Ana - 5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

There is magic in the jarring and abrasive surrounded by soft normality. Break it down. Words are beautiful, every word. Each has a feeling, an idea, a memory, a smell, a personality. Idea is pensive; feeling has furrowed eyebrows and a hand to its chest. Memory’s eyes are perpetually staring through to the distance. You get my point, right? Yes, there is beauty in words.

The magic I’m talking about is the sense of extraordinary discovery, the tinted glow emanating from the combination of words that is just right. This is not common, of course, or it would be cheap. The best examples are poetry, especially lyrics. “Ms. Jones taught me English, but I think I just shot her son ‘cause he owed me money; with a bullet in the chest you cannot run.”

My heart fluttered a little, and I raised an eyebrow amidst the smoky room. The flutter only lasted a moment; it was the “you’re going too fast, stop. Good, now reset” type of flutter. I sniffled a little, and Andy turned his head to look at me. My eyes crossed as I looked at my nose while I wiggled it. He laughed at me, then poked the tip of my nose with a finger.

“Boink,” he said. My eyes narrowed before I smiled. In this room, I was almost feeling lost. Everyone was talking, and they were talking fast. I was the only one not talking a lot (though I will admit I did get in more than a few words edgewise). I was busy developing my theory of magic in the jarring and abrasive surrounded by soft normality. I was sinking, soaring, swimming, floating, flying, falling; all at the same time. If I didn’t know better, I would say I was God.

Andy kissed the tip of my nose that he’d just so recently assaulted, and I smiled again. He was right; I was having a pretty damn good time here. I don’t know if it was the people (most of whom I’d just met), or the pile of coke on the table. Oh, that delectably deviant devil’s dandruff of a drug. I also began to notice that when I was doing it, alliteration became a sport.

Andy’s crystal blues locked on my eyes. He leaned in close. I was sitting to one side of a corner of the table, he was on my right. No one else could see the earlobe he caught with his tongue and nipped playfully before he spoke.

“Come with me?” He asked it like a question instead of saying it like a demand. I shivered and nodded.

“ANDY!” Anna yelled. “Where are you taking my Seth?!” She advanced upon him menacingly. No, she had nothing quite as terrifying as a bendy straw. It was a paper towel roll, labeled in Sharpie “The Paper Towel Roll of Mercy!” complete with the exclamation mark.

“Nowhere, we’re going to get out of all the smoke for a minute,” he told her. She drew back, and flung the Paper Towel Roll of Mercy throwing-knife style.

“LIAR!” she yelled as the Paper Towel Roll of Mercy boinged, quite mercifully, off Andy’s chest. “You are making an attempt to corrupt my Seth’s innocence! He had better come back with his cherry!”

“He will, Anna, just please don’t have any more mercy on me,” he said. Her eyes lit up.

“You are asking for my mercy in refraining from bestowing mercy?! This calls for the Paper Towel Roll of—” Andy grabbed my hand and pulled me from the room before she could rearm herself.

“So where are we going?” I asked. Andy smiled with one corner of his mouth.

“You looked like you were getting bored,” he said. It was true. As much talking as was going on, it just wasn’t what I wanted to talk about. I was fixated on other things. “So, I thought we could go chill with just the two of us.” He led me to another room, this time with no one in it. The bed in the room was made, and the room felt cooler than the rest of the house. Andy closed the door as I fell back onto the crisp, cool comforter.

“Mm,” I let out a moan of contentment. My eyes closed, but it felt as if they were still wide open, like I could stare straight through the lids. I felt the bed shift as weight was added, and opened my eyes again. Andy leaned over me, looking with his head cocked to one side, just like his smile. His leg swung over me, and he was straddling me.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” I asked him. He leaned down and kissed my neck. Since he was taller he had to shift himself further down to get the right angle, but he shifted himself right into my lap. When his head came up, I knew from his face he did it on purpose.

