That Feeling - 7. Day Off

You see, life sucks most of the time. You try and you try and you can never know which way is up. Are you in the right or are you terribly mistaken? Are you the problem or is everyone else? This whole shitload of feelings has really got me thinking like this. Am I the problem? Part of me says yes, of course I am. Because I could be so much better. I could do so much more to fix things that I’m just not doing. Everything is my fault and it’s up to me to fix it. But maybe not, maybe everything about me is how it’s supposed to be and it’s everyone else’s problem to not see it. I’m just tired of feeling wrong when I don’t think I’ve ever felt right. What if the wrong isn’t as wrong as I think? What if everyone feels this way and they all pretend to be fine when they’re really not? That makes me sad, because then what even would the point be. Some people would probably say I’m not accepting responsibility for my own problems or that I’m blaming everyone else. And maybe I am, but I don’t care anymore, because I’m inadequate and that’s that. I’m inadequate and maybe the whole world knows and that sucks but there is nothing I can even do about it now.

My alarm didn’t go off this morning. Well, since I use my phone as my alarm, my phone didn’t go off this morning. Actually, my phone was completely missing this morning, which didn’t bother me so much at the time. So now it is eleven o’clock and I am sitting at the breakfast bar wearing only the boxers I slept in, eating a bowl of Fruit Loops. My phone was sitting on the breakfast bar when I came down this morning, next to a note written in my mother’s loopy cursive: “You need a day. Enjoy!” What does that even mean? You need a day. I need more than a day, I need an entire lifetime. Because to be alone and solitary and happy makes me feel something. Not having to put on a face makes me feel like I’m free. Which is why I think that my problems might really be other people’s problems, because I am fine by myself, even if there is that tiny nagging feeling deep inside that says everything is not okay, not yet. It’s everyone else that causes that trouble, though. So I am glad I could escape at least for the day. I don’t want to face Avery or Carson or Knox. I want to lay in bed and not think of anything. Or maybe read a depressing poetry. Or watch mindless television. I don’t know. But my mom is right, I do need a day. A day free of all the shit that’s been accumulating around me.

But then there’s one problem: today’s Friday. Carson and Joey’s party is tonight and I told Avery and Knox I’d drive them. I also told Jake I’d be there. Which right now feels pretty dumb because the last thing I want to do is go to a party and pretend like I’m having fun when all I want to do is be at home, in bed, wasting away. I don’t want to take a shower and put on real clothes and fake smiles. I don’t feel up to the loud music that makes my heart beat too fast or the drunk girls flashing their breasts and offering blow jobs or the small talk with a Lakeside football player who plowed me down last week. I don’t want to go to Avery’s house and pick her and Knox up and pretend like everything’s fine. I don’t want to be greeted by Carson with a kiss on the cheek or have Joey try to force alcohol down my throat when he knows I won’t drink it willingly. I just don’t want any of that.

So after the cereal, I find my way back into my bed. I glance at my bookshelf, but nothing seems interesting today. Not even Plath, which usually makes me feel better in a depressing kind of way. My computer is laying on the floor, but even that seems like too much work. I burrow myself under the covers. I wonder if Cassie has any drugs. I know she smokes weed sometimes with her friends. I’ve never actually smoked anything, but I feel like maybe I should, just to make everything disappear into a cloud of smoke. But then I think about Adam. I wonder where he is right now. I imagine he’s in a rundown apartment on the wrong side of town. The wallpaper is peeling off and he’s laying on the floor in a heap of what used to be sheets, but are now more like rags. He’s blacked out. I shut my eyes tighter because the soft brown hair and chubby red cheeks I remember from childhood have been replaced by the sallow, sunken cheeks of one who has lost himself in an abyss. His hair is colorless and limp and greasy. It makes me want to cry because I have to be strong if only for him. If only to prove I am not him. And there’s the problem, I think. I am always trying to prove something. That I’m not like Adam. That I’m a good son. That I’m not a faggot. That I have a girlfriend who I love. That I’m fine. That I’m happy. That I’m normal. But it’s not working. I’ve lost myself in the proof. Because maybe if I didn’t try so hard, I could be all those things.

