Shades of Adrian Gray - 6. Chapter 6

THEN

“Evan! Phone,” my mom yelled from downstairs, for the third time.

“Just a minute,” I hollered back. Again for the third time. Cuz you know, we hadn’t communicated this properly the first two rounds. When you’re naked, soaking wet from the shower and still hunting for a clean towel, ten seconds really isn’t enough time to change the situation, but try telling her that and you’d get ridiculed for taking longer than a girl to get ready. My mother long ago mastered the art of inhumanly fast grooming and never lost an opportunity to rub it in dad and my faces. Sometimes I swear I’m the most mature member of my family. I finally found my towel under the dirty clothes I’d just changed out of - always the last place you look - loosely wrapped it around my waist and tripped out into the upstairs hallway. I slammed into my dad on his way downstairs and the towel dropped to the floor.

“Easy there sport,” he laughed. “We’re not hosting a nudist convention here.”

Seriously. It’s not easy being more mature than your parents.

“You’re showing your age, Dad. Nobody says sport anymore,” is all I managed by way of retort. I blushed and beat it to the relative safety of my room. Readjusting my towel, I grabbed the extension off my nightstand, and finally bothered to wonder who the hell was calling me at the house instead of just hitting up my cell.

“I got it Mom,” I bellowed. Her exasperated sigh rang loud and clear through the phone in my hand. Fine, I didn’t need to yell. Message received. Jeez. I waited for the click that would signal when she hung up, but it never came. “I thought you said eavesdropping was rude, Mom.”

“Oh, now he listens to me,” she muttered, but got off the line. Even from a hundred feet away she still managed to get the last word. Christ.

I exhaled heavily, half annoyance at my family circus and half to catch my breath from the ten meter dash away from paternally witnessed humiliation. Flopping back onto my bed at the same time, most of my sigh made its way into the phone. “Hello?”

“Helloooo,” I tried again, stretching it out when silence lingered.

“Sorry,” a familiar voice chuckled at last. “Just enjoying my sneak peek into the inner workings of the Foster family unit. Your mom interrupt you jerking off, or what?”

“Adrian?” I bolted upright. It was the first I’d heard from him in the two days since I made a complete fool out of myself with our ’first date,’ and the mere sound of his voice had my pulse racing faster than even accidentally flashing my father got it. Pathetic much? “Uh no, nothing like that. I was just taking a shower is all.”

“I bet you were,” he laughed suggestively and my skin tone achieved whole new shades of red. Wait, what? That didn’t even make sense. What the hell was I blushing for?

“Yeah, umm…so what’d you want?” Shit. That was rude of me. Now he was going to think I wasn’t glad he called. Not that I was glad he called. Crap, I mean, not that I wasn’t glad he called, but it wasn’t like I was waiting for him to call or anything. Ugh. I got up and walked over to my mirror, just to check and make sure I wasn’t growing breasts.

“Just calling to see if you’d be interested in going on a date with me, stud,” Adrian laughed again. “But I mean, if you’re not interested -”

“No!” I almost dropped the phone at my own outburst. And all the girls in my class thought I never went out with them because I was playing hard to get. Hah. “I mean, yes! I mean - wait, what? You want to go out with me?”

“Well yeah. Don’t sound too shocked.”

“Sorry, I mean -”, I trailed off, no clue what I actually meant. No clue what he meant for that matter. Didn’t he just yell at me two days ago for assuming he’d go out with me just because he was gay too? But then he had kissed me back, so he had to like me at least a little bit, right? Or did he just want to go out because he’d decided I was better than no one at all, like he said I was doing, which maybe I was doing. Did I even like him? I thought about kissing him again and my stomach did loop de loops…shit. This was so confusing. It was a bad idea. I should say no. I thought about kissing him again. “Yeah, I’m definitely interested. What did you want to do?”

Okay. My brain and my mouth really needed to start coordinating better.

“Well I’m home alone, and I thought you could come over and I’d make us dinner or something, maybe we could watch a movie.”

I frowned. “I thought you just said you wanted to go out.”

“No, I asked if you wanted to go on a date with me.”

“Going to your house doesn’t sound like going on a date to me.”

“Well it could be a date if we both want it to be one.”

“I dunno, man. You sure you know what a date is? I go to Neil’s house all the time and I’m sure not dating him.”

“Well at least I’m letting you know ahead of time that I think it’s a date. That’s more of a date than yours was,” Adrian laughed.

“You’re never going to let me forget that are you?”

“Nope.”

I groaned, but I might have been smiling a little too. “Fine. Still doesn’t sound like a date to me.”

