A to Z - 33. Chapter 33: Running

November 4

Two days ago, at lunch Wednesday, Terry and Kaz told me about the plan for tomorrow, Saturday.

“So it’s going to be easy,” said Terry leaning forward conspiratorially. “Zander’s going to ride with Kaz to regionals on Saturday. Kaz drives back afterwards, and instead of dropping him off at home or at school, he goes directly to Alyssa’s. Surprise!”

“While we’re running, Terry’s picking up the cake,” added Kaz.

Was it just me, or didn’t anyone else pick out the flaw in this plan?

“Yeah, but won’t Kaz and Zander want a shower before a party?”

“Not a problem,” Kaz had a smug look on his face. “Terry will have a change of clothes for both of us, and we can shower at Alyssa’s after the big surprise.”

I nodded. They seemed to be enjoying engineering a surprise for their friend.

“It’s nice of Alyssa and her parents to host,” I offered.

“Well, Alyssa is Zander’s ex, and they’re still friendly,” Terry explained.

My gut clenched for a moment. Shit. Reality breaking in on fantasy. Somehow, I’d hoped that Zander might like me. As in, like me enough to be more than just friends. I’d deluded myself again, of course. Just like I'd started to fall for Toby Harris last summer. Well, at least if I’ve managed to fall for another straight boy, he hasn’t figured it out yet, and I’m still in one piece. But the whole world seemed much darker, right then.

“When did they…” I couldn’t even finish the question.

“Last spring, before the big Spring Formal,” she said, dismissing the question.

“Oh.”

I didn’t know what to make of that. Zander chose that moment to appear, so the conversation shifted.

So Zander is straight. As I reflected on it later that evening, I thought that the worst part of all this is that I don’t know what to do about it. For the first time, I’ve done well in school. I have a few friends, who sometimes manage to make me smile – laugh, even.

And, damn it all, I can’t help wanting to get close to Zander, even if what I wanted is impossible now.

Of course, I’ve got a funny way of showing it.

Today is Zander’s birthday. I wanted to get him a present. More accurately, I’ve been racking my brains for an idea. I know he listens to music, but I’m not going to get him an iTunes card or a CD or something. That just seemed too – I don’t know – boring. Yesterday, Thursday, I just decided to go shopping in town after school to see what I could find.

It’s getting really chilly now, outside. Because I spend so much of my time inside, I forget this. I turned up my collar on my denim jacket, and crammed my hat farther down on my head. That helped a little.

Just off Main Street, I found an antique shop still open as the sunlight faded. Somehow, it looked inviting. Maybe it’s because I’m used to shopping second-hand. The bell jangled as I entered. An older woman with long grey hair pulled back tightly in a long pony tail sat behind a counter, reading.

She smiled. “Can I help you?”

I shook my head. “Just looking around. Is that okay?”

“Sure thing,” she nodded, and returned to her book.

I explored the cramped little store, overcrowded with relics from other houses, other families, other times. Faceted glass seemed to be a big part of every display. What would Zander want a set of miniature ruby glasses marked ‘cordials’ for? I don’t even know what that means.

There were old toys (definitely out), odd pieces of silver (interesting but useless), shiny brass candlesticks (good if Zander ever loses power or his flashlight) and such like. I took my time looking at everything. At least the shop was warm.

I finally spotted something in the back. It was a small painting, in a simple frame. A young man reclining on a grassy hill, under a tree, gazing out over a wide meadow. The sky reminded me of the late afternoon sunshine at the Whitley farm. Perfect peace. Serenity. This was what I wanted for Zander.

I lifted it off the wall, looking for a price tag. A little square tag marked it as forty dollars. Ouch. That was steep. Forty dollars is more than a week’s worth of eating. I’ve gone hungry often – but I can’t say I enjoy the experience. I hesitated a long time. Something about the little painting told me that this was perfect. A perfect afternoon for a perfect boy, something I wish I could have shared with him – or might share in some cosmically different universe.

Making sure the lady behind the counter wasn’t looking, I set down my pack and reached down into the very bottom. I found my roll of summer money, counted out forty dollars, then stuffed the rest back in the pack. I’ll have to make it work out somehow in the spring.

“Oh, that’s a very nice little painting you’ve got,” the woman said brightly when I brought it up to pay for it.

I nodded.