But I have tried too hard and now I’m nothing but a loser laid up in bed because he can’t even face the reality he made for himself. I am gay and I hate myself. I am worse than Adam or Cassie or anyone, because I am a lie. No one can love me because they can’t even know me. Who even am I? I eventually doze off. In dreams, I am perfect. My teeth shine bright white and my hair is golden. I am wearing only my sneakers. I am walking down the street and everyone is looking and smiling. I am proud of my nakedness. Everyone wants a part of me. Our next-door neighbor Dr. Gupta runs his hands down my bare chest and faints. Hank DeVore, an eleven-year-old boy down the road, tells me I’m his hero. At the end of the road is Knox. Jake and Joey stand beside him. They’re all naked. They walk up to me and start to lick my body. I close my eyes and it’s pure pleasure. But then I’m awake. I have a boner that I start to stroke up and down, up and down, the images of my dream keeping me company. I eventually come and I remember the mess that always comes after the pleasure. The only thing close is the sheet. I wipe my hand on it. The semen streaks the satiny blue and I cringe. I am tired of sex and anything to do with it. The clock says it’s one-thirty. I don’t want to get out of bed. If Cassie comes straight home from school, she’ll be home in like an hour and a half. I want to see her, because maybe she can make everything okay. it feels like everything has been slipping since I last talked to her. Maybe she can make it better.

I watch TV until two-thirty and then go downstairs. No one is home. My mom must have a job today because she usually isn’t gone this long. I search for food and make myself a sandwich. I feel like none of this is real. Like I’m in a movie and people are in the audience watching this, waiting for something suspenseful to happen. I’m still shirtless, so girls might be googling over me. Maybe there are a few gay guys in the audience who are falling for me and my pathetic existence, so I wink and pull the waistband of my shorts down a few inches to show my tan line, although it’s barely perceptible this time of year. Their hearts would probably beat faster if they were real. But I am dumb and no one would want to see me. I’m not cute or anything. Definitely not hot enough to make someone want me.

At a little before three, Cassie comes home. She turns the corner and stops as she sees me in Mom’s chair, in my underwear, stuffing my face with potato chips.

“I i’en ‘o ta ‘koo’ ‘oo-’ay.” My mouth is full and it comes out weird.

“What?”

I swallow and try again. “I didn’t go to school today.”

She is standing at the refrigerator, rummaging through the contents. “I know. You usually drive me, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Mom took me. Said you needed ‘a day off’. Was yesterday really that bad?”

“Not any worse than any other day.”

She had made her way over to the chair and sat on the arm like I had last night. She reached over and picked up a chip off of my chest and popped it into her mouth.

“She asked if I knew what was wrong with you.”

“What did you say?”

“I said that you’re mentally unstable and need to be hospitalized.” She looked at me and smiled.

“You’re a bitch, sometimes, you know.”

“I know. But apparently whatever happened yesterday has your friends going apeshit.”

“What?”

She counted off on her fingers as she explained, “First, Avery stopped me in the hall today and asked where you were. I told her you weren’t feeling well. She looked pissed and ran off. Second, Carson walked me to fifth period, explaining that we both know what’s wrong with you and that we have to figure out how to fix it, though, she never mentioned what she thought the problem was. I saw Avery and Knox after school in a very intense discussion about something. And so I think whatever you’ve done, you need to fix.”

“It isn’t that easy, Cass.”

“Nothing’s easy, Caleb.”

“Yes. Laying in bed is easy. Hell, making lasagna is easier than that. Fixing this problem means...changing...everything.”

“You’re such a drama queen, gay boy. Tell people the truth and let the chips fall where they may. That’s all you can do.”

“But it’s not just that, everyone else-”

“Screw everyone else and do what’s best for Caleb.” She got up and disappeared into the house. I continued eating chips. Maybe I dozed off. I’m not sure, but now the doorbell is ringing and I’m getting up to answer it. My feet are moving and I’m walking down the hall, but I don’t want to. I don’t want to open the door and see someone there. I want to turn around and go up the stairs and fall into bed. I open the door.