“I want to play with you, Seth,” he said. His fingers tickled my sides and I squirmed. He grinned wide. “Feels like you want to play with me, too.”

“I don’t know if we should.”

“Why not? Is something wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing’s wrong. Well, maybe that’s what’s wrong, that nothing’s wrong,” I said. That thought had gotten stuck in my head ever since we’d come to the party. Why was this boy being so nice? Why was he treating me like he liked me? What was in it for him?

“Seth, it’s okay. You look nervous as fuck, your hands are shaking like crazy and your heart’s going a million miles a minute.” That was true, but I’d blamed it on the coke. Now that he mentioned it, though, I could tell the difference. Where my heart had been a steady flutter before, now it was a pounding. He rolled to the side and wrapped his arms around me. “We don’t have to do anything. We can just lay here if you want.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Mm-hmm. Sure can,” he said. I sighed and smiled before I pushed him onto his back and swung a leg over his to cuddle.

“You’re really cute, you know,” he started. “You’ve got such beautiful eyes, and your face has just the right angles.” I ran my knee from resting around his stomach downward, pressing just a little. It wasn’t difficult to find what I was looking for.

“You really know how to get laid, don’t you?”

“I was serious, and we really can just lay here if you want. Not if you keep doing that, though,” he said, his eyes closed and mouth slightly open.

“Doing what?” I pressed harder on ‘what’. He sounded appreciative, if you ask me.

“That, you cute little… well… very cute little…” he trailed off. I slid my hand over to the buttons on his shirt and started unbuttoning.

“You’re delirious, Andy. I’m not doing anything at all, and I don’t appreciate the insinuation that you doubt my virtue,” I said.

“How can you keep using big words at a time like this?” I undid the snap on his pants as he spoke, and felt around.

“I’m just gifted. And so are you!” I said. He was most definitely not lacking, but he did blush a little.

“So I’m told. This isn’t fair, you’re taking away my clothes and you still have all yours on,” he said.

“Well, go tell Anna on me, she’ll never believe you.”

“ANNA! Help! Seth’s stealing my clothes!” he yelled.

“Keep dreaming, he’s too sexy for you!” Anna replied.

“See? I win.” I laughed as I kept teasing his ear with my tongue. He moaned and pushed me off and onto my back. Seconds later, he was kissing me, before I had the time to register what he was doing. At first, it was just static. Just pressing his lips against mine, but then he started actually kissing me. It was better than anything I’d ever had; he kissed hard, insistent, and his hands were busy elsewhere. He knew to pull away every now and then so I could catch his breath and attempt to stop whimpering from what his hands were doing.

He sat up and I saw him pop out of his jeans flag-pole style while he yanked off his shirt and then reached for the bottom of mine. My hands flew immediately to his and I almost jackknifed off the bed from sitting up so fast.

“No,” I said, shaking my head.

“What? What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked, honestly clueless.

“It’s just, I mean, I really don’t like taking my shirt off in front of people.”

“Seth, you’re adorable, it’s okay. It’s just me, and it’s not like I’ve got mine on, and from how good of a kisser you are I don’t think I’ll be spending much time with my eyes open anyway,” he said, his hands putting gentle pressure on my shoulders. I leaned back, eyes closed, breathing hard. He slid the shirt up and off. “There, and I don’t see what you’re so worried about.”

“I just used to weigh more than I do now and I’m still fat and I don’t like it,” I told him. He mumbled against my neck as he kissed it. “Other people say I’m ‘cute’ because they know they’d be lying if they said ‘hot’, and I hate that. And I absolutely love that, whoa,” I said. His hand had found its way into my pants.

A while later we were lying on the bed catching our breath. It was amazing, best I’d ever had, and he was amazing. It just isn’t often that sex ends with me unable to quit smiling and laughing, and my breath refusing to come back. It was so goddamn thorough.

“Do you really think you’re not hot, Seth?” Andy asked me while I lay against his chest. I sighed.