“Is it a gift for someone?”

“Yes.”

“Let me wrap it up for you, then.”

I shifted from foot to foot while she expertly enclosed my gift in bright striped paper and a lively ribbon. It looked like a real present, now.

I got back to school in time to hide out in the Library.

I know I’ve chickened out over the past two days. Since learning that Zander is straight, it’s really, really hard to face him. I mean, I want to be his friend, but it's hard not to be jealous. I invented an excuse to miss the group at lunch yesterday and today. I just didn’t want to hear about all the party planning and shit. Hell, I’m not even invited. At least, nobody asked me to come.

Really, I’m avoiding Zander. I’m afraid that he’ll find out I’m crushing hard on him, and everything good that’s happened in the last couple of months will come crashing down. That’s the usual pattern.

At home in Carlsberg, it would be a couple of good weeks. That would be just enough time to be fooled by Dad being sober or withdrawn, or to be drawn in by a hot guy or a stupid crush. Then everything would explode again. Dad would find a fault with something, or I'd become someone's target.

Really, I’m incredibly lucky to have gotten this far. If I had any sense at all, I would get out of town now, before the snow flies, and head south. It’s been good for the past two months, but that’s no reason life won’t go all to hell tomorrow or the next day.

I have pondered this proposition seriously since Wednesday. Very seriously. I never, ever, want to be Zander's target. That would hurt too much.

Anyway, at the end of Physics lab, I handed Terry the present for Zander. The paper had gotten a little creased over the course of the morning. It didn’t look quite so nice as it had before.

She looked at me, puzzled.

“Can you give this to Zander for me?” I hurried through my prepared excuses. “I can’t be at lunch again today. Gotta meeting.”

“Sure, I can do that, but what meeting is this?”

“Guidance office.”

“So you won’t be at lunch at all?” plain disbelief on her face.

“No.” Maybe never again. Easy enough to run.

Still looking very unsure, she picked it up, weighing it. We parted, and Terry wore an unhappy expression on her face.

Zander passed by my worktable in Art class.

“Hey, Andy. Missed you at lunch.”

“Yeah. I had a meeting.”

We paused awkwardly.

“Later.”

“Happy Birthday,” I added, and he turned back.

He smiled.

I nearly choked. I want him and I know I’m already too close.

“Good luck tomorrow.”

Good luck with the race. Good luck with the party. Good luck in life, because there’s a fifty-fifty chance I’ll be long gone by Monday.

He smiled. “Thanks.”

November 7

So I didn’t leave town this weekend, though I thought hard about it. I don’t know how to break things off before I get in too deep. I’m already too deep, that’s the trouble. How do I know? On Saturday morning, I jacked off in the shower daydreaming about Zander. I had this vision of me, on my knees in front of him, his dick down my throat. And me loving it, taking his every inch and swallowing him down. That got me so hot that I exploded all over the shower stall wall, hand pistoning on my soapy cock, in an orgasm that left me trembling afterwards.

So I stayed because I need to stay close to him. But not too close.

Saturday, while I worked on washing windows and getting the storm windows in place at Mrs. Marjorie’s, I couldn’t stop thinking about Zander. How was his race going? Would he go on to states, like Kaz hoped?

There was no way I could go to the party. For one thing, I hadn’t been asked. For another, I had no idea where Alyssa’s house actually is. I suppose I could have asked, but chances were good I’d get told off if I did. In this tight group of friends, I’m not sure I’m wanted.

Take Kaz and Zander, for example. They’d been great friends – best friends – for years. I felt small and insignificant compared to that friendship. Who am I kidding? I’m just a nuisance kid that Terry adopted for some strange reason.

Another reason for staying in town is my own physical comfort. At school, I get to eat plenty and cheap. Granted, it’s not always the best quality food, but it’s a notch higher than what I got living with Dad. I ate better at Eustace’s, but only once a day. And, as long as I manage not to get locked out of the school building, I am warm every day.

This is not a small consideration. I get cold now, working outdoors for Mrs. M. and the Abbotts. If I were walking – even hitchhiking – I’d probably get a lot colder, especially if I had to sleep rough every night.

And then, there’s the small matter of actually doing OK in school for a change.

In the end, I figured I could handle the humiliation of being the nuisance member of the group until I could find a graceful way to detach myself. Until then, I will have to tamp down my crush on Zander before everything goes to hell.

