Authors: C. Kennedy
“I hope I become someone you can trust.”
Christy jotted
Me too
.
Michael gave Christy a tender smile. Christy had ghosts. Faceless and ferocious, they ate at Christy’s very soul. A band tightened around Michael’s heart, and he made a silent promise to help Christy. Whether Christy was his boyfriend or not, those ghosts were now his enemies too, and he would see to their annihilation.
“You still up for a shake at the RT?”
Christy smiled briefly.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I’m going to reach around you to get your seatbelt.”
He reached around Christy and stopped, leaving Christy’s arms to hang in midair. He was treating Christy like a—
a date.
An honest to goodness
guy date
.
How cool is that?
Gathering his nearly nonexistent cool, Michael fastened Christy in.
Taking advantage of Michael’s close proximity, Christy wreathed his arms around Michael’s neck and claimed his mouth in a blistering kiss. Shocked, Michael began to pull away, and Christy’s arms tightened. Christy’s tongue swept and found his, warm and encouraging.
Christy’s kiss was everything Michael had ever dreamed of. No one had ever kissed him like this. No one had ever held him like this. He’d never been held by anyone who mattered. Without warning, Michael’s need to love and be loved crashed over him, a tidal wave of yearning against a careworn shore. When Christy’s arms encircled Michael’s waist, bringing him closer still, Michael found himself deepening the kiss. When the kiss ended, Michael was breathless and craving more.
Christy watched him carefully, his eyes filled with equal measures of wonder and uncertainty.
“Wow,” Michael breathed as he sat back in his seat.
Christy continued to watch him, as if to take in every nuance, every degree of expression.
“That was something.”
Christy mouthed words Michael couldn’t understand, and he shook his head ever so slightly.
Christy wrote
Something good or something bad?
and held the pad up.
Michael couldn’t believe Christy needed to ask. Christy’s kiss was one hell of a kiss. There were no words to describe it. Warm and soft, it tasted of watermelon and something sugary, and it had been
crazy
good. It was rapture, paradise, heaven. “Better than good.”
A tentative smile graced Christy’s pouty lips, then fell away, his eyes filling with question again. Michael found it odd how quickly Christy’s confidence dissipated into uncertainty, as if Christy’s sense of self was a liquid, ebbing and flowing thing. Then Michael reminded himself that Christy had endured things, obviously horrible things if his neck was any indication, and he needed to be cautious and gentle.
“That was the best kiss I ever had.”
Christy’s brows arched to the heavens.
When it came to guys, Michael was a total virgin. He’d tell Christy sometime, he supposed, if they actually went out, but now? Right now?
Yeah,
now.
“I’ve never….” Michael fought his own emotions to explain and finally had to look away.
It was Christy’s turn to put gentle fingertips to Michael’s chin and guide his face back.
Michael saw only genuine concern in Christy’s eyes. “I’ve never… kissed a guy.” The last three words came out in a rush.
Christy’s eyes went wide.
“I’ve wanted… I’ve wanted a boyfriend for as long as I can remember.” The pained admission affected Michael more than he could have imagined. He rubbed a palm along a thigh in a futile effort to stave off unbidden emotion.
Clearly, Christy noticed his struggle because he cupped Michael’s cheek gently before scribbling again.
Michael answered before he finished the question. “Just turned eighteen. You?”
Christy scribbled
19. Missed some school
.
Michael pointed to his neck. “Because of that?”
Christy nodded and scribbled, and Michael smiled at the question as images of pink lace panties invaded his mind. He thought back to when he was eight years old. His mom used to let him wear her ruffled bathing suit bottoms when he swam. They were pink and patterned with little red hearts, and he’d loved those ruffles more than anything on earth. He was ill when his mom threw them out when the elastic wore out. Sicker yet, when her new bathing suit had no ruffles at all. Did he want to go out with a guy who wore panties? Pink lace panties?
Hell, yes!
“Unless you turn out to have horns or a hidden tail or something weird like that, yeah, I want to go out with you.”
A smile burst across Christy’s pretty lips. He pecked Michael’s cheek quickly before mouthing, “Good.”
