As They Say - (Revised) - 41. Entry 53 & 54

24th June 1991:

Okay, I have a couple of things to get off my chest today, and I'm not in the mood to be criticised if it's right or wrong. Firstly, I thought it through… I'll go to the film with Thomas just as friends. Well… I don't even know if he's hinting anything, but friends it is. I can at least give him that, right?

I dropped by Carl's today. He seemed to be in a grumpy mood. I tried talking to him about what was on his mind, but he got grouchy at me.

So, I'm like, "You seem off today... Everything all right?"

When Carl answered, it was more of a brushoff than anything else, and I couldn't understand why. When I decided to pursue the subject even further: by asking Carl in a playful teasing voice, "Are you sure. Is little Carl sure?" he just blew the roof off and tore me a new one.

“Dad expects me to do everything and now, you are expecting me to entertain you. I can’t get a fucking moment!”

I just decided to go home and cry, more or less. I didn't feel like making an effort to entertain Ross because what happened today hurt.

Anyway, to make things worse, I thought jerking off would've made everything better, but it didn't. I did what I was not supposed to do under any circumstances. I thought I made up my mind never to do it again. I'm disappointed in myself. Sure, the outcome with Carl today was sad, but what followed later this evening put everything down for me. I used Ross's underwear. And I know what you're probably thinking... How do you "use" underwear? Well… Sigh. This is embarrassing, but after I got horny, there was no going back. I took his underwear out, put them on a cushion and ground against it.

It felt so unbelievably good. You have no idea how good it felt. Before I knew it, I was humping the pillow, wishing it was Ross. When I finished, I had to go into the bathroom and wash the cum stain from the fabric before hiding it again in my wardrobe. I presumed I was past all of this, but apparently, I'm not, so I'm not sure what to do now.

I'll just go to bed.

I think sleep is probably the best thing for me right now.

Yeah… Rest.

I'm sorry. It's a funny thing that I'm apologising to a book; I don't have my heart in it to open up about what's wrong.

So, goodnight,

Adam

***

25th June 1991:

I found out today what was up Carl’s goat. He came to apologise early this morning. Carl said he approached a girl he liked, which he wouldn’t give me a name for. Nevertheless, Carl said he asked her out.

I wonder who the girl is; who caused him heartache?

Apparently, she's in our school. So, it could be one of about fifty girls. Carl decided to approach her and say that he liked her, and after he had been candid with her, she made a mockery of him. Carl said he was genuinely sorry about yesterday. It was just that he had done it that morning.

When I arrived, Carl wasn't in the mood for people. I can understand; if Ross did that to me, I would never want to see daylight again. I'd shut myself in, and I'd never come out again. The way Carl said it sounded as if he was confident in his strategy. He had prepared everything. Sadly, it didn't work out in his favour. I'm not sure whether this means anything, but I felt sorry for him. The hurt seemed the same regardless of the person. Carl is, after all, my best friend, and anything Carl goes through, I get the backlash of it… right

So yeah, that was that.

We made up, hung out for a little bit chitchatting about small-time things, and then he left.

I made up my mind about going to the cinema with Thomas. So, I cycled all the way over to him this morning to let them know I'd be coming along. I hope I didn't pass any weird mixed signals because that is not something I want to send on to Thomas. Then again, I'll know another gay in the village: but I hope he does not think my friendliness is showing any advances. Though this is just observation, and I tend to run statistically on that presumption. When I got to Thomas's house, I went up to the front door and knocked. The moment Thomas opened the door, his face lit up. I don't think he was expecting me to be standing on his doorstep.

I got the impression that Thomas felt the awkwardness I felt about being there. You know that sort of feeling when you neglect someone's company you don't care about, and they pick up on it.

Yeah, well, that's the way I felt...

Well, not the way I felt... But I hope I'm not giving him that impression.

Thomas is not the worst in the world; he's just weird, but I guess odd is better than being a dick. I didn't plan on staying for as long as I did. I just wanted to pass a few hours and then leave. Something about how Thomas handled himself today made it increasingly impossible to say no. It was abundantly clear that he wanted me to hang around for a short bit.

After his beaming face lit up, I set out to say my piece before he'd go all googly or something on me.

I said, "Hey, man... I can go with you to the cinema to see the film."

Something about the whole moment was whimsically too good to believe. Thomas blinked his eyes and shook his head; then, another smile emerged on his lips.

Thomas blabbed out, “Oh… Cool, okay... Really... You mean it?"

Thomas stood there dumbfounded; I didn't specifically know what I was supposed to do other than shrug my shoulders and say, "Yeah, totally."

There was a strange silence; in the distance, I could hear cows mooing.

"Anyway, I've got to go," I added.

I thought that would've been enough, you know? Breaking away from the door, I got on my bike wheeled along, but the trek down the driveway got cut short. Saying I had plans elsewhere didn't work like I imagined; Thomas reached out and followed me down the garden.

"Hey, eh… You want a drink or something?" Thomas asked.

I faced Thomas and most likely gave him a quizzical expression. I'm not sure why, but I questioned why he invited me in for a drink. Then again, I was a little bit thirsty. Still, I didn't want Thomas to know that he had my interest piqued. I simply wanted to be friendly. It would have been nicer to be able to say my piece and hightail it out of there. When I phrase it like that, it sounds terrible, but it's not. It's just that Thomas is different. He gives me this unsettling vibe; it's not overly obnoxious or horrible, but... I don't feel comfortable.

