That Feeling - 9. The Party, Part II

I sit on the porch for another hour and a half. I haven’t dared go back into the house for fear of seeing Knox or Avery. They never came out. Carson came out briefly and hugged me again. She told me she loved me and that Avery was a bitch for what she did and that she half wanted to beat her up. But she was pretty drunk and stumbled back into the house after a while. Sara also came out and smoked a cigarette. She didn’t say much, only that Avery wouldn’t talk to her. She stared off into the black darkness of the lake, blowing cigarette smoke into the air. It lingered around the flood lights and the drifted off with the wind. And then she left. At about 12, Jake and a girl I vaguely recognize as a freshman come out onto the porch, giggling and falling all over each other like schoolchildren on acid. The girl trips and lands in a lounge chair and she pulls Jake down with her. They are both laughing hard, their faces red. He pushes his hand through her hair and she starts to kiss Jake and then he is on top of her. Her hand snakes to his crotch and starts feeling him up and down through his pants. His hands are now under her very short skirt, moving. As I watch, I want to puke. And I really want to go home. I decide it’s time to go.

I walk over to the lounge and stand above them. I feel like a stalker, but I don’t care anymore. I clear my throat. “Jake, I think it’s time to go.”

They continue their game, ignoring me.

I clear my throat louder and raise my voice, “Jake, I think it’s time to go!”

Jake rolls over and looks up at me. He’s smiling.

“Caleeeeeb! My bo-eeeee! Hey, Vanessa! It’s my bo-eeee Caleb! Do you know Caleb?”

The girl smiles. “Nuh-uh, baby. Tell me about ‘em.” She sits up, her legs spread open. I can see up her skirt. She isn’t wearing underwear and I cringe and look away.

He stands up, but stumbles, then puts his arm around my shoulder. He stinks of alcohol. “This is Caleb, muh best friend ever. Ever!” He pinches my cheeks. “Isn’t he cute?”

The girl scrunches her face and giggles. I can’t believe this. I’ve seen Jake drunk a hundred times, but never hours after making out with him. It hurts in a kind of way I’m not sure makes much sense right now, but maybe it will tomorrow after I think about it all.

“Jake, let’s go. You’ve had enough for tonight.”

“Nuh-uh, Caleb. Me and Valerie just gettin’ started.”

She giggles. “Vanessa! I’m Vanessa, Jamie!”

He giggles back. “Jake! It’s Jake!”

I shake my head. This is why I don’t drink. “Yes, I know how fun it is to fondle a complete stranger, but it’s time to go home.”

“Oh, you’re such a party pooper, Caleb!” The arm that’s around my back falls; his hand is near my butt. He starts to rub it gently. I look at him and he giggles. This isn’t right. I push him away.

“You his daddy?”

“No, Vanessa, I’m not. I’m his ride and it’s time for us to go.”

She frowns as he waves at her. I grab his arm and pull him toward the door; he’s looking back, waving and blowing kisses. And this is my life. The guy who kissed me, fingering a stranger on a lounge chair; the guy I want to kiss, kissing my girlfriend. No wonder I didn’t want to come out, because things are too complicated. When other people know something, it gives them ammunition they can use to hurt you, whether they know it or not. To be truthful is to be open to all the hurt the truth can bring. I’ve heard it said that the truth hurts, and it does, more than anything, because it leaves us vulnerable to other people’s own truths. Avery has a truth: she wants to be with Knox. Jake has a truth: he wants me. These truths hurt me. They’re open and they hurt, because it’s all so hard to keep together.

At the Jeep, I stuff Jake into the passenger’s seat. He keeps mumbling about Vanessa and I just wish he’d shut up. Once I start the engine and back up, he’s quiet for a while. I think he’s asleep as we wind up the dark streets making our way home. There’s an acoustic guitar playing on the radio. The singer sounds vaguely familiar and I hum along.

“That’s me.”

“Huh?”

“That’s my song.”

He’s talking low. I knew he played guitar, but I didn’t know he wrote songs. “You wrote this?”

“Yeah. With help from Carson.”

He seems less drunk. Or differently drunk. “I didn’t know you wrote songs.”

“Yeah, well, I guess there is a lot we don’t know about each other.”

He’s right. We’ve been friends for over five years and there is so much we haven’t said to one another. We’ve never been ones to talk about feelings and thoughts and stuff like that. Sure we hang out all the time, and Jake talks a lot. But it’s always inconsequential. Jokes about people or thoughts on which gun is better in Call of Duty or rumors about Sara’s sex life. Never the big stuff, like I’m gay or I like you or life sucks. But now, Jake writes songs. He’s looking out the window. I don’t say anything back. I want to. I want to say everything and I want him to say everything back and I want everything to be perfect. But it’s not and I don’t know what to say.

Fifteen minutes later, I hear Jake sigh. “Caleb…”

“What?”

