As They Say - (Revised) - 43. Entry 56

27th June 1991:

Today was somewhat weird; we had a BBQ over at Eli's house. Eli knocked ahead of time to reveal his big plans for the day to me. From there, the both of us stopped in for Ross. While we were sitting at the table waiting for Ross to stumble sleepily down the stairs, I had a sudden realisation that I didn't know Ross's birthday. I never asked before, and I'm not sure why it didn't occur to me as an obvious thing to learn until now. As I sat in the chair and watched every second of the clock tick upward, I began to become jittery about what had happened yesterday, and all these thoughts floated around my head.

Will Ross hate me for what had happened? Will he think I'm sick or something for grinding against him like that? Is Ross embarrassed about what happened? What if he wants to do it again? Does that mean we are a couple? How do I talk about yesterday without talking about yesterday?

All that said, he pushed back, didn’t he?

I shouldn't have done it; even when Ross came down the stairs, he had this weird aura about him. It wasn't as if he was annoyed at me, or the fact of what I had done grossed him out to the point where he wasn't talking to me anymore. Instead, Ross just seemed incredibly happy for a time until he grew quiet, then we parted ways before the party.

Let me explain. I initially sat at the table and sought a way to escape the dreadful silence. So, to ease that awkwardness, I asked Ross's grandmother when his birthday was? It was just what I was thinking, and I felt that this information would have been ideal to know.

When his grandmother said 8th July, I began to get all these little tingles inside my stomach at the concept of actually throwing Ross a birthday party. So, he was born in 1977, the same year as me. Though I'm the 17th of September. I found the notion astonishing for some bizarre reason; it was almost as if I was assuring myself that he had never had a birthday before. I know that is unlikely, so I concluded that I could host Ross, a surprise party.

His first ever in Ireland at that.

Then again, I'm not too good at keeping surprises. Perhaps, just maybe, I can make it that long without giving all the details to him.

On the contrary, Ross was in as bright a humour as one can be. He smiled so damn hard all the way out to where our bikes were stored that his teeth showed. It's funny to think that he just keeps my bike these days. I didn't ask for it back or anything. Ross just holds onto it for me; it's like the bike was made for him and him only. Then again, I don't think I'd want it any other way. I want him holding onto it. It is my way of being helpful to him, even though it doesn’t mean all that much to me to give it to him.

So, as we mounted the bikes, Eli dropped the bomb on me that he was getting all the boys together. Eli said that he and Ross could pick up Carl and the Conner. The ironic part was that I got lumbered with having to pick up Thomas. We all know that he has no bike; not since he went over the handlebars in town. After that, his mother took the bike away. She said that the contraption was a danger to society and that her precious son would no longer ride on such a rickety invention.

It's times like this that I wish that Thomas had a bike, but I'll get to that in a moment. Figuring that I would have to hitch Thomas along, I returned home, went into the garage and rummaged through a box of my junk. Once I found stunt pegs, I attached two of them to the rear framing of the bike. I got the pegs for my little cousin when she'd come down this far from Dublin. My mam never liked the idea of my cousin standing on the pegs of the bike because she is unstable on her feet. Plus, my aunt doesn't trust me to ride safely. So as a way of working it out, I had a rebar framing added, and I can add a seat off and on whenever someone needed to use it. They've been sitting in a box for months, so it feels like this moment was made just for them. Also, I don't feel comfortable with Thomas leaning against me on a bike. Once the pegs were mounted over the rear tire, I took off toward Thomas’s house.

From the offset, I was uncomfortable when I knocked on Thomas's front door. I tried to keep an open mind, and I worked really hard not to seize up and become put off by the thought of Thomas liking me. Why else would Thomas invite me out? Not to mention what happened at the lake and the telescope.

Is it that obvious?

What happens if others know?

Not that Thomas is not good looking, but he’s not the one I want. He’s just too plain, and I don't think… Bleh. Thomas is not the right person for me; that's all I know. I'm not sure why this is even coming to the forefront because I'm not even sure Thomas is interested. Thomas did grab me by the wrist and ask me out, and it seems like he is trying to show off all of the accomplishments he has gotten over the years. Perhaps Thomas is trying to win my approval or something; argh… man, now what do I do about this problem?

