That Feeling - 21. Bedroom Eyes

Sometimes I feel like this year has been a mistake. Maybe I’ll wake up and it will be the first day of school again and things will be simpler somehow. I’ll still be with Avery and Knox will have never happened and I can maybe face things with a different perspective. A closeted, simpler perspective. But then again, I’m glad, for the most part, how things have turned out. I’m out, whether I am ready or not. And that’s no small feat for a sixteen year old who six months ago would have probably rather been dead than have anyone, much less the entire world, know he liked boys in all the best (and sometimes worst) ways.

I’m at lunch and I have a million thoughts coursing through my head, because nothing really seems to be going my way. Because coming out was supposed to magically fix all my problems, but it seems to have only created different ones. Like how Jake promised last night he’d try harder and how today trying means he magically woke up from whatever and is 6-months-ago Jake. He isn’t ignoring me. But he’s acting like my friend. Just my friend. And while this is more than yesterday and maybe what I said I’d be okay with, it somehow isn’t. The text I got during second period also doesn’t help matters. And that’s what I’m doing at lunch, reading back over the texts, feeling my stomach drop, and praying they aren’t true.

I received the first text, from Carson, at approximately 9:35, telling me Jake just told someone in their physics class that he has a girlfriend named “Skylar” that goes to a school in Augusta. Two minutes later, another comes in from Carson, saying Jake says anything “gay” he’s ever done was because he was drunk and he doesn’t even remember. That he can’t help that he’s so hot. I texted back, wanting to know more, but Carson says that was all that was said. The cafeteria is quickly filling up, and I see Carson and Sara walking this way, talking to a girl named Claire. She hands something to Carson and walks off. I feel like something is going on. I look around for Jake, and see him goofing off with a few guys from the football team, before disappearing into the lunch line. When I finally look back, Carson and Sara are sitting down, looking at me.

“Hey.” I try to sound nonchalant, like I wasn’t just stalking Jake.

“Hey.” Sara says, sort of smiling, but I can tell she’s holding back. Carson just gives a curt smile and opens her lunch bag, taking out a container of applesauce. Something feels wrong.

“So, uh, Carson, about those texts-”

“I told you everything I know.”

“You told him?” Sara turns to Carson, her face scrunched.

“About what Jake said to Tyler Rose in 2nd period.”

“Oh, about ‘Skyler’?”

“Does everyone know about this but me?” They both look at me sympathetically and I just put my face into my hands. I feel like a joke. A big gay joke. ‘Haha, Caleb got played by Jake. Hahahaha.’ I want to barf.

“Not everyone, Caleb. I mean, people are talking, but not everyone believes Jake. It is pretty convenient he has his first girlfriend in years right after rumors about a gay relationship. Even more convenient she goes to some school in Hephzibah.” Carson sounds like she’s trying to convince herself more than me, but it helps regardless, I think. She’s right. Jake’s a liar and everyone kind of knows it. So many people know about Jake’s shit. He’s living in a glass closet.

After a few minutes of silence, Jake sit down next to me. He smiles at me, toothy and altogether goofy and I find myself smiling back. Carson and Sara watch, but don’t say anything.

“Sara, Carson, greetings,” he says, with a short wave. Carson just smiles sweetly, while Sara gives him a pointed look. “Okay then. Good to see you, too. Carson, can you believe that project for Ms. Wipperstein? Y’all, she wants us to make, like, an actual battery or some shit. I might have to get Mary Fuller to help, because Jesus Christ, y’all know I suck at physics.”

Carson swirls her fork around her arugula salad. “Yeah, it’s a stumper.”

Jake smiles nervously. “Sara, Tony Rogillio said you guys are going out this weekend? That’s cool.”

“Yeah, Tony’s a cool guy.” She doesn’t even look at him as she pops a pear slice into her mouth. She’s looking at me, daring me.

“So, Jake, uh, um, what are you doing this weekend?”

He looks around nervously, everywhere but at me. “Uh, well, I don’t know. Just… whatever, I guess.”

Carson looks up. “A trip to Hephzibah, maybe? I hear Southside girls are real sluts.”

I want to punch her. “Carson!”

Jake looks confused. “What?”

I quickly try to save it. “Nothing, she’s just joking. Haha. No one goes to Hephzibah. Haha. Does anyone even know people from the Southside? Haha. Nothing but poor people and rednecks there, right?”

“I fucked a guy from the Southside once. He didn’t use a condom and I was afraid I’d get pregnant and have some kind of fucked up Tobacco Road baby. We might have actually fucked in the parking lot of a gas station on the actual Tobacco Road, which would have been really poetic, in a way, I guess. Anyways, it was obviously a false alarm.” We all look at Sara and she just pops another apple slice in her mouth. “He was a great fuck.”

