Wicked - 7. Kyle 4

The painter had been willing to meet me at another fast-food venue, as friends. Instead of McDonalds I waited at a Hungry Jacks. I wasn't going to eat anything, the last of my savings was for a trip with friends to a waterpark on Sunday. There was a Wet And Wild a thirty-minute drive from Brine and through the busy suburbs in-between. Down the road from it was an authentic Buddhist temple. After this weekend I'd be proper broke so I'd have to hand out more resumes and hope to pick up work soon, at least Patricia would be a good reference.

The sun had set this Saturday evening, after my talk with this boy I was being dragged by friends to some beachside booze party. I'd bought my alcohol before the bottle-o shut, it was sitting in the backseat of my car. The window was all fixed and the mechanic had replaced some broken coil pump, supposedly the reason for its sudden stalling. I was still jumpy behind the wheel.

Daris Hadeel came in through the push door, dark eyes alighting on me within his tan face. I gave him a nervous smile. He clearly wasn't seriously interested in me. Unless he was a secret black magic practitioner with a vendetta.

"Hello," I greeted and he gave a brief smile and nod "I'm actually not going to eat anything, but you should if you want to." I pointed to the lit up boards, a cashier younger than us stood by the register waiting. There were only a few customers here.

"I'm not eating, it's Ramadan."

"Oh. You're Islam? Does that mean you don't eat for like a month?"

"Only when the sun's up. I'll eat when I get home."

"Alright."

I led us over to a booth. It was barely light outside. In here the fluorescent lights were bright on the fifties aesthetic I'd always admired about this place. Checkered floors, red vinyl seats, picture frames of Elvis Presley and Marilyn Monroe. As I scooted into the table I was curious about Daris being both Islamic and gay. All the Abrahamic religions forbade witchcraft, if my memory was serving me correctly. Then again if he was gay perhaps he wasn't too devoted to the scriptures. He sat opposite and stared at me, I was reminded of just how unfriendly and intimidating he was in person. The well-mannered conversations we'd had over messenger, I would've never believed it. He waited for me to speak.

"So how's painting going?"

"Good."

"Started any major works?"

"I finished a few self-portraits."

"That's good."

"Hm." An affirmative grunt. It looked like I'd need to get to the point.

I looked away uncomfortably while fiddling with the table's edge. Across the room two obese eaters were taking big bites of angus burgers and pawing at onion rings. It made my mouth water. It was probably their kids I could see through the backdoor, playing in the tunnel maze. I looked back into Daris's dark eyes.

"Why did you agree to meet me in the first place?" I tried.

"I don't have any gay friends." He shrugged.

"You're not looking for a relationship?" I watched him look away and scowl. There was some inner conflict there and I pitied him for being both gay and religious. For me, being gay had compounded my feelings of inadequacy, being yet another thing that deviated from my parents' expectations. It was hard enough to accept it on its own without adding a crisis of faith. I now felt like I understood Daris and his behavior, and I also didn't see him as holding vindictive feelings toward me. Perhaps distrust and projected internalized homophobia at my 'sinful lifestyle'. To be sure I blurted "You don't want me to die right?"

He looked alarmed "What the hell do you mean by that?"

I directed us into small talk and then told him I had something on tonight. Daris was happy to leave and go home to eat, not having food all day could also explain his moodiness. Neither him nor my ex-boyfriend Ethan had it out for me, which I'd already known. What a waste of time. The only other suspect was the guy I'd never met in person, though he'd seemed nice. The guy who never showed when we tried to meet and had ghosted me. I was sure it wasn't him either. So then who the hell was it? Was Marie Humberdross's readings, my bad luck and my near death experience really nothing after all?

I drove home and changed into nice clothes. Then I drove to the party's address.

I'd never enjoyed crowds, but I'd agreed to go to that popular girl Cassie's party with my friends just to see what it'd be like. I'd known before leaving that I'd lose interest in it within the first hour. Saturday night drinking with teenagers on the beach. We'd not been personally invited but told there was less chance we'd be kicked out if we came after dark. That had been true. But in the humid air, the flickering flames of oil torches, all the party-goers moved away from the beachside mansion and toward the ocean anyway. They couldn't kick us off public property.

The party was at the back of the house by the water, sand all over my sneakers and the hem of my jeans. There was talk of moving away to the rocks. Everyone was drinking, a few guys cartwheeling in the sand and falling into waves. They may have been on more than just alcohol. I was tight-lipped, hands to my sides and head shaking when it came to drugs. My parents would be furious. Bad enough I'm untalented and unpopular, but being a drug-taker would only cement my role as the disappointment child.

I stood with Kim and Geoff at the edge of the party. Brody was in the crowd practicing his schmoozing, probably flirting with a cheerleader. Jesse was in the masses somewhere. Katya had the sense not to come. A few other regulars were scattered throughout, but mostly it was the snobby kids who turned their noses up at me as they went by in the school corridors. A band of students from school were playing, I couldn't make out their faces well in the firelight but they were terrible anyway. Not that I was much of a listener of live music, but I was pretty sure they weren't in sync and their notes were off. The girl singer shrieked incomprehensible lyrics, grabbing the mic stand and facing the sky. It looked like it was cathartic for her. I hoped so.

