1550 Loring Lane - 11. Boogeyman

Boogeyman

@SupermanROFL

“Telling a gay person to ‘just come out’ is like telling a caterpillar to fly away. They're not ready...leave them be.”

I was looking through the kitchen towels piled high in a cardboard box when I saw him. I tried to keep my peeks at him secret, stealing glimpses of his sandy brown hair, thick and cut short. His face was all chin and cheekbones, masculine and square. His skin was a golden tan, softly gleaming as he looked over some men’s shirts hanging on a rack. The yard sale was behind the building in a parking lot and the morning sun was brilliant on this beautiful September day. He was so attractive, though not really handsome in a conventional way.

“Finding good deals.”

“Yeah, sure,” I answered, not looking at my friend, Tommy. We had ventured out rather early for college guys to find stuff for our new apartment. Tommy and I had just moved into the new place and while we had the ubiquitous cement block and plywood bookcases and Formica topped chrome kitchen table, we were still without several necessaries. We didn’t want to waste our precious beer money on things like rubber spatulas and mixing bowls. Garage and yards sales seemed to be the answer.

“I found a couple of matching pots with lids. They’re only fifty cents each.” Tommy was now digging through the box next to mine. It was filled with old plastic containers and various kitchen utensils.

“There are some nice hot pads here,” I said, showing him the lobster claw shaped oven mitts.

“Those are too thin,” he said, feeling them. “See, they’re decorative.”

Tommy was the cook. He was husky, as my grandmother always said. My buddy was a junior at Augsburg University, majoring in elementary ed. We’d met at a party at my old dorm at the University of Minnesota. Territorial Hall was the party dorm that year. Tommy and I hit it off playing beer pong and laughing at some drunk girls trying to play darts. Ever since then, we’d become inseparable. When my freshman year ended, we agreed to find an apartment together away from campus. Both of us were tired of the parties and distractions. At least, Tommy was tired of the parties. I had to get away from other kinds of distractions.

“What about these?” I asked, showing him some thicker, heavier ones adorned with orange chili peppers on a bright green background.

“Nice,” he said, taking them from my hand. “Maybe you should talk to him.”

I scowled at him and grabbed the oven mitts from his hands. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Blondie over there. He looks like he plays for your team.”

“Stop saying that,” I snapped.

“He’s wearing a rainbow wrist band.”

“Maybe you should ask him out. He looks more like your type.”

“I don’t think Magda would like a threesome. I guess I could ask her.” Tommy was elbowing me in the arm. I pulled away with a grunt. “Come on, I saw you staring.”

“I thought maybe I knew him from class.” Looking through a pile of books on the table, I tried not to look at Sandy-Locks. Good God, I’d already given him a nickname. He was placing a flannel shirt in front his t-shirt, seeing how it looked on him. Then he’d hold it out and appraise it with a cocked head. His arm muscles bulged and rippled beneath the fabric. Even from across the yard, I could see the outline of his dark nipples under the thin cotton cloth. His tongue was sticking out between his full lips. Good God, he was wearing a fucking t-shirt with a red devil emblazoned on the front of it, the figure’s muscular tail curled and beckoning. He was tempting, that’s for sure. I wanted to kiss those thick, red lips and rip that shirt off him, see what delights Satan was hiding.

“You’re staring again,” Tommy teased. I snorted in disgust at both myself for pondering Sandy-locks and at Tommy’s sophomoric taunts. “Just say hi and strike up a convo with the dude.” Tommy tapped his fist to my shoulder, egging me on. “He’s just a dude, not the boogeyman who will get you in the night, unless you want him to.”

“No!”

Tommy grinned wide-eyed and amused as the other shoppers in the yard looked right at me. Sandy-locks of the red devil shirt also stared. I felt like I was on display and felt my cheeks heat and my forehead burn.

I was in hell.

There was a pregnant pause of silence as everyone gaped at me, then returned to their fingering clothes and kitchen utensils, cds, and books for possible purchase.

I was about to make a declaration of war against Tommy when I felt a presence behind me.

“Excuse me, but do you work in the library?”