“Dude! We need to talk.” It’s Jake and he comes into my house. He doesn’t even ask, just comes in. I’m standing in only my underwear, and even though we’ve showered together a million times in the locker room, I feel naked. I remember the dream earlier where his tongue licked over my chest. I don’t want him here.

“Um, what?” He’s already up the stairs. I follow slowly and go into my room. He’s sitting on my bed, waiting on me. My eye rests on the spot I’d wiped the semen. It’s dangerously close to his butt.

“Shit’s craaaazy, man. Avery is flippin’ out. Sara wants to kill you. Carson, who knows what the hell Carson is talkin’ about. She’s tryin’ to keep everyone calm and throw the party. So what the hell happened yesterday anyway?”

“What do you mean?”

“At lunch? Avery and Carson. You. Knox. Ring any bells?”

“I had forgotten I was supposed to hang out with Knox.”

“But you don’t ever hang out with Knox. Which I realized after I left the table.”

“We’re working on...things.”

“Well, Avery is pissed about whatever the hell it is. And that you haven’t talked to her. She says you’re ignoring her.”

“Ugh. That’s the last thing I need right now.”

“What’s up, dude? You can tell me. We’re bros. Right?”

My heart beats a little faster. He’s giving me the puppy dog look. I have to tell him something, because fine won’t work anymore. Nothing’s fine and everyone can obviously see it. “I like someone else.”

“Who?”

“I can’t say right now. It’s...complicated.”

“Well uncomplicate it!”

“I can’t, Jake. I just can’t, okay!”

“Okay, okay, sorry. So, are you gonna break up with Avery?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Dude, you just said you like someone else.”

“It’s not that easy.”

“I’m getting tired of this ‘Oh, everything is so hard for me’ bullshit, Caleb. If you don’t wanna talk to me, fine. But listen, people are worried about you. Hell, I’m worried about you. Just know, I’m here, okay?”

“Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

“Anyways, you need a shower before the party tonight. You have chips all over your chest and you smell like jizz.”

Shit. I’m going to ignore that. “I’m not going to the party.”

“Yes. You are.”

“No. I’m not. And I’m definitely not driving Avery and Knox.”

“No. You’re not doing that. I’ve worked that out. You’re coming with me. Actually, you’re driving me. I need to get drunk.” He lays back on my bed and crosses one leg over his raised knee. The semen is somewhere under his back. It makes me want to laugh. “Proceed.”

Jake is a jerk. Jake is a low-down, asshole jerk. I hope the semen stains his shirt. I hope he realizes it and leaves without me. This is all I can think about as I shower. But I don’t really hate Jake. I hate that he can cut through my bullshit and that I let him. I hate that I’m in the shower because he told me to be here. I don’t want to go to the party because it means facing a bunch of shit I don’t want to even look at. Because now everything is a problem and I just want to hide from it. I don’t want to face it.

After the shower, I walk into my room with a pair of boxer-briefs and an undershirt on. I feel naked, but I ignore it. Jake is looking at me. I rummage through my closet, picking out a pair of jeans and an aqua button down.

“Can I stay here tonight?”

“Um, I don’t know. I have to ask my parents.” I don’t want him to stay. I want to be alone after the party. I put the shirt on.

“It’s just, I am planning on drinking and my parents are nosy about that kind of shit, y’know.”

He’s still watching me. I feel uncomfortable. “You could probably stay in Adam’s room.”

“Yeah.” He looks away and twists his hands around each other.

I slip my jeans on and go back into the bathroom. The blowdryer is warm against my skin as I blow my hair. I close my eyes and pretend I’m on the beach. The sun is warm and the wind is blowing my hair. It makes me feel happy. I smile. I open my eyes and Jake is sitting on the toilet lid. He’s watching me. I feel like I’m on display. I turn of the hairdryer and put my hair into place. I’m ready to get everything over with. When I get back into the bedroom the clock says four-thirty. It’s too early to go the party, which means I have more time I have to be alone with Jake. He comes out of the bathroom and leans on the door frame. He’s looking around at my room. I suddenly feel nervous.

