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George Lysander, you were everything I wasn’t. And in saying that, I don’t mean you were a dragon or a mercenary or anything else cool that you probably were in a past life or are now. I mean you fought with time on your side and I fought against it. And in that, I fought against you.You were real and I blame myself for everything, every consequence that came with thinking you were anything but just that; real. It’s such a shame I believed you were more. It was the only way I could cope. I had to see you as more than I was to emotionally handle the fact that I had potential I never wanted to face. You fought with time on your side. I fought against it to remain, and you moved on to greater things. George Lysander, you were everything I wasn’t and you became everything I didn’t have the courage to be.

“So I turned myself to face me

But I've never caught a glimpse.

Of how the others must see the faker

I'm much too fast to take that test”

- David Bowie

The Blurred Lines of Inbetweeners

DECEMBER

George Lysander signed my yearbook in third grade, “You rock, don’t ever change.” And though I had never spoken to him much at all, I took his advice to heart. George and I didn’t know each other in the way that a best friend would know their best friend until our Senior year of High School. So I wonder how he thought I rocked in third grade. I had Skechers that light up when you stomped hard enough, so maybe that's why.One shoe stopped lighting up about a month after I bought these light up shoes that rocked at that age. My mom, the pitbull she was, stormed to the mall, my wrist tight in one hand and our receipt in the other. I don’t remember what happened inside the mall, all I remember is driving home with one new light up sneaker. I got to school with my one new shoe and my one old shoe, I squeaked and sparked down the hall to my class. George Lysander saw me on my way and asked, “Did you get new shoes?”“One,” I told him, “I just got the one.”And his face light up. “I’ve never known anyone to get just one new shoe. That’s the baddest shit I’ve ever seen!” And I was shocked, because so far in my life that particular moment was the baddest stuff I’d ever seen. I had never heard someone my age swear. And George and I didn’t talk again until Senior year.
 
It was a new years eve party at this girl’s house. Her name was Veronica and I was in love with her. Let me tell you about Veronica. Veronica Stevens had an aunt who worked with my father and my father and her aunt had this crazy love affair that ended, in total three marriages. Those three marriages were my parents', Veronica’s aunt’s marriage, and the marriage of divorce attorney who slept with my mother and is now my step-father. His name is Lance Waters and he has been hinting at me and Veronica to sleep together and some how end three marriages and keep the tradition going. It started off as a joke but the more Lance talked about me and Veronica having sex the more of a reality it sort of became. It was nearly inevitable; Tell a boy his whole life to sleep with a girl and he might not take it seriously, but if that girl is Veronica it’s like giving him a mission and boys love missions. Have you ever asked a little boy to do something and have him refuse? Then you tell him, “I’ll time you” and suddenly it’s no longer a chore but rather a test of his own six-year-old agility? That’s what this became. And I inevitably fell in love with Veronica.So naturally I began to stalk her. I saw her around holidays and we grew up together because her aunt is now my ex-step-mother. So I was already an imprinted image in her mind, like if she were to see me in a police line up I’d be one of the three or five people she’d probably think she saw somewhere before.I sort of set myself up to be in her life more once my dad and her aunt separated. I would talk to my counselor and try to convince him I’d be better off in classes she was in. I’d take routes where I knew I’d see her. It kind of worked. We ended up around Freshman year eating lunch together every day and hanging out on weekends and going to the mall and stuff. And one day we were walking to her house from the grocery store where we’d tried to get college kids to buy us cigarettes and I told her, “Hey, Veronica you’re like my best friend.”And she smiled. I didn’t think she’d actually smile, I thought it would be worse than that, I thought she’d laugh too.And she said, “Wow, that’s crazy. I was just thinking the same thing. It’s weird, most girls don’t like me because, I can be intimidating.”And I made the mistake of saying, “It’s because you’re so beautiful.”And she punched me. And it was the kind of punch every guy wants to get from a girl because you figure next probably comes making out or something (I had never made out at that point). She told me, “And guys don’t like me either because I can be a tad bit aggressive.”And I made the mistake of saying, “Well they’re missing out. Because I like that you’re aggressive. In fact I love it.” And I told her, “I love you.”And she stopped walking. And I don’t know why but I kept walking. I think my brain shut off or something, like I think I just went into auto pilot.And I left her behind me and I heard her in the distance say, “You don’t mean that.” She said it like she was telling me. “You don’t mean that.” She said, “You don’t love me like that.”And I did what any other teenage boy would do and I said, “Well...” And I attempted to explain myself, which is an awful thing to do. You should never have to explain to someone why you love them, especially when in your mind, you know they wouldn’t give you the same reasons back. Or, you know, at least a few of them. “I guess I mean it in a different way than is usually said.”“Like, you love me as a friend. Or a sister, I mean we’re kind of cousins,” she said, more so trying to reason with herself and not with me. And seeing her trying to cope with the fact that I was into her in a way she would never be into me, I panicked.“Yeah that’s what I meant,” and because I was a teenage boy, I lied and said, “It’s not even like you’re my type.” As if that’d make her jealous. “You’re great but I’m more...” and I don’t know how or why I said what I said. Some may say a freudian slip, others a panic attack, and maybe it was fate. But I just said, “I’m more... gay.” I know.Look, you don’t have to say it, I know. I’m in the future also. And I know that was not the best thing that could have been said.“Wait, what?” She asked. We both didn’t say anything. “Thanks for telling me that, do you want to talk about it?”And because I’m a bad liar who had just been given to option to lie less I shrugged and said, “Naa, I’m good.” And we kept walking.And that’s when mine and Veronica’s relationship when from good to great.
 
