As They Say - (Revised) - 38. Entry 50

20th June 1991:

I did it; I did the unspeakable this morning. I jerked off to my best friend. I have no idea where the idea came from, but it seemed like a reasonable excuse to do it when I was horny this morning. Let me explain first, but don't judge, okay.

Do you remember when I talked about the nudity magazine Carl showed me?

Yeah... for some odd notion, that very magazine and its contents drifted around in my hormonal brain at 9 o'clock this morning. It came in fragments mostly; how the buff naked woman appeared, posed in the pictures. It looked like she acknowledged you; it seemed like she knew you were there and what you are doing or intend to do. For some reason, it gave an edge to it; it was funny how the women were smiling in the magazine. Do all people grin when you do it with them? I guarantee Carl would not be beaming, knowing that I was using him as fueling material for my fantasy this morning.

Though that is not what I've set out to tell you. I'll explain. You see, the magazine initially started my arousal. I did intend to start rubbing myself with the picture of the naked women in mind. However, the thought of what Carl uses it for popped into my head. Then there was no going back; I didn't even think twice about it. I just kept rubbing, rubbing, and rubbing. And it felt damn good, too; I couldn't stop myself. I had encased a circle using my thumb and index finger around my penis, and in the rhythmic motions up-down, up-down, I stroked away. It was okay for the most part; I felt it was customary to indulge in this little escapade. It wasn't just Carl's image in the workings; there were also some of the manipulations of the naked women. Then the entire point of view shifted to nothing but Carl in my world, and that's when things start to deteriorate.

I began to focus on Carl and only him alone; I didn't think much of it at first. I just kept going, but then the thoughts of him nude at the lake resurfaced. And then everything else that had been a possible attempt to get me off turned into a sprinted race to my orgasm. Everything else flew out the window; I didn't care about anything else other than getting to the point of no return. Afterwards, I did feel horrible. I felt bad, viewing Carl like a piece of meat, and it felt wrong. Not healthy, and it made me wonder if Carl looked at these woman like this too. They don’t deserve this, them or Carl. Nobody should.

Sometimes when I do it, I feel awful after fulfilling it, but with Carl, it felt sickening. I don't know why; it just did. I didn't want to do it to him of all people. But I was so goddamn determined that I forgot all about what was morally right.

Anyway, the group assembled today. All of us were there, including Emma. For the first time in God knows how long she wasn't overbearing. I think she was more toned down because the lake incident. She still flirted with me occasionally, but it wasn't to the point where I'd consider… yuck girls are gross. We sat in the restaurant and ate, talked about places we could hang out during the summer, and a funny talk came from Eli about making a film. The idea of zombies, blood, and guts was brought up for the most part, and for the first time, Ross was actually disgusted. I think the talk put him off his food. We all started conversing freely about it, which sounded like a pretty goddamn good idea, but Ross got a little squeamish. So, I asked the group to stop talking about it. Sure enough, they did. However, Ross felt a little awkward afterwards because he had killed the fun for the entire group.

I sat across the table from Carl, and I kept contemplating about, you know, my frenzied masturbation session this morning. Yeah... I felt the guilt of breaking the banks of the river and floating over the levy. I don't know why, but I felt even more confused than what I had done this morning. I guess the act itself was simple: I did that, and I came. Though the reason as to why I did it remains unknown. Still, the idea of the magazine lingered in my brain all day and as painful as it is for me to admit, I stole. I don't mean I took or borrowed the way I said when I acquired apples from the church grounds.

No... This time I stole something that wasn't mine.

I was in complete meltdown, and I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted or what I was supposed to get out of it.

After the gang had split up, I gave Ross my money so that he could get us some sweets and drinks. And I went down to one of the small local grocery stores. Thank God that the people behind the till did not know me; I don't intend to ever go to that shop again. I nervously walked in the door and kept my head directed at the floor. It was partly from shame and guilt, knowing what I was about to do.

As I navigated around the aisle, I passed the bread on the shelves and the crisp, refreshing chill from the refrigerators which held the milk. Directly following them, I came to the magazine stand. I contemplated it, sure. I knew it wasn't right to steal, and I knew that this was not in me, but I think curiosity took over more than anything else. My heart was pounding in my chest. The nerve by my jugular was throbbing with anticipation, and just like that, I peered down at the magazines. However, I kept my eyes brooded to the top of my eyelids, making sure that the person on the cash register was caught up in what they were doing.

I glanced through some of the magazines; I pretended to pick up publications that were appropriate for someone my age. Though the porn magazines were right there, I didn't dare pick them up just in case the person behind the counter came over to me and caught me with it in my hands. I kept looking at the colourful gossamer paints on the front cover of a woman's magazine. I subconsciously picked it up to pretend that I was looking at it even though I had no idea what I was looking at. Then someone came in; they were obviously a regular. He knew the shopkeeper by name, and he struck up a conversation. I figured that this was my moment; I glanced either way, and in a heartbeat, I swooped up the porn magazine and stuffed it into my hoodie. I then walked fast, but not too fast, to get the hell out of there. I knew that if I paced extra quickly, I probably would have raised suspicion.

