Dan's Conundrum - 20. Chapter 20

There was something incredibly exciting about my first date – I know this because it was always on my mind and my heart jumped at the thought, every time. I hadn’t looked forward to anything in a long time, and it felt strange. It felt liberating and the world was that little bit brighter. As for why exactly I felt more alive, I simply didn’t want to know: the suspense was what made it special. It was fun, not knowing exactly why I felt certain things. What made this even more special was that this was a secret. Only Rodolfo and I knew anything about it. Parents were oblivious, and so were Chris and David – they would chain and torture me if they knew. Either they would want every single detail about Rodolfo The Man and what we’d done before and afterwards, or try to be my escort and ruin the whole meeting. Nope, not giving them that chance.

So…how do people date? What do people do in dates? What does Rodolfo expect? Obviously, I had to look good, keep my hands to myself, be on my best behavior and smile a lot. There had got to be more. The expensive fragrance David gave me on my birthday could be put to use for the very first time, not wasting a drop. Three puffs on my neck and I was swooning over my own smell. Strange, isn’t it, to be loving my smell. I never had a smell until today. David finally told me last week that his smell was a combination of three fragrances, but he wouldn’t tell me which. Ah well, his smell would forever remain to be special and mysterious. One fragrance was perfect for me. Three would have killed Rodolfo outright.

Now what to wear? My wardrobe had nothing fashionable. I was never interested in clothes. But the discounted shirt Mum had given me and a pair of jeans should do. I didn’t want to go in a suit, even though I had given it some serious thought. But what if Rodolfo did? Why didn’t we confirm the dress code? Too late now. Should it matter? I was sure he wouldn’t mind as long as I was a likeable individual – theoretically speaking.

I arrived at Piccadilly Gardens a good hour before I was due. I was too restless and wanted nothing to go wrong. The statue was easy to find. There were benches nearby and so I sat there overlooking the statue and prepared some things to say, and an excuse or two if the situation had become critical. How should I greet him? What do people say in dates? How do I look? Why didn’t I bring a mirror? Damn it.

The panic didn’t end there, for I soon realised I had nothing to recognise Rodolfo by, and vice versa. Online identities were apparently psychic. But what if something went wrong and one of us couldn’t make it? That was why Second_Chance gave me his number before our meet last Sunday. Why didn’t we do the same thing? It was as much teenage inexperience as incompetence, as Rodolfo was too happy as he logged off that day and I was too relived to have managed to manipulate him and ensure today would come to pass. Surely Rodolfo would realise the same problem – but it was too late now to go home and check my messages. That said, I hardly needed a phone to locate Second_Chance and I just hoped it would be the same today, too.

I had nothing to do. I watched hundreds of people walking past and casting their shadows upon the statue, never showing interest, and wondered how I would describe it in writing. On my right was Burger King, and a little further, the food court where the four of us once ate and hung out. Good times, huh? Months ago, I was sitting at this very same place when I told David of my wretched past for the very first time. He was such an angel, always being there for me. We sat here and chatted until it was time to fetch Chris and Jenna from their shopping spree. On the small fields of grass in front I saw a couple of cute magpies, turning over dead leaves in search for juicy worms –

Isn’t that David? Yeah, that looked like him. What’s he doing here? I waved him over. It was only twenty past one – plenty of time before my date. He smiled. My heart skipped every time that he smiled, but this time it was in part because I was glad someone was here to lessen my excruciating wait. I had someone to talk to for the next forty minutes! Call it over-eagerness or paranoia, but I didn’t want to be late.

‘Hey!’ he greeted, seeming surprised to see me. He came up to me and sat on my right. ‘How’s it going?’

‘Never better. You?’

‘Not bad.’ He paused, frowning. He leaned unusually close to my neck and sniffed. ‘Isn’t that the one I bought you?’

‘Yeah, I love it,’ I told him. I wanted to give him a hug but he withdrew again.

‘And here I thought you’d never use it!’

Don’t mention the date.

‘Why not?’ I smiled. ‘I feel like trying it out today.’

‘At least you like it.’ He flashed that sexy smile of his. My heart fluttered in excitement. I wondered if Rodolfo’s smile were just as sexy. An unpleasant idea occurred to me and flashed like a danger sign – what if Rodolfo turned up and saw me with another guy? That wasn’t part of the arrangement. Would he be jealous and turn his back on me and never see me again?

On the other hand, would I look decisively below average when sitting next to the sex god that is David and Rodolfo would want him instead of me? Now that I thought about it, I wanted to get rid of David but I wasn’t sure how. I did wave him over after all. By the time it was quarter to two it was time for him to go.

‘Are you supposed to be somewhere?’ I asked sweetly, putting on an innocent face. ‘I don’t want to keep you…’

‘Nah. I don’t have to be anywhere. I’d rather talk to you.’

Damn it.

‘I asked because I know you’re a busy person.’ I tried again, whilst taking a peek at the Wellington Statue. No one.

‘Haha, well it’s alright,’ he said. ‘Not that busy. I always have time for you, mate.’

I quipped, ‘And I thought I must be the most boring individual ever.’

‘No frickin’ way.’ He grinned.

He was just so cute. Then he frowned at something in the distance before surprising me with a question. ‘Am I keeping you?’

I looked at where he was staring just a second earlier. Nothing. I turned back and saw his concerned, almost disappointed expression. How awful it would be to hurt him and tell him to leave.