“No, I don’t. I think I’m fat. I think a lot of people have just been nice about it and not mentioned it, but no one’s ever wanted to get so close to me until after I started losing weight.”

“Maybe it’s not just weight you’ve lost, you know. Maybe it’s part of that low self-image that’s going away, too. I mean, do you think I’m hot?” he asked.

“Hell yes, why the fuck do you think I just had sex with you? It’s not even just that you’re hot, it’s that you’re… well, you treat me a lot better than most people,” I told him.

“Does it really matter so much what other people think?”

“I don’t know. I guess not, but a lot of what I want depends on other people,” I said.

“But you think I’m hot, and you think you’re not. That doesn’t make any sense, Seth, because you’re really beautiful,” he said. For some odd reason, that struck some chord with me. Not a good chord, either; it was one that vibrated with self-hate and suspicion.

“Andy, honestly, tell me this: do you think I’m fat?” He hesitated at the question, and that hesitation was every bit as bad as burning alive. Burning alive with people stationed around you holding fire extinguishers, but every one of them looking off into the distance, completely oblivious to your screams.

“The absolute honest truth is that no, you’re not ‘fat’. You could stand to lose a few pounds, but who can’t, Seth? I could definitely get rid of a little weight, and so could almost everybody else. You’re not ‘fat’ at all,” he said. I smiled.

“I guess so,” I said. I sunk my head down onto his chest and felt him play with my hair. He had no idea that he’d just hurt me so bad. I was still fat, and people were still sugarcoating the truth for me. They were stretching the truth, drawing false analogies, trying to make it sound like I was just normal and that I was just fine. They were all really thinking that I was repulsive, lazy, and only slightly bearable. Andy had seen me without a shirt on, seen how my stomach still fucking rippled every time I moved, and he was probably thinking about how much he regretted it.

“You wanna go back in there with everybody else, or stay in here with just us for a while?” he asked me. I thought about the obscene amount of blow on the table, and how it killed my appetite and made me feel so God-like. It was like I could feel the fat evaporating, disappearing with every line.

“Let’s go back in,” I said, and scrambled for my clothes before he could get up and get a solid look at me from a distance. He got dressed more slowly and then reached for my hand. I felt the touch and winced as I pulled away a little. His kept hold, though, as he looked at me softly.

“Oh, come on, I got an idea,” he said. We walked out of the room and into the kitchen. After digging through the fridge, he came up with a jar of maraschino cherries and a grin. He grasped the stem of one between long, thin fingers and held it up.

“Here you go, to fend off Anna,” he said. I loved this boy’s lame sense of humor so much. I took the cherry and popped it in my mouth, no chewing, as we walked into Anna’s room.

“AHA! The pervert returns from deflowering my Seth,” Anna said with her finger out and eyes narrowed at Andy. I shook my head and spit out the cherry so I could hold it with my teeth.

“Still got it, baby!” I told her.

“Not for long,” Andy said and then stole my cherry and kissed me in one move. He must have broken the tiny candied fruit with his teeth because there was a sudden flood of cherry flavor on his tongue. Anna, for once, did not react dramatically. In fact, she turned back to the card game they had going (I think it was a game of bullshit).

“It’ll be okay, more where that came from.”

***

I saw black spots and the world swam. I looked down to make sure I was still standing up, and saw my arm. Were my veins really that big? They bulged like tubing underneath the skin, and my arms felt so heavy. My heart felt like it was stomping in my chest, almost like it didn’t want to go faster so it went harder instead. I took a few gulping breaths and sank back onto the couch.

Exercise man on the TV’s voice was garbled, but he was definitely still shouting for me to not give up. I wanted to hit him so bad, but that required energy. I was so sleepy, and my eyes kept closing. I was so damned hungry, but when I went to the kitchen all I did was fill the biggest glass I could find with water and chug it down. I felt a little better after that, but I was still tired as fuck. The black spots hadn’t completely gone away, either. That wasn’t important, though. I was winning, doing better than I ever had before. It had been over a week, and the little voice in my head was throwing me a party to reward my willpower.