So what else happened today? Something small, something bigger.

In English, Mr. Warfield made a big announcement about a writing contest. There were categories in short stories, plays, and poetry. There will be actual prize money of up to $100 offered for the best submission in each category.

I wonder if I can write a prize winning story. I doubt it, but I can try. I need the money. I wonder if I can come up with something. The deadline is a long way off – mid January.

After Physics, Terry told me I had to come to lunch. No excuses would be accepted. Reluctantly, I followed.

There was a nervous tension at the table when I sat down with my tray. Zander and Kaz and Terry all traded looks, waiting to see who would get to spring the bad news to me. Was this my moment to get un-welcomed? To get told off?

Finally, Terry nodded to Kaz. “You do it. It was your idea.”

“No, it wasn’t. It was Zander’s idea.”

She looked over to him. Sheepishly, Zander pulled out a big shopping bag out from under the table and pushed it over to me.

“Kaz and I thought you might like these,” he said quietly, not looking directly at me.

Now really puzzled, I opened up the bag. Inside was a smaller bag, and a larger box. I pulled out the bag and peered inside.

Socks. White athletic socks. Great. So now they know how poor I am, they have to buy me clothes? I was about to get angry when Zander interrupted my thoughts.

“Open the box, OK?”

Glaring at him, I took out the box and opened it. Inside, nestled a pair of running shoes. Gray, with bright blue and orange trim. Orange laces. Brand new. Now thoroughly confused, I looked up at three smiling faces.

Kaz spoke up.

“Look, I know you don’t run, but I’m going to need a new running partner. This goofball,” he gestured with his head toward Zander to indicate which goofball he meant, “missed states by seven tenths of a second.”

Shit. I hadn’t even asked how the races went. Now I felt like more of an idiot.

“So now he has to go to swimming practice every day,” Kaz went on. “You said you didn’t have running shoes, so I thought maybe this would convince you to come with me in the mornings. I know you get up early anyway.” The big guy smiled widely.

“But, but…” I sputtered.

How could I accept such a gift? I just couldn’t see it.

“You can’t give me shoes. They’re too expensive!” I finally got out.

“No, really, Andy, it’s fine,” said Terry. “Kaz’s dad runs the shoe store in town. How do you think Kaz manages to keep those big feet in sneakers? He must go through six pairs a year, the way he runs. Anyhow, Kaz didn’t just get a deal on these, he got a steal.”

“Kaz never takes ‘no’ for an answer, didn’t you know that?” Zander laughed.

I’d been set up. I couldn’t use the poverty excuse anymore. Maybe I could claim that I had a lung disease or something.

“I don’t know what to say.”

“How about see you tomorrow morning?” laughed Kaz.

I didn’t see a way out. I guess I wasn’t supposed to. I decided to be graceful in being cornered.

“Fine. But you may regret taking me on. I’m no Zander.”

That got a laugh from everyone, but it was true. I’m not beautiful, or funny, or athletic, or anything like him.

Later, Terry and Kaz took their stuff up and left Zander and me alone for a moment.

“Thanks for the painting,” he said softly.

I turned to him, surprised. “I hope it’s okay.”

He chuckled softly. “I love it. You got it absolutely perfect. I put it in my room. It’s really peaceful.”

Something inside me warmed to know that a teeny, tiny part of me – something I bought for him – would be in his room.

“My mom wonders where I’m getting all this culture from.”

I looked down, but I was smiling. I didn’t want him to see my face flush.

“I didn’t see you at the party on Saturday.”

I kept my head down, ashamed now.

“Sorry. I had to work, and then…”

I decided I could be honest here. No lies.

“I’m not good with parties. With people.”

Zander looked at me with an unreadable expression.

“It’s okay,” he said at length. “I just didn’t want to think you were ditching me. Ditching us,” he added, gesturing toward where Kaz and Terry had gone.

“No, it’s not that…it’s…I’m sorry,” I concluded lamely.

“I forgive you this time,” Zander said, his smile coming out.

And I couldn’t help smiling back, at least a little.

So, tonight I have to remember to get to sleep early and set my alarm sooner. I have to get up and figure out how to dress to run tomorrow morning with Kaz. Zander gets to sleep in, because swimming practices are in the evening for a while.