“It’s Knox, isn’t it? The person you like.”

I freeze. My heart beats fast and my vision blurs and I feel like I might burst. my back is too him now, but I can’t turn around to face him. I’m afraid of the look on his face even if the tone of his voice was only observational. But I’m not rational now. It feels like everything is falling down. My whole life is collapsing in front of me. My stomach drops, my heart drops, my whole body metaphorically just drops. But I don’t actually move. I have to say something. Too much silence means ‘yes’ and I’m not ready for ‘yes’ right now. I steel myself up; I try to build up the feelings I need to put on a face. But I can’t, it’s too hard; I’m sinking.

“What?” But it croaks out and I feel like my throat is separate from myself. And now my arms and my legs and my entire body is separating and floating somewhere near the ceiling. I still can’t turn around.

“The other person you like is Knox. Carson said something like that yesterday, but I didn’t believe it because you’re with Avery. You’ve always been with her. But now you said there’s someone else. And Carson said it was all so obvious if you put it together. And she’s right. I just didn’t want to see it.”

It’s like he’s explaining it all to himself and that’s it. That’s the final verdict and I can’t hold back the tears anymore. They stream out and I’m making gulping noises and I have to sit on the bed. I can’t look at him so I cover my eyes. All the feelings are rushing in faster than they ever have before and I can’t sort through them. I can’t put them in their place and the tears keep coming. I’m trying to put everything in place. I’m trying to understand but it doesn’t make sense. Because Jake’s figured it out. Jake is in my room pointing at the truth and I’m hiding behind tears and hands and lies. He and Carson and God knows who else figured it out. Everything I’ve done is useless. All the pretending and hiding and forcing the dead feeling was a waste. It hadn’t worked, isn’t working, won’t work anymore. I failed. Was it even possible to hide at all? Can anyone hide themselves from the truth? The truth hides inside of us and weasels its way around like a parasite. We want it gone or buried or at least to stay still. It always hurts. But it always wants out. My truth had wormed its way out through the cracks. The world couldn’t see the facade anymore because the truth was leaking from the cracks. It felt like a million years or a nanosecond that I was sitting on the bed crying, all the feelings assaulting my brain. I didn’t know if Jake was still there or not. He’d not said anything. I wasn’t looking at him either. I couldn’t handle that, not yet.

I finally collect myself and build enough courage to look up. Jake is still leaning there, looking at me. His face looks concerned, but only slightly so. He isn’t moving, isn’t talking, just...looking. We stare at each other for a minute before he comes and sits next to me. He’s closer than I expected, his thigh touching mine.

“I was right?”

I shake my head in reply and shrug my shoulders.

“So, um, are you, like, gay?”

I look him in the eyes. He looks scared. “Yes.” It is short and cold. I feel unemotional and detached.

His face falls and his body kind of deflates, but he doesn’t move away. His closeness feels like an answer I need. “Oh.”

A few minutes pass and neither of us say a word. “Oh? Is that all you have to say?” I feel bold and angry all of a sudden. His silence gives me some unknown strength that worries me. Here it is all laid out and he’s still sitting beside me, his thigh touching mine, and this is how I act? It feels like another face. An angry face I didn’t know I had that’s taken over and just wants to crush Jake. It wants him to hate me.

“Whadya want me to say, Caleb? I just found out my best friend is gay!”

“I don’t know! Yell at me! Hit me! Call me names! Isn’t this fucked up? Doesn’t it make you mad to have a faggot for a friend?”

His face contorts and he moves away. “What the hell, dude? You’re crazy!”

“Yeah, that’s me! Psycho fag. Just say it! Say that I’m a faggot, queer loser. Just say you hate me. ” My mind is swimming. It feels like wrecking. Like you see yourself about to die, but there is nothing you can do to stop it. You just watch the world spin around you.