This time Michael understood the word and grinned. “Yeah, good. Very good.”
Relieved the serious moment had passed, Michael started the car and hit the CD button. Taylor Swift’s “Fearless” filled the air as he pulled out of the parking lot. He could hardly contain his elation as he drove. Their kiss would remain indelibly imprinted on his mind. As would the pink lace panties.
T
HEY
sat side by side in a booth so Michael could read as Christy wrote. After going through ten three-by-five pages, Michael pulled a binder from his backpack and opened it to blank, lined notebook paper.
Christy mouthed, “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” Michael snuck the used small pages into his pack. He’d cherish them forever. “Can I put my arm around you?”
Christy paused and looked around at the empty café.
“Be easy. The owner’s gay. We’re cool here.”
Christy mouthed, “Okay.”
Michael put his arm around Christy’s shoulders, and Christy stilled. Michael immediately knew it wasn’t okay and withdrew his arm.
Christy turned to him, his brow knitted once again.
“I can see it makes you uncomfortable. Don’t worry about it.”
Christy’s brow knitted further.
“Good touch, bad touch, you know?”
Christy looked at him as if he were an extraterrestrial alien.
“Okay, the rule is, if you’re uncomfortable in any way, doesn’t matter how small, then the touch is bad, and that person can’t touch you that way. Ever. That’s the rule.”
Christy quickly scribbled
Never?
“Never. You’re in control.”
Christy simply stared at him.
Why do I have the impression that I’m speaking a foreign language?
“You have total control over who touches you and how they touch you.”
Christy wrote
Did not know this
.
“Well, that’s the rule. If it makes you uncomfortable, it doesn’t happen. Period. End of report.”
Christy scribbled quickly again.
There is a report?
Michael closed his eyes for the briefest of moments and wondered if there really was a language barrier between them. “I meant that it’s the end of the discussion. You’re in total control.”
Christy thought for a long moment before reaching over and slowly bringing Michael’s arm around him.
Michael thought to cup Christy’s shoulder with his hand, then thought better of it, and left it to drape down Christy’s arm. Christy surprised him by pressing his hand to his shoulder. Michael gave Christy’s shoulder a gentle squeeze and whispered a “Thanks” into his ear.
Christy surprised him yet again with a radiant smile.
Michael was going to have to get used to this. Christy was definitely in an emotional league of his own. “Do you want to go back to the question you asked in the locker room?”
Christy nodded.
“I want the same things anybody wants in a relationship. Love, respect, honesty, caring. You know, the usual.”
Christy held his gaze for a long moment before scribbling again.
Michael laughed. “That’s a loaded question if I ever read one. You first.”
Christy frowned, his own question seeming to stump him. Michael couldn’t help but tease. “Got you.”
Christy gave Michael an irritated look as he put pen to paper.
Afraid. Angry. Can be stubborn.
He clicked the pen against his lower lip as he pondered for a moment and then wrote
Lonely.
Michael’s heart went out to him yet again, and he dared to brush one of Christy’s wispy ringlets gently behind an ear. “Being lonely isn’t a fault, and you’re not alone anymore.”
Christy’s expressive eyes went wide again.
“Worst-case scenario, we can be friends, right?”
Christy shrugged a shoulder, his eyes a combination of worry and uncertainty.
“Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
Christy rolled his eyes and mouthed, “Everything.”
“No, you’re not. You were brave enough to follow me around, to watch me, and talk to me.”
He rolled his eyes again and wrote
Knew you were nice. Your turn
.
“My turn, okay. Ah, sometimes I can be really unaware.”
Christy arched a brow in query.
“I come from a totally normal home and have great parents who have no problem with me being gay. I do pretty much what I want, when I want, as long as I get good grades and stay out of trouble. I go along believing the world is mostly a happy place, and sometimes I lose perspective. I don’t always see what other people go through, their hardships, things like that.”
Christy wrote
What else?
Michael half laughed. “What else? That’s pretty major.”
Christy made a “bring it on” motion with his hand.
“Sometimes I tease too much.”