“Well then we’ll just have to do things to make it more date like,” he lowered his voice and let a little rasp into it. My stomach did the flippy thing again. “Look, I’d really like to do the whole go out to dinner in a real restaurant thing, but that’s like…way public. I don’t exactly think either of us are ready for that, right?”

Crap. I hadn’t even thought about that. I sat down hard. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d managed to successfully hide the fact I was gay for sixteen years, hell even from myself most of the time, and I kiss this guy once and I’m so oblivious I’m ready to walk into a restaurant with the guy without even realizing hey. I’m with a dude. On a date. In public? Yeah. 007 I was not. Shit. What if we actually started dating? How was I going to hide it from Neil? This was such a bad idea.

“Good point. Okay, so your house sounds good. What time do you want me to come over?”

Maybe I should just stop talking. Take a vow of silence. Ooh! I could join a priesthood. Or be like a monk. A Tibetan monk who didn’t talk and just sat on a mountain being gay with nobody around to see it. Or kiss. Or make my head hurt. I liked this plan. I wondered if Mom would let me transfer to Tibet.

“Umm, whenever you want, I guess.” For a second there, he sounded as uncertain as I was. Score! Maybe I wasn’t a complete social moron and this was actually as confusing for him as it was for me. Maybe being this confused was normal! On the other hand, if he were as confused about this as I was, we were screwed. There was no hope for us. We should just give up now. How much are plane tickets to Tibet?

“Alright, cool. I’ll see you in a few then.”

I hung up and concentrated on settling my stomach. Damn. If we were going to date, I should probably try and get the hang of actually saying bye to him before hanging up. Except we weren’t dating. Slow down, Evan. You’re going on a date with him. One date. Singular. Because the last one didn’t count because it wasn’t a date because you’re a moron, and you don’t even know if you really like this guy yet. That’s why you’re going on a date with him.

Holy shit. I was going on a date. A weird, lame, just going to his house date, but still a date. I resolved to apologize to Neil for all the times I’d made fun of him while he got ready for his dates. I knew exactly how he felt now. Well, not exactly, cuz I wasn’t worried about if the girl was putting out - oh crap. What if he wanted to have sex?! I didn’t even know how to have gay sex! They didn’t cover that in sex ed. I should sue. I was going on my first date with a guy and I was totally unprepared.

I took deliberate, slow breaths before I gave myself a stroke. Time to calm down. I could do this. Other guys did this all the time. Hell, this should be easier, I was going out with another guy and everyone always said half the problem with dating was chicks were mental, right? We were both dudes. This should be a piece of cake. Right. First things first. Take a shower…just did that. Alright. What’s next. Get dressed…ok, crap. What do you wear when you’re dating a guy? Mom always got me these clothes for Christmas and stuff and made a big deal about how cute the girls would think I was in them, but what do guys think look good? My hand itched towards my computer. Delta Airlines was just a mouse click away.

Half an hour later, I finally dressed in my best jeans and a light green polo shirt. Totally not something I’d wear like, ever, but it was in my closet, it was clean, and at this point that was good enough for me. I gelled my hair up and put on the silver watch my grandmother got me but I never wore, and voila. Hey. I didn’t look half bad. See? I could totally do this. I grabbed my keys and raced downstairs, two steps at a time, and cut through the living room where my parents were sitting on the couch watching Law and Order. Or where my dad was watching it and my mom was pointing out all the things that were inaccurate in their portrayal of the legal system. Either way, they looked totally domesticated. Bet my dad never freaked out about what to wear on a date.

“You look nice,” my mom remarked innocently. I stopped in my tracks and suppressed a sigh. I should have gone through the kitchen. It might have sounded like a perfectly harmless statement, but we all knew better. It was an order. Stop and explain this unexpected development. I squared my shoulders and prepared to face the inquisition.

“Going over to Neil’s?” She asked casually. I narrowed my eyes. She knew I wasn’t going over to Neil’s, not dressed like this. Her lips twitched as she fought to suppress a smile. Dad wasn’t even bothering to hide his smirk. He’d put the TV on mute and settled back to watch the real show.

“No,” I informed them loftily. I refused to stoop to their level. I would do this with dignity. “Actually, I have a date.”

It was only then that I realized that the only person who’d called me all night was a boy. And mom had answered the phone. Shit. Damage control, damage control! “I mean, a double date. My friend Adrian and I are going with these two girls. Well I mean, there’s this one girl. But he knows her and set it up for me and he’s coming too. With his own girl. I mean, date. Who’s a girl.”