I turned my head, and to my horror, it was Sandy-locks, he of the satanic shirt with such a turgid tail, standing right there, smiling.

“I do, sometimes…why, did you need something? What?” I stammered in the most charming way possible.

Tommy was making kissy-faces at me from behind the guy in the red devil shirt. I scowled back at him.

“I noticed you there and wondered if they were hiring. I work in the cafeteria and if possible would like something that doesn’t involve degreaser and mops.” Sandy-locks was absolutely stunning, with a smooth, tanned face, white teeth that gleamed in the sunlight, and an easy, almost eager grin on his pouty red lips.

“I’m not sure, you know, if they need anyone else,” I answered, feeling even warmer than a minute ago.

“Maybe you could go out for coffee and talk about ‘the library,’” Tommy said, making ridiculous air quotes and grinning like the red devil figure on the shirt in front of me. Tommy was such a fucking bastard.

“I don’t want to bother your day,” Sandy-locks said. He looked a little alarmed.

“No bother,” Tommy said, stepping closer. “I bet Chris would love to have a coffee and a chat.”

“I don’t know how much time I have right now,” Sandy-locks said, pulling his phone from his pocket and peering at it. “I have class in about an hour or so.”

“Maybe tonight then,” Tommy said. “You can make it a date.”

“A date?” Sandy-locks said, crinkling his perfect nose, confused. “I’m not into guys, not like that.”

I looked down at his wristband, a rainbow of colored knots and beads. “I’m not either.” I looked right into my roommate’s eyes and continued, “Right Tommy. I’m all about the ladies.”

Sandy-locks relaxed a little, realizing my focus. He recovered quickly. “Oh, the band is because of my cousin. She was president of the GSA at our high school last year. I wear it to show my support for her.”

“I see,” Tommy said, making an okay sign, and nodding at me. “We joke about being gay all the time. Chris is always saying MY girlfriend is just a beard and I’m actually in love with him. It’s all good.”

“Yeah,” Sandy-locks said, looking a bit doubtful. “But, if you were gay, I’d totally be fine with it.”

“I’m not,” I said, crossing my fingers behind my back. “So, I can ask my boss if they need any help and we could meet up and talk about it, about the job, at a coffee house or something.”

“That’s great. Thanks.” Sandy-locks started walking away, and then he stopped and turned. His face broke into a sheepish grin. “I need your phone number. I’m Nate, by the way.”

“Chris, and this is my idiot roommate Tommy.”

We exchanged digits and said goodbye. I noticed as he left the garage sale, he glanced over his shoulder at me. Sandy-locks was too cute.

“You’ve got a date.” Tommy teased.

“No, he’s straight.”

“Sure, straight to the frathouse. That’s the only thing ‘straight’ about him.”

***

Two weeks later….

Tommy wouldn’t stop knocking on my bedroom door, so I finally got out of my desk chair and opened it.

“What?” I bellowed.

“How’d your date go with devil boy?”

“It wasn’t a date. We played pool at Sidney’s and had a couple of beers. Nate finally got a fake ID good enough to trick the bouncer there and we were trying it out.” I started to close the door on him, but he just pushed past me and plopped down on my bed.

“Dude, spill. What’s going on with you guys? This is like the hundredth time seeing each other or something in a couple of weeks. Isn’t it time to kiss and then finally come barreling out of the closet?”

“Maybe I’m not gay. Maybe I’m asexual or bi or something.” I crossed my arms to make a point, showing I was resolute with my newest story.

“Please,” Tommy said, and waved his hand at me dismissively. “You practically get an erection when a male jogger crosses our path. Yesterday, you practically ran me into the corner of Passolt Hall when that guy in those shorts took off his shirt.”

I didn’t know how to respond to the accusations since they were obviously true. However, it did make me a little angry, so I lashed out at him.

“I did not!” I shook my head vigorously. “How come you’re so sure I’m gay? Last year, when I was dating Sarah, you never said a word.”