As I was saying, I knocked for him, and Thomas opened the door. I couldn’t help but notice that his folks’ car was not in the driveway. That meant Thomas was all alone, leaving the awkward social interactions at the mercy of us two inept human beings. It is comforting to know that Tommy didn't invite me in for a drink this time around. I would have died from the uncomfortable surroundings. Thomas was already dressed, so I just waited for him to put on his shoes, and we were set to go. Thomas leaned/sat on the seat of my bike with his feet resting on the pegs. I hadn't planned for him to do that, but I didn't protest. Thomas got on so awkwardly it was bound to make me laugh. Well, both of us cracked a smile… Perhaps that was his mission: to make us laugh so that he can win his way into my heart without me noticing. Soon enough, Thomas turned frontward then placed his hands around my stomach in the form of a coil loop. He then locked himself to me; it wasn't too tight at first, so I cycled on, taking in the blissful silence.

Eventually, Thomas asked, "You looking forward to tomorrow?"

I had completely forgotten that I had agreed to go to this film with him, and I groaned in silence to myself. I listened to his overzealous enjoyment behind me on the bike.

"I suppose," I said gently.

I don't think Thomas heard me. I was concentrating on peddling, and I didn't want to think about the weird thing that was going on between us. I don't want to give him the wrong impression. I'm just trying to be nice, and I don't want to hurt anyone. So, unsure if he heard it, and since I cared about his feelings.

I said, "It’ll be fun.”

That’s when Thomas clung to me a little tighter than I was comfortable with. I can understand if we were going down a hill or something, but he was beginning to squeeze me, and he was very close to me on the bike. It was weird because most of the boys just hold onto me at the shoulders; he was doing something entirely new in my book.

Thomas mumbled a drawn-out, "Yeah."

I tried tuning out to Thomas; I tried focusing on the birds. They are annoying when they caw, chirp, and sing. Even if there is a longing for some sound, birds will never disappoint. We passed the hill in the O' Neil's field and flung around the bend by Brady's Farm when Thomas stuttered about with his dialogue.

It was a little like, “Hey eh… would you maybe wanna come back to my house after the movie…. for… for a sleepover?"

My heart raced; my brain got to all the what if's, buts, and more importantly, what it all meant. I started to get all flustered, being without a reply, and Thomas was holding onto me pretty tightly. It was nice being held that way; I felt a little mushy, so I subconsciously agreed. But I felt pressured for a response.

"Ugh… I guess that would be okay,” I said.

I should have kept to myself.

Why the fuck did I agree?

Why can't I just say no?

Though how bad can it be?

I'll be like a complete asshole if I stop by his house again and say that I can't stay the night. I could do it tomorrow before the movie. Oh, wait… then that would ruin the movie experience for both of us, which would make Thomas sad, and that is not something I want to do.

What would happen if I did it after the movie?

I bet that would look worse. It would be like saying you are worthy of the film but not worthy of the sleepover. Now I feel compelled to go through with staying in Thomas's house for a frickin' night. For fuck sake.

Sigh…

Do you know what he said to that?

Thomas just snuggle-hugged me from behind, which felt really out of place, but then the hug subsided, and he held onto me harder. I was sore, actually.

Thomas said, "Awesome. I have lots planned for us to do in case we get bored."

I am now abundantly aware that Thomas has a crush on me. Nobody tries so hard like this to be liked, do they? Well, I have never known Thomas to do this; he is just silent Thomas. He sits there taking in what everyone is saying, follows along and maybe if you’re lucky, you might get a sentence out of him every once in a while.

I have no idea why our group just took to him, but he has a dull personality, and it is easy to approach him. The last few days, I've gotten more conversation out of him than all the lads have ever gotten out of him in the previous year.

It got so uncomfortable afterwards; the silence grew so thick that I desperately wanted to hear Ross's voice. The pain from Thomas holding me tightly was off-putting. I asked him to loosen the grip. Thomas did, and we just cycled on, but I felt weird until I got to Eli's house, which was a relief.

When I settled down beside Ross, Eli started up a small BBQ under the supervision of his dad, who was working on a project from the shed. Not long after that, we ate. Whatever transpired with Thomas and me on the way over there was somewhat forgotten. Well, I think, but something tells me that it is not going to be the last I'll hear of it.

The food was lovely, and the day was great. I got my turn on the BBQ to make some cocktail sausages and nuggets, but the burgers were the best bit. So yeah, now I'm home, safe and sound from the bustle and away from Thomas’s prying eyes. I shut my blinds, and I’m secretly scolding myself for making matters worse by saying yes.

I should learn to say no.

I mean, how hard can it be to say the word? In my case, apparently, it’s complicated.

Anyway,

Night