Yeah. I was totally smooth. James Bond, eat your heart out.

“Sounds like this girl has got you pretty flustered,” my dad observed, still grinning. “She must be something.”

“You have no idea,” I mumbled. He laughed, but my mom finally took pity on me and smacked him in the shoulder.

“Alright, let’s leave him alone. We don’t want to break him before his big date. He’s not going to make a very good impression if he swallows his own tongue before he even gets out the door,” she teased. Tibet was looking better by the second. “Now honey, you know how we feel about sex before marriage, but we also understand what it means to be a teenager, so - if you need any condoms, please tell us now. We’re more concerned about your safety than anything else.”

Oh god. “I’m going to be late,” I squeaked out. I hit the front door running, 0 to 60 in three seconds flat. The door slammed shut behind me, cutting off my dad’s earth shaking laugh.

It really sucks being more mature than your parents.

********

“You have got to be kidding me.”

Adrian and I both said it at the same time. But then, there really isn’t much else you can say when the guy you’re there to go on a date with opens the door and you’re both wearing the exact same outfit. We erupted into nervous giggles. I mean regular old laughter.

“So how long did it take you to figure out what to wear?” Adrian asked knowingly.

“About half an hour.” I shrugged like it was no big deal. My eyes started to drift down towards my shoes, but I caught myself and snapped them back up. There was going to be none of that. I was here, and I was on a date, and I was going to stop acting like a five year old girl, dammit.

“It took me an hour,” he grinned sheepishly. My eyes widened more at the admission than the actual timeframe.

“Seriously? Wow. Well, I mean, you look good.”

“Thanks,” he blushed. It was the first time I’d seen him do that, and I relaxed. Yes! I wasn’t the only one who did that! “You look good too.”

I blushed, and the status quo reasserted itself. Aaaaand we’re back to normal. “So, we going inside, or -”

“Oh, right! Sorry! Damn, I’m a moron. Come in!”

I followed him inside and he shut the door behind me before leading me to the kitchen. Everything looked pretty much the same as the one other time I’d been there. Jeez, had it really been almost two months ago? I couldn’t believe it’d taken me so long to actually get up the nerve to talk to him again - and then we got to the kitchen and I completely forgot where I was going with that thought.

“Wow.” It was pretty much all I could think to say. I hadn’t been in his kitchen the last time was there, and it was pretty state of the art. Big, with shiny chrome handles on everything, and black and white flecked marble countertops. A large island dominated the center of the room, and pots and pans hung from a box like structure set into the ceiling above it. The lights must have had a dim setting, as it was lit by a soft glow running around the edges of the ceiling. The black tiles on the floor soaked it in while the white tiles bounced it back and made it look like they too were lit from within. But I processed all of that in the back of my mind, just kind of blinked and took it in. It was the small table set against the French doors lining one wall that grabbed my attention.

Draped in a red table cloth, and set for two, a small candle flickered fitfully in the center. The place settings were what my mom would have called the good china, and it was better than the best we could afford. Silverware that was actually silver, and two faceted wineglasses that I suspected might actually be crystal, the way they refracted the light from the candle. Two large bowls were set off to the side, one filled with Caesar salad and the other brimming with spaghetti cooked in a meat sauce, or maybe a marinara. A small bottle of wine chilled in a bucket on the floor.

“You like it?” Adrian asked after I didn’t say anything else. I barely glanced at him before focusing back on the table. He looked nervous.

“Dude, when you said come over to your place and you’d cook, I figured you were talking about Hot Pockets or Ramen or something. I didn’t figure it’d be anything like this!”

He shrugged and ducked his head. “Well, I figured since we couldn’t go to a real restaurant, we could make it look at least a little like one. Sides, I really can cook.”

“I’ll say,” I marveled again. I took a seat at the table. The way he was right now, I didn’t think we’d ever sit down if I waited for him. Weird for me to be the one taking the initiative. I figured if anything, he’d be more comfortable here on his home turf. But then again, remembering how things went down the last time we were both at his house, maybe not. I studied him as he sat down across the table from me, thinking back over the few conversations we’d actually shared. I’d gotten so used to just thinking of him as being so much more sure of his sexuality than I was, that it was just finally starting to sink in that this actual dating thing was probably as new to him as it was to me. I cut my eyes back to the food before he noticed me staring. “Where’d you learn to cook like this?”

“Just taught myself.” Adrian grabbed a pair of tongs and started dishing the pasta out onto our plates. “Me and Kelsey have always been used to just doing our own thing, but she’s always spent most of her time at friends’ houses. I’ve always kinda preferred staying here. I mean, its not like I don’t have friends, but its not the same for me I guess. So after awhile, ordering pizza all the time got old, and I just kinda started messing around with different things. I dunno, its kinda fun.”