“Beard. Plain and simple. You were so far back in that closet you couldn’t see the door or even the hangers. There are suitcases that were taking up less space in the closet than you. This year, I see you starting to explore things. When a guy talks to you, this dreamy look crosses your face. You start talking in gibberish and acting all ‘ga-ga’.”

I sat down in my chair carefully, thinking about his words. “Do I seem really … I don’t know, gayer this year or something?”

Tommy didn’t answer at first. He inspected his fingernails and finally looked up. “Naw, you’re the same as last year. However, that was before you melted down this summer, when you were all drunk confessing things to me. That’s when I started to notice.”

I had tried to pretend it hadn’t happened. I had a brief makeout session with a guy at a resort, and afterwards, the guy pretended I didn’t exist. It had hurt far more than I’d thought it should, at the time. When Tommy and I got together to plan our living together, I got sloppy drunk on wine coolers and Long Island Iced Teas and told him everything I’d felt.

Then I threw up for two days.

“This summer I was acting on my curiosity, that’s all,” I said. “I really don’t think that life is for me.”

Tommy snorted, again. “Well, whether you like it or not, you get super excited over guys and you have no reaction to hot chicks. Magda is a smoking hottie and when we were at the pool a couple of weeks ago, you didn’t even notice when her tit popped out. That’s how fucking gay you are dude.”

Tommy’s well-endowed girlfriend’s breast really didn’t do anything for me. Still, I was trying to make a point. I decided to argue the situation from a different angle. Maybe then I could get Tommy off my back.

“I don’t think Nate’s gay anyway. I get no vibes from him and we’ve had drinks, been alone, and he’s not tried a thing. Nothing.”

“So what?” Tommy said, chuckling. “Neither have you.” He looked at the ceiling and pondered the ceiling fan, then added, “Naw, he’s as gay as a goose. Listen, he even made up a fake lesbian cousin to explain his rainbow bracelet.”

“I think she’s real.” I said. “Nate talked to her a couple of days ago right in front of me.”

“Besides,” Tommy continued. “I’ve seen how he stares at you when you’re not looking. Dude cannot stop staring at your chest and your crotch. He’s obsessed with you and I think you two need to start fucking and get over it. I’ll stay over at Magda’s so you can be alone, seduce him.”

“No,” I argued, eloquently.

“I know you, Chris. You are falling in love with him. I bet he’s falling in love with you too. Just go with it.”

My roommate continued, “It’s hilarious you dubbed him Sandy-locks from the first time you met him. Dude is totally looking for just the right lap to sit in, just like in the fairy tale. Some guys are too big, some too small, and you, Chris, are just right for him. I think it’s your lap he wants to sit on.”

I shook my head at his crassness, but then I couldn’t help but picture it.

Tommy sighed, stretched, and then bounced out of my room. “I’m making pizza tonight. Will you be around?”

Without thinking, I answered him. “Nate and I are going to Sliders to have wings and watch the game.”

Tommy laughed out loud as he closed the bedroom door.

***

One week later …

I burst through the front door of our apartment at 1550 Loring Lane, calling out for my roomie. “Tommy! Tommy, where the fuck are you? Goddamn it, Tommy. We need to talk.”

There wasn’t an answer, which wasn’t odd during the past week. Tommy had been spending every night at his girlfriend’s place, leaving me obscene notes about the things I should do to Nate. I couldn’t leave him alone in a room, because Tommy will have left some condoms or lube with little notes about “The Red Devil” or “Sandy-locks”. I was scared Nate would get the wrong idea, or, well, the right idea, about me.

He had to be at Magda’s so I called her number, listening to it ring. It went to voicemail, so I texted him and her and told them it was an emergency.

It wasn’t. I was hurt, embarrassed, scared, disgusted, and a little peeved at Tommy. I also needed my best friend’s shoulder right now as well. The tears in my eyes kept threatening to spill.

Tommy had been right. I had fallen in love with Nate. I became obsessed with him, and the last couple of days, I became frantic when I couldn’t see him. He was in class or lab or had something else to do. We’d spent so much time together, it was strange to suddenly have him absent.

This afternoon, I finally saw him, walking through campus with some blondish bimbo, tits out to here, hanging on his arm and kissing him. He was glowing with excitement. Nate was a friendly guy normally, but he was now beaming with pride, and lust or something.