Nobody cared that the music sucked because they were all drunk and enjoyed it as background noise. I suppose that had been the host's plan. I nervously pulled a can of pre-mixed Jim Beam from a six-pack in my plastic bag, popped the tab and started to drink. Kim had pink cruisers while Geoff was drinking Woodstock. I was even more concerned after a guy with pupils the size of dinner-plates offered us powder in a zip-lock bag, saying it was ketamine.

"Maybe this was a bad idea." I had to shout to be heard over the singer's screaming.

Geoff had reached for the bag, Kim caught his wrist and shook her head at the guy. He moved along.

"We should at least stay until midnight." Kim shouted back. "Relax and try to enjoy yourself."

I wasn't about to talk to anyone I didn't know. I stood with friends and took regular swigs, my face went pink and I started to get drunk though it didn't outwardly show. I stood as controlled and unanimated as usual.

Later on the music stopped and we all collectively moved along the shadowy beach. People were skipping and jumping, raucous and merry. Running up and jumping down the sand dunes. Running into the water and tripping, their friends laughing whenever someone soaked themselves. It was hot enough that the water probably wasn't bad. Above the horizon the moon shone on our travelling party. We reached rocks, there was swearing when feet got stubbed. Broken jandles left behind. A girl in a jean skirt and bikini scraped her hands and knees, she ignored the blood and continued chasing her friend. I stopped looking at everyone else and put all my effort on my steps along the rocks. Regardless of my high pain tolerance, leaving in the back of an ambulance would be a lame way to end this party.

The waves were fiercer here, crashing against boulders and spraying salt. Someone stumbled but their friend caught them. This was honestly very stupid. I took a swig from my can and continued my careful climb. Looking up at one point and realizing I'd lost sight of Kim and the others. I kept going and soon reached the highest point in the boulder stack, most of the party was ahead and down by the tide-pools and caves, some silhouettes were still making the climb from behind me. Wide puddles reflected the moonlight as I began my descent. Testing the rocks for steadiness before each step. Upon reaching the bottom I was met by an intoxicated friend, clutching a bottle of mixed bourbon.

"There he is!" Jesse swayed.

"Hey... have you seen Kim?"

"Who cares about Kim?" he was almost slurring "Want to shot some of this with me?"

"I really shouldn't." Was I imagining a flirty undertone?

"Come onnn. Pleasee." Then he winked at me. Holy shit.

"Uh... we can sit for a bit."

"Awesome."

I followed him away. He'd clearly been drinking for a while and I was almost done with my fourth can. A group was lighting a bong in one of the caves. I'd seen more drugs tonight than in my whole life. Jesse had been weird for as long as I'd known him, was he secretly gay? A closeted bisexual? Maybe this was nothing more than Brody's hit of bi-curiosity, an experiment that would be done and gone by the end of the night. He led me away and climbed up a rock, sat and stared out to sea. There were a scattering of stars overhead. I sat beside Jesse and twiddled my thumbs.

He took a swig from his bottle and looked at me "So you're like gay right?" Not much tact.

"Yep." I admitted and drummed my fingers against my arm.

At the beginning of the year only a handful of friends had known. A fat, pink-haired and sex-positive lady who manned the counter of Brine's lone adult shop had known. I'd gone in there mortified, keeping my eyes off the display of pornographic DVDs, all spread legs and curving cocks. Bought a dildo from her and only used it a few times, the thing sat under the clothes of my bottom drawer.

"You're a good-looking guy, Kyle."

I looked up as he took another swig. His eyes blazed out at the sea. Jesse had the eyes of a burning man, a wildness to them that made it look like he was burning beneath his skin. A passionate intensity that was disconcerting, though he sat calm and collected.

I was blushing as I looked away from him. As someone who wasn't very expressive I didn't get a lot of attention; I was surprised at how my interest in Jesse jumped so quickly upon hearing he'd taken any notice of me. But in not being articulate I was left to awkwardly bunching my hands. Then my eyes fell as I remembered how deeply un-special I was.

"I'm not good-looking."

"Yes you are."

"No. I'm not good-anything." I hadn't meant to be mopey but here I was.

I finished my can, scrunched it up and put it back in my bag. Pulled out my fifth one and popped the tab, brought the can to my mouth and took a big sip. I could barely taste the alcohol now, it pooled in my belly and made the edges of my vision swirl. I looked around again, most of the nearby kids had wandered off so we were basically alone.

"I think you're perfect." Jesse was staring at me full-on, his body angled to me.

I almost laughed. Instead I raised my eyes incredulously, not believing for a moment he could actually like me but wondering if he were perhaps insane. He didn't look away, his voice had sounded religious.

"That's funny, Jesse."