‘No, no no. It’s fine.’

That mischievous glint was back in his eyes. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me,’ he teased.

‘Seriously you read me like a book now. It’s scary.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m not gonna ask. You’ll tell me when the time’s right,’ he said confidently.

‘Will I?’

‘Yeah, you will. I’m gonna bet on that, too.’

We talked on for God knew how long, and about random subjects. When I checked the time next it was already five past two. Rodolfo was late, whatever kept him. Hey, maybe my watch was fast. Some blond guy walked past a while ago and I wasn’t sure if it was him. I let the conversation drop, allowing a few seconds of silence.

I told David, ‘I have to go soon; I am supposed to be meeting someone.’

He looked at his watch. ‘Yeah, me too, so…’

Pause.

‘Have you done your English essay for Monday?’ I asked him.

‘Nope. I was hoping to do it tomorrow. Work and all, you know?’

‘I finished it yesterday,’ I said. ‘Not as easy as it looked.’

‘So organised.’ He grinned at me. I managed to smile back.

‘Yeah, we have afterschool drama rehearsals now too,’ he confessed. ‘Difficult to get round to everything.’

‘Of what? The play?’

‘Yup. Not that I’m complaining. Arthur Miller wrote a great play,’ he said. ‘Wanna see it?’

‘When is it?’

He told me.

‘Okay, I’ll go. Jenna’s in it too, right?’

He nodded.

‘Does it make it awkward, that you two are both in it?’

‘A little.’ He smiled. ‘But we’re alright now.’

This never ceased to fascinate me, how people get together so fast, so quickly, break up, and then feel nothing and back to normal. Such remarkable recovery.

Another pause.

‘So…who are you meeting?’ he asked curiously.

‘A friend.’

‘Oh? Do I know this person?’

‘I don’t think so. He’s not from college.’

‘Okay.’ He looked around for a little while, perhaps searching for this ‘friend’ for me. ‘Great that you have friends outside college,’ he said. ‘The more friends the merrier.’

Was there a slight hint of jealousy in his tone, or was I imagining it?

But I said anyway, ‘You’re still my best friend, you know that, right?’

His lips curled into a smile before patting me on the back. ‘Hey, I’m just really happy for you.’

Okay, so I got it wrong. Big deal. Still no sign of Rodolfo anywhere, which was frustrating. It was quarter past two! He was fifteen minutes late!

‘So who are you meeting then?’ It was my turn to ask.

‘Nobody you know. Not from college either.’

‘I know! Your new girlfriend!’

He shook his head and chuckled. ‘Nah. He’s a guy… I hope.’

‘So you don’t know if he’s a guy or gal?’ I found myself laughing, but stopped when he scowled at me. He didn’t find that funny.

‘I’m pretty sure he is a guy,’ he said again.

‘Who is he? Tell me about him.’

‘Not telling.’

‘But you will tell me, right?’

‘Nope.’

‘Aww come on!’ I begged him. ‘I keep telling you stuff and you never told me any.’

He sighed. Resigned and defeated by my persistence, he told me, ‘Well, he’s a writer. He writes stories on the internet.’

I kept a thought to myself, contemplating an idea. ‘Well that’s not saying much. I suppose anyone can.’

‘But his stories speak to me,’ he said simply. ‘Sometimes I felt like I know him, yet I don’t.’

‘So…you wanted to meet this guy…?’

‘Yeah. Just curious. Wanna know what he’s like in person.’

He told me about G.A.. Gay Authors, a site he stumbled across one day by accident and I should check out the stories by some guy called Byron. Then I should check out Second_Chance and Evanesce too, for they’re very good also.

‘These are my favourites. Maybe you’ll like them.’

‘Oh so you’re meeting that guy?’ I gasped, feigning excitement. ‘I know him.’

‘You do?’ He looked at me, amazed.

‘Yeah. I knew all his stories off by heart.’

‘Wow. So you took my advice and checked out some writing sites then?’

‘Yeah.’ I paused. ‘Though why you would be on that site eludes me.’

‘I read anything.’ He shrugged. ‘Might as well, given two of my best friends are gay. I might understand them a bit better.’

Usually I would believe that – that he was just net surfing and was curious. But this time I didn’t believe a word.

‘Which story was your favourite?’ I asked him, smiling.

‘The first one. The writing wasn’t as well-honed but I love it. Fade to black was so cute.’

‘I like the second one best,’ I said.

‘Why? It’s so sad!’

‘Reminds me of a straight guy I can never have…then again, what a friend would do for another. You know, Byron wrote it because there was this guy in school that he thought would never like him back. He wrote it so he could move on, leaving parts of himself in a fictitious world where he could have feelings without being judged, where he could love without being known.’

‘Ah, I never knew that.’ He frowned slightly. ‘How come you know?’

I looked away uncomfortably.

‘Uh…I wrote it.’

He stared at me, dumbfounded. Something seemed to click inside him as he realised Byron must have been me all this time.

Not sure what happened next though. Neither of us said anything. We sat there looking out into space as though a discussion had ended. I half expected he’d be delighted or at least say something useful, but that never came. It wasn’t just embarrassment that was in the air – something else was at play here. The silence was suffocating and this date was hardly turning out the way I imagined. After an immeasurable amount of time he jumped to his feet, and I was immediately alarmed.

‘I can’t do this,’ he said softly.

Then he left, without so much so a wave or a goodbye.

He didn’t even look back.