Christy motioned again.
“I don’t know what else. Ask Jake. He’ll know all my faults and be brutally honest with you.”
Michael talked and Christy scribbled for the remainder of the afternoon. By the time the sun began to set, Michael felt as if he’d known Christy for a year. He wanted to take Christy home to meet his parents, but their strange behavior of the night before gave him pause. He wracked his brain for a parental weirdness cure and found none. His parents were going to be weird about his first boyfriend no matter what he said or did, so he might as well get it over with. Christy was emotional and sensitive, but Michael suspected he was sturdy in his own way. He had to be to have survived the… abuse. The word made Michael cringe inwardly.
Looking at the time on his cell phone, he asked, “What time do you need to be back at Wellington?”
Christy scribbled
No time
.
“Do you want to come to my house?”
Christy gave him a dubious look.
“My parents are only a little, well, right now they’re a lot weird, but we can handle it.”
Christy thought for a moment before scribbling again.
Michael smiled. “I told you, I’ve never had one to bring home. Have you ever had a boyfriend?”
Christy’s face darkened, and he nodded slowly, his gaze distant once again. After a moment he slowly wrote
Older. Rough with me. Bad
.
Michael noticed that Christy’s writing was smaller, tighter when he wrote about something that bothered him. “Sorry to hear that.”
Christy shrugged a shoulder and scribbled
Out?
“Only Jake and my parents know.”
Another quick scribble.
Out okay?
Now there was the question of all questions. Michael had never had a reason to consider it seriously. “I take it that out is okay with you?”
Christy scribbled
If you keep me
.
Michael raised a hand to stroke Christy’s thick mane, then decided against it. “You’re not a possession to be kept or discarded.”
Christy’s eyes filled with uncertainty again.
“Are you saying you don’t want to be out unless we’re together?”
Christy nodded and scribbled
Safer
.
Michael nodded in understanding. He could think of a few people who’d be jerks about it, including Jason Whitman. “How about if we keep it low-key at school?”
Christy frowned and scribbled
Not together?
“Are you asking if we can hang together at school even though we’re not out at school?”
Christy nodded.
“Heck, yeah. Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Now Christy’s eyes sparkled, happy again.
Michael dialed his mom and put the phone to his ear. “Hey…. What time are you going to be home…? I’m bringing someone home with me…. No, not Jake, and you can’t be weird….” Michael grinned at his mom’s teasing. “Christy… Castle… nineteen.” He turned to Christy. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”
Christy half nodded, half shrugged.
“Yeah, he’ll stay. One more thing. He can’t speak…. I’m serious…. He has a neck injury… don’t know… yeah… okay. See you later.” He slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Sorry, I don’t usually get the third degree, but I guess it’s to be expected.”
Christy smiled wide.
“What?”
Christy shook his head and withdrew his cell. He sent a text message and received one back immediately. He handed the phone to Michael. Michael read it and quickly entered his name, phone number, address, and said he’d have Christy home by ten. He smiled to himself as he added
Thanks, Mom
and handed the phone back to Christy.
Christy hissed, erased Mom and typed Rob, and sent the message.
Michael stood and dropped ten dollars on the table for their shakes and a tip. Christy mouthed, “Thanks.” Michael slung his backpack over a shoulder and held a hand out to Christy. “You’re welcome.”
Christy beamed as he exited the booth and took Michael’s hand.
Michael waved. “Later, Hank.”
“Take care of your man, there, Mike. Looks like you found a keeper.”
A
keeper
. A
boyfriend
. He swelled with giddy pride. If things kept going this way, he was going to be part of an honest-to-goodness
couple
. “Will do, Hank. See you later.”
M
ICHAEL
took Christy’s backpack and set it on the table in the foyer next to his own. They had a basic three-bedroom, middle-class home with a pool. Nothing special, but he knew how awkward he felt when he didn’t know his way around someone’s house, so he gave Christy a quick tour. Last on the tour was their den. He went to the iPod in its docking station and hit play. Snow Patrol’s “Run” played softly in the background as he dropped onto the couch and patted the seat next to him.