“That girl I was with, Vanessa…”

“Yeah.”

He chuckles. “She’s a total slut. She really wanted to fuck me.”

“Jake, I don’t-”

“No, listen. She really wanted to. But I don’t know if I could have.”

“Okay.”

“Because sometimes I feel like I’m split in half, you know? Like, I see a really hot girl, and part of me wants to have sex with her like any other guy does. But the other part of me...doesn’t. The other part of me isn’t thinking about her at all, because it’s thinking about...about you.”

My heart beats faster. I wanted to talk about this, but now I’m not so sure. It all sounds so dangerous and he’s drunk and I’m trying to be okay, but this is something that can break it all down. “If this is about this afternoon, we can forget about it.”

He sighs again. “This isn’t about this afternoon, Caleb. Or this afternoon is only a part of it, okay. It’s just, I don’t think I could talk about this sober, okay. I just…”

“What, Jake? Just say it.”

“I like you okay! I like you a lot. It’s weird and it’s fucked up, but it’s the way it is. I-I don’t know what else to do about it.”

I’m shaking. “How long?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a little over a year. At least since last August. Maybe longer.”

“Why last August?”

“That’s when I lost my virginity to Harmonie LaDoux. I told you, remember.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“It was stupid. I didn’t know what to do with her. I guess it was okay, I mean, I came and she moaned a little. But it’s not the sex, it’s what came after. We just laid there and I felt so bad. Like I shouldn’t have done it. Like, it was a mistake. I should have been happy and excited or whatever, but I wasn’t. And later, I figured it was because Harmonie wasn’t the right girl. Because I just didn’t really like her. So I thought, ‘who do I even like?’ And I couldn’t really think of any one. Like, no one seemed even close. But I was only thinking of girls. Then all of a sudden I think of you. And I don’t know, I just felt something. It’s like, that thing that is always there right in front of you and you just walk past it every day and don’t see it because you take it for granted, but then one day you notice it and then you can’t help but see it every time. And the more you look at it, the more you want it, but you think you can’t have it. But then one day maybe you can.”

We’ve arrived at my house. I frown as I turn off the car. He’s thought about this a lot, and I don’t know how to respond. “But you still like girls?”

He’s not looking at me. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Do you even like guys besides me?”

He looks at me like he’s scared. “I don’t know. I’ve thought about that a lot. I mean, I guess. But...yeah, I guess I do.” He looks away. “It’s all so fucked up, ya know?”

“Yeah.” I get out of the car and walk around, opening his door. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to deal with this right now. We walk into my house and it’s dark. I tell him to go to my room and I go to the kitchen to get water. There’s a note on the refrigerator: “Hope you had fun! See you tomorrow…-Mom” I smile, because my mom is still clueless. She’s safe in her nest of carefully culled suburban bliss, with her sun tea and garden clubs and book clubs. She’s safe from feeling like nothing will ever make sense. I grab two bottles of water and go to my room. When I walk in, Jake is sitting on my bed in only his underwear. He looks up at me and has this weird look on his face. He stands and walks towards me. He smells like sweat and alcohol and sex. He’s getting closer and then he’s in front of me. He goes to kiss me, but I turn my head. He grabs me by the shoulders and pulls me towards him, but I pull back.

“Jake, no. I- just no.”

“Come on Caleb, just something. Just a kiss.”

“No. Not like this. You’re still drunk.”

He tries to pull me closer again, but this time I let him. He makes a sound like an animal. I put my hands on his bare chest. A part of me wants this. It really does. But I bigger part wants to vomit as I think about how forty-five minutes ago his fingers were up some girl’s vagina. I try to push him back, but only weakly. His arms are around me and I feel wanted and I want to feel good, but images of him kissing that girl are in my mind. His lips touch mine, and I can smell the alcohol. His tongue tries to part my lips, but I don’t let them. I break away. I pull off my shirt and jeans and jump into my bed. He seems confused and follows, but he’s still a little drunk and stumbles, falling into the bed. We’re both only in our underwear, me in black boxer-briefs and him in blue briefs and in this moment I find it all incredibly sexy. I feel lost in the jumble of sheets and I think of the semen I’d wiped here earlier and then he’s on top of me and his bare skin is against my bare skin and I want to faint. His lips smash into mine in a frenzy. He’s taking and taking and I’m giving it all and I can feel his hard-on rubbing against my leg. I moan a little and he is whispering in my ear how much he wants me. His breath smells like alcohol and he’s sweaty, but I don’t care anymore. He’s sucking my neck and I arch my back. I want every part of him touching me, every inch against every inch, but I know it’s somehow wrong. I want it, and it’s good, but in the back of my mind I know I shouldn’t. I know tomorrow I’ll feel like crap for this happening. I know it’ll all be shit when tomorrow we wake up and he pretends like nothing happened and then he leaves and I’m all alone. He told me, didn’t he? He said he couldn’t handle it when he was sober. He said that and I’m here anyways, wanting to crawl out of my skin as he plays with my nipples with his tongue. He’s moving further down and I know where he’s heading and I want it to happen. At this point I want it so bad it feels like I might explode. But it shouldn’t. It shouldn’t happen. I want him to stop but I can’t help but moan at the feel of his hands caressing my stomach. He’s looking up at me as his chin rests in my belly-button. He’s smiling, but I can’t smile back. I look away.