But Carson doesn’t back down. “Whatever, Sara,” and turning her head to Jake, “I was thinking more along the lines of a Skylar.”

Jake face contorts for a second, then smiles, “I have a cousin named Skylar; she’s two.”

I can tell he doesn’t like this conversation. I am torn. Part of me wants to get everything out, to uncover all the secrets and hash out all the minute details and maybe lose him. But another part, maybe a bigger part, wants to protect him. To hold him and tell him it’s okay, I don’t care if he lies to everyone else as long as he’s honest with me. As long as I can kiss him and know that is the truth. And maybe that makes me stupid, but maybe I am stupid.

“You know what I’m talking about, Jake. Skylar, from Hephzibah, your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, what about her?”

“So, it’s true? She’s your girlfriend?”

He looks at me nervously, and my heart drops. “Yeah.”

Sara is glaring at him and Carson is sitting up ramrod straight. “What about Caleb?”

“What about him?” He isn’t looking at me. “I don’t think he has anything to do with this.” My heart is beating fast and I want to run away. But I won’t. I want to protect him, so I place my hand on his leg, near his knee, and gently rub. I just want to let him know that it’s okay. I get why he’s lying and I’m not angry.

But he looks at me, his face contorted in anger, like he might murder me. He brushes my hand away, and though it’s only a few seconds, it feels like days as I look into that face, before he pushes me, hard, and I fall off my seat onto the floor. “Don’t ever touch me again, you fucking faggot!”

It happens so fast and I’m on the floor and while I’m not hurt, except my hip a little from the impact with the hard tile, my emotions are shot. My head is spinning and I feel like I’m having trouble breathing. Somewhere in the distance I hear Sara yell what sounds like ‘punk ass bitch,’ along with more expletives. I can hear Carson say something, but I have my eyes shut and my hearing is warped. Maybe if I lie here long enough, I’ll disappear. I know people are staring at us. There is no way people didn’t hear Jake, or see him push me. Everyone will be talking about it. And I want to just disappear. Sink into the floor and disappear.

I feel someone kneeling and pulling on my arm. I open my eyes and I see Jake’s face. He looks upset. For a second, I’m happy. But only for a second, until I remember what he did. “Caleb, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean - I - I - I’m so sorry.”

I pull away quickly, and get to my feet. I feel dizzy for a moment, and look around. Half the cafeteria is looking at us. I should stay, face this head on. Tell Jake to take his apology and fuck it. Tell everyone who’ll listen Jake Holley is a messed up closet case who doesn’t deserve anyone’s time. Instead, I turn and walk to the bathroom. I don’t run, just walk with the weight of where my life has led me. I have to be the most fucked up kid ever. I just want it to be over.

In the bathroom, I go to the last stall, even though the latch is broken. I sit on the toilet with my feet against the door, keeping it shut. I try not to cry, but the tears come out anyway. I’m pathetic. That’s the only explanation. Either that, or God has a vendetta against me. I hear someone call out my name. I don’t say anything. It has to be Sara or Carson. They hear me in the last stall and softly knock.

“Caleb, it’s Sara. Let me in.” I resist at first, but take my feet off the door. It squeaks as she pushes it in.

“The boys bathroom reeks.” She slides down onto the floor, her back against the wall. She rummages around in her purse and pulls out a joint and a lighter. She lights it and takes a drag.

“Aren’t you afraid the alarm will go off?”

“It won’t.” She takes another drag and offers it to me.

“I shouldn’t.”

“We shouldn’t do a lot.”

What the fuck. I take the joint and inhale the smoke deeply. It burns and I want to cough. It isn’t the first time I’ve ever smoked pot, but it is the first time in years. I blow it out in little puffs. I take another hit and feel a bit light headed. I hand it back.

“Carson took Jake outside. God knows what she’ll do to him.” Sara chuckles, then takes another drag.

I smile. “Hopefully cut his dick off.”

Sara giggles. “That would ruin his life.”

“Why am I such a fuck up?”

“You’re not a fuck up. That’s just life. Look at me. I’m the school slut. My dad thinks I’m an innocent little virgin. Do you know last week I sucked off a guy during Mass? He came on my Marc Jacobs blouse and it stained. Talk about divine retribution.”

I giggle as I take another hit. “I feel so stupid for liking Jake. He’s an asshole and if he came in here right now and gave me that look I’d probably forget all about what he’s done.”

Sara studies the joint. “You’re too good for Jake, Caleb. I don’t think Jake will ever change.”

I look away, my head cloudy. “I think I know that. But part of me doesn’t want to think about it. I just want to be happy.”