The doorbell rang and pulled me out of my thoughts. I almost wondered who it would be, but at this point even thinking seemed to require too much effort. My feet didn’t seem to want to come all the way off the floor, so I just shuffled to the door. I opened it to find a smiling, beautiful Andy.

“Hey sexy!” he started. “Whoa, are you okay? You’re really fucking pale, man. I know you don’t get enough sun, but damn.” I nodded and took a deep, slow breath.

“I’ve been working out and I’m just really tired is all,” I said. Wait, why was I tired? Well, I’d been working out but why was I tired enough to look pale? Did that need an excuse or a cover? Wait, what am I covering for? It was getting confusing and I couldn’t really keep my mind focused.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked. His eyes looked so concerned that I had to smile.

“Yeah, fine. I just goin’ bed to now, tired, that’s all…” I realized it was jumbled and nonsensical, but I teetered forward. It occurred to me that I really should take a step and keep my balance but my legs didn’t do what they should have for whatever reason. Andy caught me, stepping into the door quickly to grab me under my arms.

“Whoa, babe, let’s sit down. Are you awake? What’s wrong? Do I need to call somebody?” Andy half-carried, half-dragged me to the couch and set me down. It suddenly hit me that maybe my blood sugar was low. I’d had diabetic friends and family and I’d seen how oddly they looked and sounded when theirs bottomed out, but I never knew what it felt like. It was so weird, so void. I should have cared that my health was in danger, but it didn’t really occur to me. Well, that’s not even it, it sort of did occur to me but it didn’t evoke the proper response.

“I’m okay,” I said. “I just need something to drink, that’s all.” Andy looked worried, but he nodded and disappeared into the kitchen. He came back with a glass just a couple seconds later. I took a couple big swallows even though I’d just chugged all that water, and tasted something funny.

“Wait, I drink diet, this isn’t diet,” I said. I looked at him squarely, but there was still something funny about my speech and tone.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t see any diet. Just drink up, I don’t like digging through people’s houses,” he said. I did as I was told, mainly because I liked him so much and even through this stupor I wanted him to like me as much as possible. I drained the big glass and sat back. He took it out of my hand and set it on the coffee table; good thing he did since I probably would have dropped it. Arms wrapped around me and I leaned back into them. The warmth and comfort were so welcome. My head was slowly clearing up, but I was still sleepy.

“Can we take a nap?” I asked. I knew I was still a little damp from sweat, but I’d changed shirts so it wasn’t soaking, sopping wet. Andy hesitated at first.

“Okay, we can do that,” he said. He leaned back against the sofa and turned onto his side, pulling me with me. Lying behind me, I felt his arms wrap around my chest and stomach, holding me tight to him. Not long after, the world went black; it was solid and smooth this time, though, instead of spotty.

***

I shifted back, expecting a warm chest and safe arms. All I found was cold couch-space. My eyes popped open and I wondered if I’d freaked Andy out enough for him to finally abandon me. The smell of food hit me before the sound of voices did, and I recognized every individual dish. Spaghetti sauce was in the crock pot, and I could hear the bubble of boiling pasta water. Garlic wafted through the air along with the smell of toasted bread. I could smell hot oil and potatoes, plus a bit of a fresh tint mixed in; salad, maybe?

“So how did you meet my son?” I heard my mother’s voice. Who was she talking to?

“At a friend’s house. Have you met Anna?” I heard Andy talking and was genuinely surprised to know he was still there.

“She’s the girl that always has the hair over her face, really talkative and bouncy, right? Looks like she just popped enough no-doze to last eight college students a month?” my mom asked. I smiled at the description being so spot on.

“Yes ma’am, that’s the one.” Oh, my mother was going to love Andy. He knew enough to use some manners and she always ate that up. I had to admit, he was good at making people like him. He was way better at it than I was, anyway.