“Hey, it’s okay?”

“Yeah. Just- do it.”

I can feel his fingers peeling back my underwear. The air rushes in and he gasps and I inhale deeply. This is it and I’m here and there is no turning back and I think tears are coming down because it’s all so fucked up. I’m fucked up for letting this happen and I feel so many things at once as I feel his fingers come around my dick. He just holds it for a while. I look down. He’s looking at it like it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He looks at me and grins. I don’t know how to feel because this is all so good, but tomorrow it’s going to all be shit and how can I even handle that now. Because I know he likes me, but I know it’s useless. It’ll be useless and what can I even do about it. I feel his mouth come around the tip, slowly at first, and then faster, taking as much as he can in, and then all I’m thinking about is this little piece of flesh that’s been with me my whole life and here it is and it feels like a million volts of electricity are shocking through my body. I’ve never had a blow job, but this feels like heaven. Like heaven will feel one day. He’s sloppy and bad at it and occasionally his teeth scrape my skin, but I don’t care. It’s heaven, but then it’s over. I come into his mouth and it surprises him and he looks up at me, wiping his lips. He smiles and jumps back up next to me. He kisses me on the lips and then lays down next to me.

“How was it?”

“It was...amazing.”

“Good.”

We’re quiet for a while and when I look back over, he’s asleep. I sigh deeply. I’m digging myself deeper and deeper into this mess and how can I even dig myself back out. Because I’m not even completely over the fact that I’m gay at all, and now I’m letting my drunk friend give me blow jobs in my room. It’s all so fucked up. But the worst part is knowing that tomorrow, Jake will pretend like nothing happened. Like we came here and we laid in my bed and we fell asleep in a cloud of chaste and platonic brotherhood. I turn the opposite direction and fall asleep thinking about what just happened and what it’ll all mean when I wake up tomorrow.

The next morning I’m groggy and I can’t remember any of my dreams. Jake is sprawled on his stomach, lightly snoring. Light from my window is streaming in, making lines across his back from the blinds. I lightly trace my fingers down the ridge of his spine. His back is smooth and warm and I smile despite myself. He doesn’t move. I get up and make my way into the shower. The water is warm and it makes me feel warm, but I don’t feel any better at all. I’m confused, maybe more confused than I’ve ever been. I start to deconstruct everything so it can make sense. I’m attracted to guys. I’m gay. I like Knox. I am dating Avery. Cassie knows. Carson knows. Avery and Knox kissed. Jake kissed me. Jake gave me a blow job. The water is hot, but it doesn’t matter because I know it all. I know it all and I want the dead feelings to come and make everything feel meaningless. I want that because I don’t want to deal with any of it. I don’t want to feel so much and I don’t want to be confused, because I want Knox, but it’s useless. I’d like Jake, but I can’t understand what’s going to happen with that. Any pleasure or happiness I’d had with him are nothing because he’ll just pretend like it never happened. Because maybe in the end I’m just not good enough for anyone.

When I get back to the bedroom, Jake is sitting on the side of the bed in his underwear, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. I have the towel wrapped around my waist and stand against the closed bathroom door. I’m done with modesty at this point because Jake’s seen me naked a hundred times and now that he’s sucked me off, what’s the point?

He looks at me for a few seconds and sighs. “About last night…”

“What about it?”

“I- uh- I was drunk.”

“That’s it?” I feel mad, even though I knew it would be like this. Because who does he think he is? Because we all deal with our shit and we get through it the best we can; he can’t just pile all of it out there for other people to deal with.

“Shit, Caleb, all that stuff I said...what we- did- I was confused. I-I didn’t know what I was doing.”

My stomach drops. “You didn’t know what you were doing? It sure seemed like you knew what you were doing, Jake. And in case you didn’t catch that: what you did- to me. Not what we did. What you did.”

He’s frowning, shaking his head. “No! Caleb, it’s not like that!”

“You told me, Jake. You said you liked me. You gave me a blow job. A blow job, Jake.” I’m getting angrier and I can’t control myself and I feel like things are splitting in a million directions because it’s really my fault. He was drunk. I let it happen, but I can’t deal with that right now. I just fucking can’t.