“Don’t we all.” She throws the remainder of the joint into the toilet, “You wanna leave? Go to my house and drink some of my dad’s rum?”

I smile. “Sure.”

---

Later that afternoon, Sara’s older sister takes me back to my car in the parking lot. The school is almost empty, except for Clark and someone I don’t know talking near his car. When the stranger leaves, Clark looks up and sees me standing there. He gives a wave and starts to walk over.

“Caleb!”

I smile. “Hey Clark.”

“What’s up?”

“Oh, nothing. Just going home, I guess.”

“I heard about what happened in the cafeteria today, with Jake.”

“Oh, yeah.” I look away. I’m embarrassed that I’ve let Jake get to me so badly, but I can’t run away from my problems anymore. I did that all afternoon.

“Hey, do you wanna do something? Go get crappy mall food and rate guys as they walk by?”

I think about it. I’ve spent all afternoon with Sara and I feel better than I have in a while, even if it is partly due to marijuana and alcohol. I know I don’t need to run from my problems, but I can surely avoid them for a bit longer. “Sure. Sounds like a good time. I’m gonna drive home, meet me there?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Clark follows me home and we ride to the mall together, listening to Katy Perry and singing at the top of our lungs. I smile at Clark and he smiles back. This feels easier than anything else, Clark doesn’t expect anything from me and I like that. I look at his hair blowing in the cold air and wonder why we can’t force feelings. Why can’t Clark and I be together? Easy and free and happy. But feelings don’t work like that, I guess. They sneak up and attack and we never even see them as they rip our throats out. That’s what’s happening with Jake. The feelings laid dormant for years, just under the surface, then at the first chance of success, they pounced. But it was too soon, too fast, too new, and it ripped the wrong artery and mauled the best parts while everyone else just watched.

At the mall, we walk around for a while, just watching people as we sip on smoothies and giggle occasionally. Clark sees people he knows often, and I realize he knows more people than I ever will. I guy in a leather jacket and gauged ears walks with us for a while, talking to Clark about an art club he’s a part of. I can tell the guy likes Clark, and it makes me smile that he completely ignores me. He probably thinks I’m a threat.

We’d been there for an hour when I get a phone call. I fish my phone out of my pocket and it’s Jake. I sigh and Clark looks at me expectantly.

“It’s Jake.” I answer it before he says anything. “Hello.”

“Hey, Caleb.”

“What?”

“Look, I know you’re probably mad at me --”

“You think?”

“Yes. And I’m really sorry, okay. I just, panicked, and then Carson and Sara and… I feel really bad.”

“You should.”

“I need to see you. I need to --- make things better.”

“I don’t know.”

“Where are you?”

“None of your business.”

“Damnit, Caleb. I’m trying okay.”

“Okay.” And I hang up before he can say anything else. “That was Jake.”

“Yeah?”

“He wants to talk. Do you think I should?”

“I don’t know, Caleb. It’s up to you. But be careful, Jake seems like he may be more trouble than he’s worth.”

I know this, I know this and yet a part of me thinks he is worth it. In some way he is worth it and I want to try. I tell Clark to take me home, I need to think about this more, need to figure out what to say, and then maybe see him tonight. In the car, the easiness of the ride here is gone. Clark is quiet and I feel close to defeat. My friends only want what is best for me, I repeat over and over, but somehow I am still upset with them for not supporting me. I want them to say, “yeah, go get him! Jake is perfect! Everything will work out!” But I can understand why they don’t, too, which is what is really tearing me apart and makes it feel like a wet blanket is hanging from my shoulders.

When we get to my house, Jake’s jeep is parked on the road and I gulp. Clark takes my hand and smiles, “It’ll be okay. Just be honest, Caleb. That’s all we can do.”

I shake my head in understanding, even though I’m not sure I can even fully understand the meaning of honesty anymore. I spent so many years lying to myself and everyone and even though I wanted to turn a new leaf, I feel like old habits really do die hard, because feelings are complicated and lying is easier than facing them.

Jake isn’t outside, which means he’s infiltrated my fortress. I open the door slowly, and listen for voices. I can hear my mother saying something in the kitchen, so I walk slowly toward them.

He’s sitting at the bar, drinking a can of soda as my mom is telling him about something that happened ages ago. He glances over, but doesn’t say anything at first, just looks at me. My mom notices and turns around, smiling.

“Caleb, look who I found outside! He says he’s here to see you. I told him he didn’t have to wait outside like a stranger.” My mom is smiling and trying to be funny and I smile along.

“Yeah. That’s good.”

“Jake, do you wanna stay for dinner? I’m making chicken cordon bleu.”

“Uh, sure, I guess.”