“Well, are the two of you an item or what?” she asked. I didn’t stir from the couch; this was just too interesting. I always knew my mom was just fine with me being gay, but it still felt odd for her to be so nonchalant.

“We haven’t exactly discussed it. I’d be all for it, but I don’t want to crowd Seth, y’know? He seems really independent sometimes, the way he stares off into space in the middle of a crowd of people, or just wanders away if he’s not really interested in something. I haven’t thought of a good way to talk about it yet, to tell the truth.” What? Huh? I’m independent? What’s so difficult about talking to me? Am I really that off-putting?

“He does have a habit of appearing that way. It’s just the way he is, but believe me, you don’t need to be worried about talking to him. From the way you two were cuddled up when I came in, he trusts you,” she said. I wasn’t sure she was right about that. It was more that so far he hadn’t done anything deliberately mean to me so I was giving him the benefit of the doubt. There was still a wall. There were things he shouldn’t know.

“I’ll probably bring it up soon. That’s part of why I came over today, but when I got here he was really tired and he wasn’t looking too perky so we just took a nap,” Andy said. I heard my mom’s spoon stop stirring around the spaghetti sauce.

“Was he looking pale and worn out? Veins kind of poppy-outty?” she asked.

“Yeah, he was. How did you know?”

“He’s been looking like that more and more often lately. Look, I know you’re his friend and you probably wouldn’t tell me anyway, but is there something I should know about? Like is he doing anything that could end up with him getting hurt?” she asked. Oh great, mom. Thanks, I owe you one for this little line of questioning.

“Nothing that I know of,” Andy said. Thank God for that. “I mean, I don’t know, really. I came in and got him a coke ‘cause he said he was thirsty. He said he only drank diet, but when I saw him it reminded me of how my aunt gets sometimes. She’s diabetic, and every now and then she’s gotta get something to eat quick or she just passes smooth out.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. What the hell, Andy?! Just shut your goddamn mouth, please, before you end up making her think something stupid.

“He was working out when I came, though, so that’s probably what it was,” Andy said. Wow, close one there. Close to what? What did I have to hide? I was just working out, that’s all.

“That and him smoking doesn’t help I bet. I keep telling him to quit, and even bought him patches and gum. I don’t make a big fuss out of it because he’s always such a good kid, but I don’t like knowing he does it,” my mom said. I rolled my eyes. If she only knew what was going on, but then maybe she did have a clue and just was trying to wheedle something out of Andy. I decided this was a good time to wake up, so I got up and walked into the adjoining kitchen.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” my mom said. Andy smiled at me. I had to resist the urge to narrow my eyes at him for telling such idiotic things to my mom, but the smile just made me melt.

“Smells good,” I mumbled. Way too good, in fact. “Where’s dad?”

“Oh, his flight was canceled because of that thunderstorm, but he should be home tomorrow morning sometime. Anyway, while you were asleep me and Andy were getting to know each other,” she said. Yeah, I bet you and Andy were. “I invited him to stay for supper since I cooked so much and you barely ever have friends over.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. In all my life, I don’t think there was ever a time when I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear as much as that moment.

“Oh, okay. Um, I’m gonna go to the bathroom and fix the bed-head, and then I’ll come help you finish up,” I said. How was I supposed to get out of this without looking weird or rude? Should I just say that Andy had plans, or that Andy and I had plans, or what? She wouldn’t accept that, and she’d probably already asked Andy all of those sorts of questions while I really was asleep. I would have been surprised it took her as long as it did to get to the question about how we met, but that was my mom’s style. Take ‘em in, make ‘em trust her, be sweet and soft; then, if they’re judged unworthy, devour their soul while they’re off-guard.

“Take your time, Andy’s been a huge help. I’d hang on to him if I were you, I don’t see many men handy in a kitchen,” my mom said, winking at me and giggling. I know my face turned red as I headed for the bathroom with an exasperated “Mom!!”.