His face is red now and he looks like he might pass out in the bed. He stands up abruptly and walks toward me. “Jesus, Caleb! Why can’t you understand? I. Was. Drunk.” He punctuates each word with his finger pointing at my face. The muscles in his chest are tense. “Whatever I did. Forget it.”

“Okay. Whatever, Jake.”

He sighs and looks at me. “Look, Caleb. I-”

“No, Jake. It’s...whatever. But I’m not playing any games, okay. If you don’t wanna ‘fess up to anything, then don’t. But I’m not playing any games.” I let the towel drop and walk over to my closet. I know he’s watching me and I like it. I want him to see because I want him to feel something. I want him to look at me and want me and feel like he’s lost me and can never get me again. I’ve never been his, not really, but maybe I can trick him and make him feel something, even if it is something bad. I slip on a pair of plaid boxers and some gym shorts.

“Caleb, I- I just can’t, okay. But I- I don’t want it to be like this.”

I turn around. He’s staring at my chest. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“Anything, Jake. What you told me last night. Just admit to something. I told you my big secret. What do you think, I’m going to tell everyone? Because I really don’t see how that’s even an option right now. I can get being afraid. I get that. I’m always afraid. I can get not wanting it to be true. I didn’t either. But if it’s true, it’s true and who better to tell than me!”

“It’s just- I- Ah shit Caleb!” He falls onto the bed. He has his hands over his face. “It’s just fucking hard, okay. I- I am so confused.”

I can’t deal with his shit when I have enough of my own to handle. I want to sit on the bed and hold him and tell him everything will be okay and maybe kiss him. But I’m not a perfect person and I’m selfish and truthfully I’d rather it be Knox laying on my bed, about to start crying. Maybe then I could be perfect and say perfect things sweetly into his ear as he cried in my arms. “Yeah. It is hard.”

I walk out of the room and down the stairs. My mom is at the dining room table with her sketchbooks and cloth samples. She doesn’t see me as I walk past. In the kitchen, Cassie is sitting at the breakfast bar on her laptop. She’s wearing her ballet clothes and her hair is pushed back with a large band. She’s eating a granola bar and sipping on water. She looks up and smiles weakly.

“Have a nice time last night?”

I get nervous. “What?”

“At the party.”

“Oh. Um. Not exactly.”

“Yeah, I heard what happened.”

“How?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is Avery was a bitch to do it. And Knox. Well, I want to cut his balls off.”

“It’s not like he knows about me or anything.”

“Jesus, Caleb! It doesn’t matter if he knows about you. He knows you and Avery are together, regardless of what your actual feelings about that may be. That’s Grade A jerk material right there.”

“I guess.”

“No. It is.”

We stare at each other for a second before Jake walks into the kitchen. He’s wearing a pair of my gym shorts and one of my t-shirts. His clothes from last night are in his hands. He stands there awkwardly, shuffling from foot to foot. His sneakers are untied.

Cassie gives him the once over. “Hiya there Jakey-boy.”

“Oh, Cassie, hey.” He looks up and gives her a small smile. I give him a hard look in return. “I, um, I’m gonna go, okay? See ya later, Caleb.” His shoulders are slumped as he disappears out of the kitchen.

“That was awkward.” I don’t reply, but I know she’s fishing. “Tell me, Caleb. Now.”

“What? There isn’t anything to say.”

“Jake acted like a little kid who just got popped on the hand.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Caleb-”

“Look, Cassie, I told you my big secret, okay! I’m not gonna tell you every little detail of my life, though. So, just- drop it.”

She scowls at me and I shake my head. She’s mad and I feel bad, because Cassie has been there for me. She is the first person I told and she loves me and I love her and I hate it as she walks into the kitchen telling our mother she’s ready to go. I hear them talk in the kitchen and I’m doing it. I’m tearing myself apart from it all and finding that place somewhere distant where I can hide and not have to see what is unpleasant and not have to know that things just keep getting more and more confused the longer I let it go. And I know it’s stupid and I need to stay here and sort out all the shit, but I can’t. I just fucking can’t. I’m standing in the middle of the kitchen, but I might as well be in Katmandu because I’m not here really. My mom walks in and stops in front of me.

“Is everything okay?”

I crash back into reality, even though I fight it. “Huh? Oh, yeah.”

She gives me a disbelieving look. Her hand grabs my shoulder and I cringe a little. “I don’t believe that, but I have to take Cassandra to her ballet practice. So...later, Caleb. Later.” She lets go and continues to walk through the kitchen. It feels like the bottom of my stomach might fall out. I’m alone again and maybe I want this. Maybe I made myself this way and maybe people look at me and know I’m fucked up. Later with my mom sounds like pure torture. Like, maybe I should just leave and hope to God it’ll blow over and the world will end because I don’t want a later no matter how much I want to be done with all the secrets.

I walk up the stairs and into my room. Closing the door feels like closing off a part of myself to the world. I fall into the sheets. All I can smell is Jake.