“That’s kinda awesome. I wish I could cook.”

“Really? You don’t think its kinda…I dunno, girly?”

“Dude, I burn soup,” I told him honestly. “And my mom’s not much better. If being a little girly is the price of actually having good food to eat, go for it, man.”

He laughed and relaxed a little more, and we started to eat in silence. The food was good, and I was enjoying it, but it was a little weird sitting at a table like that and not saying anything. But I think neither of us knew what to say. I know I was clueless on where to even begin. Plus, it didn’t help that we both kept sneaking glances at each other and shoving another forkful in our mouths whenever we were caught.

“What are we doing?” I asked suddenly. Yeah, not the most subtle approach in the world, but I didn’t intend for it to come out like that. I was just running out of food to cover with and it was just too weird sitting in the near dark like that. I’m not a quiet guy by nature. I’m not loud or anything, but I don’t do long, heavy silences. Too awkward.

“Umm, we’re eating,” Adrian eyed me. I think he knew what I meant though, because he put down his silverware and leaned back in his chair. At the very least he was as uncomfortable as I was. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, why did you ask me to come over here. To, go on a date with you or whatever we’re calling this. I thought you didn’t like me.”

“What?” He seemed genuinely puzzled. “When did I say I didn’t like you?”

“At the movies! When we had that whole thing.”

Adrian frowned. “Evan, I never said I didn’t like you, I said I didn’t know you. Or that you didn’t know me, I forget which one. My point was I didn’t want to be like, oh, we’re two gay guys, let’s be boyfriends now. Do you really think I’d have kissed you if I didn’t like you?”

I pushed a stray piece of spaghetti around my plate with my fork. “Yeah, I wasn’t real sure what was going on with that.”

“I kissed you because I do like you, and you said you liked me, and I asked you to go on a date with me so we could get to know each other better, so we could see if we actually liked each other instead of just thinking hey, he’s hot.”

“You think I’m hot?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh shut up, you know you’re hot, and I don’t think either of us go around kissing people we think are ugly.”

I wasn’t entirely sure I agreed with his reasoning - not that I didn’t think he was hot - but let it go for now. “Well, how do we get to know each other better if neither of us was saying anything?”

“Touche,” Adrian muttered. He fiddled with his own fork. “Look, I don’t know what you were thinking about me, but I’m as new to this as you are. I’ve never been on a date with a guy before either. I don’t know what to say.”

“Okay, so let’s just talk,” I decided. “We want to get to know each other better. Ask me a question. What do you want to know?”

He pushed his chair back and crossed his arms, stretching out his legs. “Umm, okay. How long have you and Neil been friends?”

“Since kindergarten. Some girl was picking on me, and he came over and kicked her ass.”

“Seriously?” He laughed when I nodded. “Big bad basketball star was getting picked on by a girl?”

“Hey, sports stars don’t hatch from eggs. We grow up from nervous little bedwetters that have to prove they’re big and strong,” I smirked. “Sides, the girl was a total ball buster. Still is.”

At his questioning look, I elaborated. “It was Vanessa. Neil’s new girlfriend.”

That earned a full blown laugh. “What a traitor!”

“I know!”

“Okay, so next question,” he got his breath back. “What do you want to be when you grow up?”

I raised my eyebrows. “Seriously? That’s the best you have?”

“Hey, I’m trying! I don’t see you asking anything,” he defended.

“Fine, fine,” I sighed. “Umm, honestly though, I have no idea. My mom’s always harping on me to try different electives and ’experience a fuller range of education’ whatever the fuck that means, but I just figure I’ve got a couple more years til college, I’ll figure it out then.”

“Really? Huh. I would’ve figured you’d say you wanted to be in the NBA or something.”

I snorted. “I’d love to be in the NBA. I’m just not good enough.”

“What’re you talking about? I’ve seen you play, you’re great!”

“Yeah, for a high school player. How many high school basketball players actually go on to play in the NBA though? Nah, I’m good, but I’m not that good. I can maybe play for a Division III or maybe even a Division II school in college, but that’s about it. It’s cool though, I play because I love to play, not because I need to.”

“Huh.” He digested this. “That’s cool. I mean, you’re right. Everyone always talks about playing professionally but barely anyone ever actually makes it. I just figured, you know, cuz everyone’s always saying how you made Varsity so young, and everything -”

I interrupted him with a grin. “You just figured I had more of an ego about it.”