Nate wasn’t gay. I was in love with a straight man. Again. This was the second time in a few months and my heart was aching.

I needed Tommy, and he wasn’t answering.

Finally, my phone jangled, and I saw it was Magda.

“Hey, Mags. Is Tommy with you? I need to talk to him right away.”

“No, he’s not. Why would he be here?” she asked, her voice distant, echoing.

I was surprised at her question. “Why wouldn’t he be with you?”

“Tommy dumped me a couple of weeks ago, Chris. He’s gotten very strange lately, and then he told me it was over. I have no idea why, but I haven’t seen him since.”

“Are you sure?” I asked, stupidly.

“Yes, I’m sure. You’re his best friend, you would know better than me.” Then, Magda hung up. It was obvious, she was pissed at my roommate. It was bewildering.

I stared at the phone, lost, dazed, and a little scared. “What happened?”

My phone jangled, Tommy’s name and face popping into view.

“Tommy,” I answered. “When did you break up with Magda?”

“Hey Chris. A while ago. Say, did you and the Red Devil finally do the nasty?

“No, he has a girlfriend.”

Tommy didn’t say anything. Time stretched out before us. Finally, his voice cracked as he said, “I’ll be right home.”

I slumped back in my chair and waited.

Twenty minutes later….

“Nate has a girlfriend?” Tommy asked, pulling his key out of the lock and slamming it shut. “That’s just wrong. There is no way that guy is straight, no way.”

I wiped my eyes, rubbing my face. “I saw them in the quad, attached at the arm and hip and lips. Nate’s straight.”

Tommy swore, “I never would have guessed, damn. Wanna beer, dude?” He grabbed two from the fridge and handed me one before I could answer. “So pretty boy got himself some pussy.”

“Yeah, I guess.” I took a swig of my beer. “You were right. I was falling in love with him. Fuck! No, I fell in love with him and now I’m feeling so shitty. I thought we were so close, but—God, I’m so stupid.”

“Chris, you’re not stupid. You are still confused, a little scared to come out, and that’s okay. I know you like the back of my hand, and you’ll get there, soon. Chris, you’ll have guys hanging off you left and right. There won’t be a more popular gay boy around.”

“I really don’t want to be this way. It hurts too much.”

“Of course, it hurts. Ending things is painful. Magda and I breaking up really screwed with my head, but it needed to be done.”

“What’s up with that?” I said, leaning closer. “How can you break up with your girlfriend of over two years, and not tell me. That’s a serious lapse in the friend code.” I actually felt a little better considering Tommy’s issues and not wallowing in my own.

“I knew you were going through some stuff, and so I didn’t want to bug you with it.” Tommy was uncharacteristically sedate and soft-spoken.

“We’re best friends, aren’t we? How can you not tell me?”

Tommy didn’t answer. “It was time to let her go. I’m fine. I—”

“This isn’t cool, Tommy. I thought you loved her. What happened?” I asked. “Was it getting too serious?”

Tommy nodded, and in a small voice added. “In a way, it was getting too serious and I couldn’t let it continue, but now, I’m not sure.”

I was even more confused now. “Do you want her back?”

Tommy said immediately, “No. I don’t want Magda back. I want something else back.”

“What?” I asked.

“Are you gay?”

I answered him with a nod.

“What if a guy wanted to try something out. Would you let him kiss you?”

I didn’t know what to say. Tommy was acting weird. “Is there someone you know who--?”

“Shut up!” he yelled and grabbed me by the sides of my head. His lips crushed mine, his tongue thrust at my mouth. I opened, instinctively, and we kissed. I felt a rush like I’d never felt before. It was raw and electric, and as I opened my eyes, I could see Tommy had pulled away.

He had a shit-eating grin on his face, proud and pleased. “Did you like that?” he asked.

“I did.”

“Can we try that again?” he asked, his hand on my shoulder, his eyes pleading to me.

“Yeah, we can.”

I am definitely, stupendously gay. And now I know, Tommy is too.