“Great! I’ll be done in probably another hour or so, so you guys go do whatever it is you guys do.” Suddenly I worried my mom knew about Jake and I, someone had told her, maybe Carson’s mom or even Cassie. But even caring is somehow silly, because whatever she knows, she’s still smiling.

In my room, Jake sits in my desk chair and I sit on my bed. We sit in quiet for a few minutes as I pick at a spot on my duvet. Jake is looking over my bookshelf uninterestedly. He gets up and grab a book from the shelf. It’s a volume of poetry by Pablo Neruda.

“I bought this for you last Christmas. Do you remember? I asked Avery what to get you and she said ‘a Pablo Neruda book; he’s a poet.’ So I went to the bookstore and asked the woman at the counter to help me. She smiled and picked one out. She said he has the best love poems and my girlfriend would love the book. Ironic, huh? Did you love it?”

I want to fall for his act, or what I want to think is his act. But I can’t. Seeing him reminds me of all the bad things, “I’m not your girlfriend.”

He frowns and puts the book back on the shelf. “No, you’re not. I was hoping you’re my boyfriend though,” he says, sitting next to me on the bed, taking my hand, “I know I’ve been a dick. More than a dick, whatever, but, Caleb, you're all I’ve ever wanted. Your kind and smart and -- beautiful.” He touches my cheek lightly, and when I don’t respond he puts his hand back on the bed. “I’m afraid and nervous and all that, but I can deal with it if you can help me and just… love me. I love you, Caleb, okay? I love you.” There’s a tear in his eye and I suddenly feel sorry for him. I wipe it off with my thumb.

“Okay. Okay, we can try. I want to be with you, Jake. But you constantly hurt me and everyone says I should just give up on you. There is so much I don’t know, much less understand about you. It’ll take time, I think. To trust you.”

“But you’ll try, right?”

I smile. “Yeah.” He keeps looking at me, and I know he wants me to say it to him. Those three words he’d already confessed. But I can’t. I can’t say it because I’m not sure I believe it. I’m not even sure I know what love is.

After a few minutes of staring at me, he leans forward and starts kissing me, slowly at first, but he speeds up, becoming more aggressive as he continues. He pushes me down and his hands start to roam all over my body. It feels incredible, and yet a twinge of guilt creeps into my mind as his hands squeeze my nipples. Is this right? Should I do this with my feelings so fragile? But the heat of the moment takes me over as he takes off his shirt. His body looks like sculpted marble, smooth and defined. I run my hands up his torso as he moans with his eyes closed. He lowers himself back down and starts to grind against me. He tugs at the hem of my shirt. I lift up as he pulls it off. I can feel my dick hardening in my jeans as he continues kissing me on the neck. His grinding intensifies. Suddenly he’s off me, unbuttoning his jeans and I panic.

My breathing is heavy and my voice comes out thick. “Jake, wait. I-”

He takes my hand and rubs it over his jeans, his dick straining against the fabric. “Don’t you want to feel it? Touch it? Don’t tell me you don’t.”

I continue feeling it and I don’t say I don’t want to do it. But I’m also afraid. But in the moment nothing seems to make sense and the thoughts course through my head faster than I can process them. Jake pushes down the jeans more and kicks them off, his dick sticking straight out, accusing me. I touch it gently at first. It’s bigger than I’d imagined from seeing it flaccid. It’s veiny and warm to the touch as I stroke a little. He moans and his body shakes. I take my hand and spit on it for lube, then continue to stroke purposely. I’m transfixed by my power, how his whole body reacts to my movements. Part of me wants to take it in my mouth, but I decide against it. One small step at a time. I continue my motions, taking time to rub around the head. I want to stop, kick him out, tell him I can’t do this. But the other part likes the way his face contorts, his eyes fluttering, his mouth slightly open. How he says my name and pants his pleasure. I continue my motions, watching him squirm when I put pressure on the head.

“I’m cumming.” He says, his voice low and gravelly. His body tenses, but I keep going. The first blast of cum pools on his belly; the next few around his abdomen; the rest pools around my hand as I look at it disinterestedly. He’s panting heavily now, but I get up and go to my dirty clothes hamper, take an old tee shirt and wipe the semen off my hand. I toss him the shirt. He’s still laying across my bed. I feel strangely empty. I feel like this should have been different. It was just a handjob, billions of people give handjobs to people they know even less than I know Jake. But it feels weird. All of it feels weird.

He sits up and is smiling. “Hey, dude, that was great.” He starts to put his shirt back on.

I smile half-heartedly. “Uh, yeah. No problem. Uh, we should get to dinner.”

“Yeah.”

I walk out the door, heading down the stairs.