I considered him attractive, yet there was something off-putting about his appearance as well. He was fair-faced, but some of his features were too fair, almost child-like. As if he'd not grown up all at once but been partially left behind at puberty. As if he'd not fully formed in the womb. Smooth like he'd been stunted. Like he'd stopped maturing at a point years past.

"Did you hear the last song we played? It was for you. Us."

This time I did laugh but decided to indulge him "You were playing in that band? I knew you were musical but I didn't know you had a band."

"Yeah, we're terrible."

I laughed again at his honesty "I wished I'd paid more attention then, sorry Jesse."

"Actually I go by Jake." He snapped. His mood shifted so suddenly that I was alarmed.

"Oh, sorry Jake." I'd never heard anyone refer to him as Jake before, but I took another swig and went along with it "I meant to say: I'm sorry I didn't pay more attention to your playing specifically."

"That's alright." He was bright again, another sudden mood change. "So how long have you known you were gay?"

"I think I always knew. I had crushes on girls in primary school, but when I left I was definitely into boys. There was never a big 'ah-huh' moment for me." I clenched my cold can with both hands, skin feeling alcohol-warm "So... are you gay?"

"Yes."

"Oh, cool."

I stared out awkwardly, couldn't come up with anything to say. He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me closer while leaning in with viper-speed, lips crushing mine. I tensed and relaxed into it, kissing him back. He was a thousand times more daring than me. It felt wonderful for someone to like me, even though he surely didn't. It would be the alcohol and his hormones talking tonight. There was no way Jesse-Jake actually liked me. Nobody had ever liked me. Though I realized I still didn't know all that much about this guy. The kissing stopped and we looked at each other in the dark.

"I want to marry you."

"Woah."

"Do you love me?"

"Jes-Jake what the hell are you talking about?" I leaned away from him. If he was joking the tone of his voice was no indication.

"It's okay, I know you love me also. Even if you don't realize it yet. You'll see eventually when you stop fighting it. Then we can live together in a house like Cassie's. We can have kids if you want. I can work and support us both. I can do everything, you won't even have to do the housework." He was rambling, the words running from his mouth like water and tripping over each other. The atmosphere shifted and I was suddenly scared. And then it clicked.

"Oh my God it's you." I stood up, left my bag by his feet. "You tried to kill me."

"I love you. I know you love me too."

I fell back and staggered, stepped drunkenly off the rock and away from him. Head swimming as I made my retreat. We were alone out here. I felt a sudden urge to look back as if he might attack me, throw my head against the cliff-face, but he hadn't moved. Just sitting and watching me go.

I'd not found Kim or the others. Instead I climbed the boulders with my hands and feet, up and then down again, shuffling urgently and spraining my ankle. Limping back to the sand. Too drunk to drive, too scared to contemplate texting anyone. I recalled the other day when Jake had offered to walk me home, through a bush-path shortcut, just the two of us. Staring forward as he'd said it, my friends with us as we sat casually before the TV. Who knows what he'd have done if we were alone in the forest and far from other people. I looked back at the dark rocks, black waves gently crashing, and couldn't see anyone following me.

I walked home under streetlights, every so often looking back to make sure I wasn't being stalked.

Sunday morning I moved around the house lazily. Showered and getting reprimanded by Kim over text for walking home alone without telling her. I didn't tell her about Jake. It turned out I did have him as a Facebook friend, when I looked through his photos more carefully I found that he'd uploaded images with weird symbols. A few selfies taken with devil horn filters, eyes cool and soulless as he stuck out his tongue and flipped off the camera. He looked aggressive, delinquent. It frightened me.

At noon Kim's blue Honda pulled into the driveway and I hurriedly packed a bag before leaving the house in board shorts and a white top, towel slung over my shoulder. I lathered myself in sunscreen while she drove us to pick up Brody, Geoff and a lanky, talkative girl in my Physics class called Hannah. The trip was abuzz with excitement and once again I felt myself trying not to be a burden on everyone's fun. Keeping my distressing discovery about Jake a secret. Part of the reason I didn't want to say anything out loud was because of how frightened I was.

I kept it together for the car ride. We pulled into the spacious parking lot, it was a hot day and packed with families in sunglasses and bucket-hats. Kids running with boogie-boards. We lined up and paid the entry fee, getting highlighter-colored wristbands taped on. Then making our way to our assigned locker. There were kiddie pools under giant mushrooms, a miniature golf course and even a gondola lift that took you up the forest mountain, you could bobsled the metal tubes back down. There was go-kart racing, a wave generator pool, a canteen for seafood, chips and every flavor of ice-cream.

I went on some of the rides but anxiously found myself avoiding anything that looked like it might be dangerous. One of the attractions was called 'The Rock' and people were lining up to jump off cliff platforms into a pool below. Geoff was standing at the highest one while we were lounging on towels by the pool's edge.

"How much do you want to bet he does a belly-flop?" Brody smirked.

I'd been tempted to go too but was scared out of it. In my mind's eye I imagined slipping, somehow hitting the edge of the pool and snapping my spine.