I can't believe I got away with it.

In all the movies I've watched, it's the kids who seem to get caught or chased by the shopkeeper, but I wasn't detected. The man behind the counter never even batted an eye. I now have an adult magazine in my possession that I would not know how to explain to my Mam if she found it. No joke.

After I stole the magazine, I made my way back to Ross. He was still at the counter in the candy shop. The establishment was quite busy today, which gave me the time to pick up what I needed to pick up. When I saw that he was near the end of the queue, I made my way into the shop and waited by the door for him. When he came away from the till, his face lit up.

God, was it cute.

Ross bashfully handed over my share of chocolate, jellies, and crisps. The two of us snacked on the stuff all the way home, and it was neat for the most part. When we got back to my house, we decided to hang out for a little bit. Ross said he wanted to hang for a while outside, preferably because the weather was good, and I said, "sure."

Now, before I hung out with him, using the excuse of having to go to the bathroom, I ditched the magazine in my bedroom. I safely slid it under the mattress to ensure it would be there until I got back to deal with it. Then I made my way back down. When I went back out the front, Ross had disappeared. Then the sound of playful, energetic gossip was music to my ears when I tuned into it. It sounded like my Mam and Ross. I made my way around the side of the house where my Mam was working on a flower bed.

Ross was casually having a conversation with her. One thing led to another, and we decided to help my Mam plant the flowers. We worked precariously under the evening sun. It was sweltering work, but in a way, it was a good day's work, if that makes sense. Although my hands are a little raw from the constant chafing of the shovel rubbing my hands.

I'm okay with how today turned out, minus the stealing part.

However, around 5 PM, my Mam went inside, and she said that she'd start dinner. That left Ross and me outside to talk more or less. The two of us were crouched down, each handling the last of the flowerbed. Ross was on one end of the plot and me on the opposite. The silence that lingered between the both of us begged for some form of communication to transpire.

After what felt like an eternity, Ross finally asked, "So about yesterday, did you really mean what you talked about yesterday?”

I had to think for a moment, but then a rang bell, "You mean about places we can explore?"

Ross just continued digging a small hole in the moss peat, followed by widening the gap with his bare hands, then stuffing the flower into the ground.

"Yeah, about the places. You did research or something?"

I guess you could say I was a little embarrassed when he asked that. It's like he knows me all too well because Ross seems to understand what's going on in my mind at any given point in time. However, I guess it didn't help my cause any further. I had nothing to hide from Ross; I felt that honesty was the only thing I could offer.

So, I caved and just said, "Yeah. I wanted to find someplace cool to bring you."

I reflected a moment, and then I decided to break the silence again, "What I really wanted to say was, I want to bring you out. Because you brought me out... I think, and I want to try it this time. Make it special... you know?"

When I write it down and reread it now, it sounds so cringy. It's times like this I secretly hope that there is a guy out there somewhere in a small room, with a dim orange light shining down on a table. And beneath the lamp is a contraption assembled underneath a giant magnifying glass. And in years to come, that man will have somehow miraculously come out and claim that he has made a device that can rewind time. I'd buy that; I'd buy it no matter the price because when I read that part back, I'd happily rewind time.

I guess my response was jittery, ill-timed, and very immature. I don't think I was ready to ask Ross out, but still, nonetheless, Ross just giggled to himself.

"You want to take me out?" Ross asked with surprise.

I just shrugged my shoulders and nodded. I had forgotten how to speak. Nothing else came to my mind; everything else filtered out. If I had a heartbeat or if I was sweating, even breathing at that point in time, I guess I forgot to do it.

Though I was relieved when Ross said, "You truly want to take me out. No joke?"

When the second time came around, I jittered out a nervous, “Yea… Yeah… I'd love that."

Ross just smiled and bobbed his head from the side and said, "I'd like that."

My heart fluttered in my chest. I got so happy that I tore through the rest of the planting. Now, I definitely have to arrange a date. So, what does that make me? Are Ross and I still friends, or are we going steady or... or... are we boyfriends? Yeah, that's a scary thought— boyfriends. As much as I'd like Ross to be my boyfriend, I'm scared of actually having a boyfriend or girlfriend. But, boyfriend, for now, it's a lot to process.

After dinner, Ross retreated home, and now I'm sitting here writing this diary entry. I should take out the porn magazine and examine it. I promise I will not do any funny business with it; just plainly study it, you have my word. I'm only noticing now that my blinds are open, and the creepy thought of Thomas with his telescope has just resurfaced. I am going to get up now a close the blind before I look at the magazine.

PS: My Mam hasn't said anything about my diary or Ross and me being different; I guess she didn't read my journal, but let’s hope it stays that way.

Good night,

Adam