He sits up straight and looks me in the eyes. “No. And you shouldn’t either, Caleb. If you’re gay, you’re gay, not much we can do about it, huh. But don’t talk like that. I don’t wanna hear you say that.” He looks at me, but not at my eyes. I’m breathing heavily. He moves close again. I tense. He places his hand on my thigh. My heart starts beating. “I don’t hate you. You’re special Caleb. ”

I see it happening. I see him lean forward. I see his face in front of mine. I feel his lips touch mine. Lightly at first, but then with force. His tongue wants in. But I don’t believe it. My mind knows it is happening but my body doesn’t believe it. Jake is kissing me. I don’t believe it, though. My body is stiff. I relax and let him in. I feel his hands snake around my face. He is kissing me, his tongue darting into my mouth. I fight back with mine. I feel weak. I don’t believe this is happening. I moan and he kisses me harder. His hands are in my hair rubbing my scalp. I fall back onto the bed. He’s beside me, on top of me, his hands are places I didn’t know existed. I’m confused. Everything feels so good. My hands roam his body. First his stomach and then around to the small of his back. His skin is soft. I am happy. I am confused. This is Jake. Jake is on top of me. Jake is kissing me. Jake is running his hands up my shirt and rubbing my chest. I am touching Jake’s skin. My hard-on is rubbing against Jake’s leg. The cycle keeps repeating until I lose track of time. And this is real. This isn’t a fantasy. This is too confusing. I push him off me and sit up. I’m breathing heavily. My head is swimming and I can’t get it to stop. Jake and I just made out. I made out with Jake. Jake made out with me. Jake was on top of me. I kissed a guy. I made out with a guy. I really liked it.These thoughts are too bizarre to process. I glance over at Jake. He’s laying face down, his head in his hands. He isn’t moving except for the slow up and down of his heavy breathing.

After a few seconds, he bolts up. I can’t see his face. “I’ll be in the Jeep waiting on you.” He says it fast. His voice sounds neutral and I’m still confused.

What the hell just happened? It feels like a fantasy. I can’t believe it was real. Maybe it didn’t happen. Maybe after I came out to Jake, he left in anger. Maybe he never came over at all. Maybe I fell asleep and that was all a dream. Except I know it wasn’t. Jake and I kissed. Jake Holley kissed me. I’m looking in the mirror in the bathroom washing my face as the realization finally hits me. I smile. Jake kissed me. But the smile quickly fades because what does that mean? Is Jake gay? Was it a mistake? Are we even friends anymore? Will he hate me because maybe he felt like he had too? That’s dumb, but I think it. Because I can’t explain any of it. Because Jake kissed me. I didn’t ask him to. I didn’t even say I wanted to. He just did. And more than just kissed. We made out. He touched me. He rubbed his hands up my body and we moaned. I don’t understand. I can’t understand. I’m so wrapped up in me all the time I can’t even understand other people. They don’t make sense to me anymore.

When I get to Jake’s Jeep, he’s sitting there, staring blankly at my house. I get into the passenger’s seat and buckle up. He starts the engine and pulls out, but doesn’t say a word. The clock says five-forty-five. The silence is awkward and I want to say something. He hasn’t even looked at me. I start to feel dirty. The memory of his hands on my body no longer feels good. It feels like someone is strangling me.

“Jake…”

“Don’t.”

But I’m feeling persistent. I hate facing the truth, but here it is. Everything feels different and I need to know. “What just happened?”

“Nothing. Nothing happened.”

“Jake…” He still isn’t looking at me. His eyes are trained on the road. His body is stiff.

“I’m not gay.”

“Okay.”

He finally looks over at me. His face is no longer stony. He looks scared. “I’m not, okay!” He sounds desperate.

“Okay, you’re not.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I do. If you say so.”

“Yeah. I’m not.”

“But we did make out.”

“Yeah.”

“You kissed me.”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

“It was a mistake. I, just...lost myself. It’ll never happen again.”

My heart falls. Because as much as I was confused, I liked it. I want it to happen again. I want to kiss Jake and know what is happening. I want to look into his eyes and see that glint that says ‘I want you’ and I want him to see it in mine. I want that know that he’s kissed me and liked it.

“Are we okay?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

“I won’t tell anyone, okay.”

“Okay.”

“Nothing happened.”

“Right.”

I turn and look out the window. We don’t talk the rest of the ride to his house.