He grinned apologetically. “Well yeah.”

“It’s cool. I guess we really don’t know each other well.” He was watching me thoughtfully, and unlike before I wasn’t intimidated by his stare. I wasn’t making any bones about watching him either, so hey, progress. We can look each other in the eye now. Wow, it was like second base for nervous gay virgins. A thought struck me. “So, you’ve seen me play, huh? Like what you saw?”

He flushed, and I laughed. Busted. “Shut up. Its not like I went to the games just to watch you play. I just thought you were cute is all.”

“Whoa, hey! I am not cute,” I sputtered.

“Oh god, you’re not one of those guys who’s going to freak if I say things like cute, or beautiful, or gorgeous, are you?” He groaned theatrically. “You didn’t mind when I called you hot.”

“Well, that’s different,” I insisted. “Hot is flattering. Cute makes me sound like a puppy.”

“Oh yeah? Well I take it back then, you’re not cute,” he stood up and took his plate over to the sink. I caught a flash of a smug smile before he turned away. “When you’re all tense and worried about your masculinity, I think you’re downright adorable.”

“Bastard,” I huffed when he laughed. I grabbed my own dishes and followed him over to the sink. The better to hit him, but he saw me coming and ducked out of the way. “Fine. My turn to ask a question. What do you want to be when you grow up?”

Adrian backed away, eyeing me warily at the subject change. I held up my hands to signal truce, and he leaned against the doorway. A handy escape route, I couldn’t help but notice. Coward. “I guess I don’t know yet either. I like writing, I get really into politics, I just - I dunno. You’ll think its stupid.”

“I’ll think what’s stupid?”

“Promise not to laugh?”

“Umm, sure.”

“I want to be something that matters,” he said at last. He looked down and scuffed his foot back and forth across the tiles. “I just, I have this cousin. She’s a payroll manager. And every time I see her, I’m just like…that can’t be what you wanted to do, it can’t be what you went to school for. I don’t want to be one of those people who ends up just doing something because its convenient or because they can’t figure out what else to do, stuck in a dead end job that when they’re gone will be done by someone else who never wanted to do it either. I want to do something that matters, something that only I can do, something that people know, hey, Adrian was here, I want to do something that actually changes the world. Doesn’t have to be big, not saying I have to be president, it just has to matter, you know?”

“I know. I get it,” I told him softly. He nodded but didn’t look up, probably embarrassed that he’d actually said all that. I know I would have been. But then, I also knew I didn’t have the passion to say anything like that. I didn’t have anything I felt that strongly about. I hesitated. “If it helps, you already changed my world.”

Adrian snorted. “Oh please.”

“I’m serious,” I interrupted before he could write if off as mockery, a little annoyed at how quick he was to jump there. I didn’t do this whole vulnerable crap thing. I didn’t like it, I wasn’t happy with it, and if I was going to have to be it, he was damn well gonna get the picture. I took a deep breath and walked towards him. He looked ready to run.

“I’ve known I was gay since I was like, thirteen. I managed to avoid facing it for this long, if I hadn’t - you know, if that hadn’t happened the last time I was here, who knows how long I would have avoided facing it? People already think its weird that I never date, would I have started dating girls to throw them off? How far would I have eventually gone to try and convince myself I was really straight? Would I have ended up one of those guys who’s forty and married to a woman he doesn’t feel anything for just because it was better than admitting he was gay?”

I caught myself before I got too carried away. My voice had gone up and I was shaking. Maybe I had more passion in me than I thought. Maybe there was a lot about myself I didn’t know. Two weeks ago I thought I was straight after all. Huh. I had hidden depths. Who’d have thought? I drifted to a stop just in front of him and he finally looked up, staring at me as though he possessed some kind of meter for gauging my sincerity. His eyes were three different shades of green. I’d never noticed that before. “I’m really glad I met you.”

He licked his lips. His voice when it came out was thin and hoarse. “I’m really glad I met you too.”

His hand came up and traced the fabric over my stomach. My hand came up and glided over the skin of his forearm. I felt the muscle, felt the hair, brushed over it and felt it cling to my palm like static. It was nothing like a girl’s arm. It was a boy’s arm, through and through.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” I don’t even know which one of us said it. It hung there, hesitant, shaking, barely a whisper.

“Neither do I.”

His hand clutched around my shirt, mine grabbed the back of his neck. Our bodies meshed and pressed back against the doorway. Our lips pressed together, hands roaming everywhere. Touching, exploring, caressing. Fumbling, awkward, tentative, hopeful.

Maybe we’d figure it out together.