I don't know why I agreed to go to the movies. I didn't want to hurt Thomas's feelings. He is, after all, a nice person, and I think he deserves some respect. The idea of the telescope ran through my brain again. I didn't bother asking him. Instead, I wobbled on my bike, trying to contemplate what I was supposed to do. There I was at a complete standstill, my bike facing towards the gate. I could have made it out onto the road if I pretended I never heard him calling.

Even though I was thirsty, I didn't want to go inside.

I just said, "Em… I'm okay, thanks."

I launched my foot down on my pedal before he'd inevitably run out or something and kidnapped me. Thankfully Thomas didn't capture me that time.

Why did that thought just come to mind?

Hmm... maybe it seemed like an obvious statement to write at the time.

Thomas pleaded with me. He said, "Please... come in for a drink. It's really warm out, and you cycled all this way to tell me."

The way Thomas said it was so… so enthusiastic. Thomas was trying ever so hard just to impress me or to get me alone. When I think about it like that, it's a little creepier... but okay. I decided what would be the worst part of accepting a glass of orange or water from Thomas? I wobbled on my bike, flung my leg over the seat, kicked at the stand and started back toward him.

"Right, just a drink," I said sceptically.

Thomas's smile radiated outward. I could practically feel the electricity running through his veins. I've no idea why I cause such a chain reaction, but why in God's name would Thomas be so happy that I agreed to... I don't know, you know... go to a film with him? Agree to a drink too… You understand, right?

So Thomas was like, "Follow me," and all that shit.

When I got to his kitchen, I realised that his parents weren't home. It was just him, and the house was eerily quiet. Thomas poured me a glass of orange juice like I requested, then I sat on one side of the table and Tommy the other. I didn't know where to look; the kitchen was tidy, much more than mine. The Brenner’s take pride in the appearance of their house.

Our house looks more lived in, and I prefer that feel. Thomas's home resembles a show house. It doesn't have any character other than Thomas's bedroom and his treehouse. I tried making small talk, considering how quiet it was starting to feel.

I asked, "So where are your folks?"

Thomas shrugged, then placed his hands under his chin and cupped it. Leaning forward on the table using his elbows to support the weight of his head, Thomas intently peered at me.

"Out," is all he said.

Thomas continued staring at me awhile. I uncomfortably drank the orange in the glass he gave me. I tried to scan around, seeking to find something else to focus on or think of a good conversation starter.

Nothing came to mind.

I was more agitated and sceptical of what was going through Thomas's mind, so I decided to try and break the monotony of the silence because it was getting creepy at that point.

"Em… So..." I sighed. "How come we've never talked before... Or much? You know, one on one."

Thomas simply said, "I don't know... you are like cool and always busy."

I wasn't sure how to respond, so I sat quietly for a couple of seconds, finished off my drink, and then said I had to go.

Glumly, Thomas said, "Okay."

And I left.

On the way home, I wasn't precisely sure what had just transpired, but all that silence was more confusing than talking. Why was he looking at me that way? Thomas has never really stared at me that way. He's not like you know...interested in me, is he? That seems weird somehow or another. How could anybody like me?

Oh, wait, Ross admires me, well, I think.

Speaking of Ross, I went to see him next.

After I cycled home, I collected him, and the two of us decided to go biking for the afternoon. I stopped at the hill on the way home. We thought catching the sunset would be nice, so we sat down after walking across the field. Thankfully, there was no bull in the area. Ross and I got talking about his parents. He was discussing how his parents had been fighting a lot before he even came here. Ross said that he always wanted them just to make up and go back to being normal, but that never happened.

Ross said, "They don't even know I exist anymore."

When I asked him to explain what he meant, Ross said, "They’re too busy fighting. Both of them are trying to ruin each other. While doing that... they forget all about me because they're too busy trying to get the better of each other. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to be both of their weaknesses or something, but I’m sick of being powerless."

Ross got a little teary-eyed, and my heart began to sink. I was on the verge of crying, too. Even though I wasn't experiencing what Ross was feeling or is going through, I care about him.

"They'd probably be better if I wasn't around..." Ross added.

I racked my brain for the limited knowledge I have of domestic warfare. I don't think I did it right, but I made Ross feel like he was understood. I'm never any good at words.

So I said, "You exist to me. I can see you. I feel like I'm a better person when I'm with you. So, why would you ever want to be gone? They don't know what they're missing. I know this might be a little selfish of me to say... but in a way, I'm happy. Everything is shit for you, but if none of this hadn't happened, I would've never met you. Whatever they're going through, I hope it works out in the long run. I don't like to see you sad; that's the last thing I like seeing. I know you can't stay here forever; you belong back at home. But I want you to know... that no matter where you are in the world, to me, you will always exist."

The two of us sat there quietly, unable to answer, unable to speak. Eventually, a little sniffling and the nudge of a hand by my side took me out of my trance. I locked fingers with Ross to comfort him during a difficult time.

We sat there until the sun disappeared and cheered each other up. It's the proudest thing I have ever done. I'll remember this day for as long as I live, but now I should go to bed. I'll probably dream of today.

Did I mention that I cried a little writing the last paragraph?

No? Of course not.

Now you know.

I'm going to head off to bed.

Night,

Adam