely closes around Christmas for a few days. What will you do?”

“I’m afraid that last year you spent some very cold nights living in your car. Now I know you are proud and brave and self-sufficient and inspiring and you are your own hero. Honestly, you’re a hero to me too. I am not trying to save you; I know you’ll survive just fine, but you know what? Living takes a community. Your community includes classes, labs, professors, jobs and friends. Friends who care. Friends can be selfish. I selfishly want you to come spend winter break with me.”

He sets his last bite of sandwich down, slides on his glasses (that he only wears while working in the library) and pushes his chair six inches back from the table. I figure he’s either about to stand up and walk away without a word or jump up and run away screaming. But he surprises me when he crosses one leg over the other and asks, “How exactly would this work?” He nudges his glasses higher up his nose and I feel a tingle roll through my body.

I clear my throat, “This is where I’m selfish. My parents are great, but all that time with just the three of us is a lot. Too much. My house has a guest bedroom that never gets used. We don’t have to go for the whole three weeks. We can stay here until we’re kicked out so you won’t miss any work shifts. We can come back as soon as the dorms reopen.”

He makes a face, “It’s Christmas. The holidays. I can’t barge in on family time.”

“Over Thanksgiving, my parents were asking me all about school, friends and my roommate. I told them

He makes another face.

“No, not about your family or about money. I told them about you. I told them about my best friend, Alfie. They already feel like they know you. They want to meet you. They invited you to come home with me for a visit. When I mentioned that it was going to tough for you to make home for the holidays this year, they actually insisted that I bring you home with me. It would make them happy.”

He mists up over that. It breaks my heart a little that he’s surprised to be wanted.

He says, “I’ve never met them but I can already tell the family resemblance. You get your sweet generosity from them.”

“The train ride doesn’t cost much,” I add. “My parents already bought the tickets. I mean… I didn’t presume… They just offered… Don’t be mad.”

“Mad? At you?” He smiles, “I was mad at you once ever and it lasted for all of five seconds.” He pops the last bite of his sandwich in his mouth, “The train tickets are part of the invitation. I understand.” He crumples his sandwich wrapper. “And I accept. A community, right? And while I wouldn’t be looking forward to sleeping in my cold car, that’s not why I accepted. I would have accepted your invitation over a free trip to Hawaii. I accepted because my best friend asked me.”

He was right when he told me that I just needed to talk to him. I asked and he said yes. We both stand and for the first time ever, he hugs me.

It’s the last day that the dorms are open and most of the student body has already cleared out. We’re set to leave this afternoon. I’m in the gym with Ken and Gus getting in a good last workout and I actually have no idea where Alfie is. Gus and I are side by side finishing up our sets while Ken flexes and poses for himself in front of the mirrors. That is so very Ken of him. He keeps lifting his shirt and checking out his abs too.

Gus says, “Just look at him. He should just date himself. That’s the only thing that might put an end to his streak of break ups.”

“He does seem to have a new girlfriend every week, doesn’t he?” I ask. “Why is that?”

“Because he finds himself to be prettier than any of them.”

“And because he wants to show off his dick to the whole campus.” We both chuckle.

Ken shouts over his shoulder, “Where’s Alf?”

“Not sure,” I shout back. “This isn’t really his scene.”

Gus says, “He uses the treadmills sometimes.”

“He didn’t say where he was going.”

“I just had the best idea.” Ken is excited. “You know how our man always wins at Strip Mario Kart?”

“Thanks again, Ken, for bringing the ‘strip’ part into our lives,” Gus deadpans.

“But he doesn’t just win, he’s never even has to take off a stinking shoe.”

Ken grins, “Lets get him to play strip weightlifting. We’ll have him naked within minutes.”

I look at Gus and let him take this one, “Ken, you’re a moron.”

Ken shrugs and goes back to posing in the mirror.

Gus asks me, “So this is your parents’ first time meeting Alf?”

“Mmm hmm,” I reply while taking a swig from my water bottle. “Why?”

“Are you…” he trails off.

“How are you introducing him?”

I wipe my brow with my towel. “Like Alfie, Alf or Alfonso? I guess whatever he wants them to call him is fine, but he’s always Alfie to me.”

“No,” Gus scratches his head. “I mean, like who is he to you?”

I count off on my fingers, “My best friend. The guy who saved me from failing multiple classes, lets me borrow his car on Saturday’s so I can get to work, drops me off at the train station whenever I visit home…” I raise an eyebrow, “What are you getting at?”

“It just seems like… You two just are so… Never mind. It’s none of my business.”

“Gus, just say what you want to say.”

“Yeah, I’m the moron!” It’s Ken’s voice startling me from behind. He grabs my shoulders and spins me around. “What my man Gus here is fantastically failing to say is that you are taking your boyfriend home to meet your parents.”

“What?! We’re not—”

“Yes you are. It’s just that you two are the last to see it.”

My cheeks burn, “He’s my best friend.”

Gus says, “He’s more than that.”

Ken asks, “How come you never date anyone?”

“Because you’ve used up all the girls.”

Gus giggles at that, but Ken shoots him a look. “Dex, I don’t know if you like girls or boys or both or neither. I’ve strutted my stuff in front of you multiple times and you never gave me a second look.”

Ken continues, “Who gives a shit about labels anyway. I don’t think anyone is 100% anything. But wherever you land on the spectrum, there is one undeniable fact: There is someone that you already like. Your heart is taken. That’s why you don’t date anyone.”

Gus says, “He’s not wrong.”

Ken squeezes my shoulders, “Dex, close your eyes.”

I hesitate, then do what he says.

Okay. My eyes are still closed and there’s Alfie. His mop of wild brown tangles, his big brown eyes, his smooth olive skin, his oversized, overused hoodie that he swims in, his big feet on his modest frame and his smile. I find that my toes curl in my sneakers and my penis is coming to life.

Ken asks, “You’ve got him in mind?”

I keep my eyes closed and nod.

“Good. Now tell us – What do you feel?”

What do I feel? My heart is racing, my face is flushing, my chest is warm, my whole body tingles…

I say, “I gotta go.”

An hour later, I’m in our room and Alfie finally walks in.

“Where’ve you been all day?” I ask.

He pulls a foil wrapped dish out from behind his back and hands it to me. It’s warm in my hands. I fold back a corner and I’m hit with a delicious aroma. “What is it?”

“Mexican cornbread,” he says. “It’s a family recipe. One of the few things from my family that I value.”

“You know, baking is chemistry. I’m a science guy. Don’t be so surprised.”

“In the dining hall kitchen.”

“It closed for break last night.”

“You know Tommy who works in the dining hall?”

I’m not sure that I do but I say, “Yeah.”

He says, “I tutored him in calculus so he owed me one. He let me use the facilities. It’s for your parents. Do you think they’ll like it?”

I look him up and down. In his hoodie, a pair of sweatpants that I gave him because I told him they shrunk, his old beat up sneakers because he was working in the kitchen… What’s not to like? “They’re gonna love it,” I say. “How long does it last?”

He shrugs, “A week. Why?”

I set the dish down on my desk and lead Alfie to my bed and we sit. “Because we’re not leaving tonight. We’re going in the morning.”

“Why? Don’t they kick us out tonight?”

I shake my head, “I talked to Mickey, the RA. He said as long as we’re out by noon tomorrow, we can stay the night.”

“Everyone else is leaving or already gone. What’s going on?”

“We need to talk. And not on the train or in my parent’s house. We need to talk alone.”

“But Dex… We have train tickets for this afternoon.”

“I called and exchanged them for a departure tomorrow.”

“The dining hall is closed.”