Chapter 6 – Chapter 6

Part Six

We talked for the next 7 hours. We laughed, sympathized, and empathized. This was more than two 18 year old boys swapping stories. It was intimate. It was love. When we stopped at a diner to eat, he sat on the same side of the booth as I did. He pressed his leg against mine under the table. I felt euphoric. I felt afraid.

When we drove back into our town, it was late and dark, I knew all there was to know about Zinger, and he knew all there was to know about me. Zinger had driven the entire way, and he was beat. He pulled into his driveway, turned the car off, and threw his head back against the seat.

"When do you leave for school?" he asked.

"August 26. You?"

"Same. So, we have about six weeks."

"For what?"

"Us."

Those two letters hung in the air. I wanted to grab them, but they were too surprising and alien. So, I watched them float, wondering if they meant more than I thought or less than I hoped. There was no "us" if all we were doing was "fucking around."

Zinger got out of the car, so I did, too. We met at the hatchback. He popped it open and grabbed his bag. I slammed it back shut.

"Okay, then," he said.

"Yes, okay then," I responded.

He threw his bag over his shoulder and pulled me to him, kissing me hard on the mouth. I kissed him back. His arms were around my shoulders, and my arms were around his waist.

When he pulled away, he said, "Great trip, dork. Call me when you wake up in the morning."

"Okay," I responded, simply and unelegantly.

I missed the next morning, sleeping well past noon. When I awoke, I could not piece the trip together. Zinger apparently had known all along that I was watching him and wanting him. When I had the chance, I took drugs with him, betraying what I thought I was, and I slept with him, revealing who I knew I was. I could not figure out what was going on. He said he did not want to be my boyfriend, but it sure felt like that's what he was, and what he wanted. I felt like a feather in a whirlwind. I also felt wide open and vulnerable. And, I hate that feeling.

My natural instinct toward self-preservation kicked in. I got up. I resisted the urge to call him, as he had directed. Instead, I went to the basement and lifted weights. When I was done, I showered and ate a light "breakfast." I had no reason to be here or there. I was hanging around. It was pouring down rain, almost sideways, the way it rains in the summer in the midwest. I laid on my bed and watched it pour through my bedroom window, dozing in and out of sleep and mindlessly thumbing through a book.

The doorbell rang. When I answered it, Zinger stood there, soaking wet.

"You didn't call."

"I forgot," I lied.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," I said, stepping aside.

We walked to my room. "We need to get you out of those wet clothes."

"I thought you'd never ask." He smiled at me. It was an "I get whatever I want" smile. He always won, and he knew it.

I tossed him a shirt and shorts. "Give me your wet clothes. I will put them in the dryer." He stripped. He picked up the shirt and shorts I had tossed him and carelessly threw them in the corner. I picked up his wet clothes and headed to the basement. When I returned to my room, Zinger was on my bed, naked, and hard. His arms were behind his head, and he was smiling broadly. He was beautiful, and I was lost.

"What took you so long?"

"Get dressed."

"Get undressed."

I locked my door and leaned against it. I was too weak to say no, but too vulnerable to say yes. I closed my eyes and sighed.

Zinger got up and moved to me. When he took my face in his hands, I opened my eyes. Whispering "hey, dork," he kissed me. I kissed him back. We kissed for some time. As we did, Zinger removed my clothes.

I needed clarity. "What is this?"

"It's us."

Those two letters again.

We moved to the bed. Our hands were all over each other. Our mouths were, too. We kissed and licked and sucked and grabbed and tugged and squeezed. We were soon inverted. We sucked each other eagerly. We were locked together, mimicking each other's movements. Our torsos rubbed together. Our hands were on each other's asses, pulling the other deeper. into our mouths. We were together, matching the other's movements. As we moved closer to the edge, we continued in lockstep. We came at the same time, each gripping the other's ass hard and sucking as hard as we could. We drank each other, trying desperately to take in as much of the other as possible.

Spent, we pulled apart. We laid head to toe. He reached his arm toward me, and my hand met his. We lay like that, our right hands intertwined. I rolled onto my right side and put my head to his left foot. He mirrored me. We were now perfectly head to toe. We licked each other's feet. We sucked each other's toes.

"Come up here," he asked.

I did as requested. When we were head to head, he pulled my face to his, and we kissed deeply. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me as close as he could. We were pressed together every where we could be. I pulled back, and looked into his crystalline eyes. He looked as deeply into mine. He kissed me again, keeping his eyes open. I kissed him back, keeping my eyes open and staring into his.

"The next time I tell you to call me, call me."

"Why? If I had, I would have missed that."

I fell asleep with my head in his chest. We were nude and happy and, his cautionary words notwithstanding, lost in each other. We were boyfriends. I knew it.