I don’t mean she started changing in front of me and asking me to feel for lumps in her breasts, I just mean she was around me more than ever after that. She thought, in the conservative town we lived in, I’d face harassment and judgment from the kids we went to school with. She was always there when I needed her, just to talk about how I was feeling. I could tell her anything, because in her mind, she already knew my biggest secret. And that made telling her anything else so much easier. And she kept all my secrets big, small, real or not for years.And it wasn’t a problem. Because all those years I never was attracted to girls, just the one: Just Veronica. So I played the part well.
 
It wasn’t until junior year that she started telling me, “I think you need to come out to your parents.”“No,” I’d say as we would lie in her bed, “I don’t think that’s necessary. I mean what if it’s just a phase?” And she’d look at me like I was crazy, “Well... I mean what if I’m not mutually exclusive? I might meet a girl one day that changes everything. I might meet a girl who I fall in love with,” I’d say, really thinking maybe she’d fall in love with me, “And I don’t want to confuse my parents into thinking homosexuality really is a phase. I wouldn’t want to prove them right, you know?”She’d sigh, “It’s a touchy subject. I’m glad you're open like that though. I don’t think love should ever be mutually exclusive. I think love is triangle.” Veronica was always comparing things to shapes, “When you base it on it’s point it’s too unstable.”“I think that’s more of a pyramid.”“Well... it’s the same thing.” It wasn’t but whatever.
 
And over the years Veronica started going by Roni. Girls stopped being afraid of her and started taking advantage of her. When you put a girl like Veronica or Roni or whoever in a group of around four or five girls, one guy will come to talk to her, and all his friends will come to talk to the rest. And Roni was okay with that. And I kind of went on my own for a while. I’d eat lunch with her and about eight other girls, they’d talk to me and ask me what guys in the school were hot and I’d tell them honestly because you don’t really have to be gay to do that stuff you just have to have eyes really. Weekends Roni would be off with them, finding a boyfriend for that week. And when that relationship ended, I was her shoulder to cry on. Then she’d tell me, “You really need to come out to your parents.”
 
I kind of began to worry that the gay thing had gone on too long. I thought it would be like falling in love with her all over again. I thought it would be inevitable and I’d become gay for real. Not that that was a bad thing, I was just kind of sick of having destiny at that point. I really wanted to decide some things for myself.
 
One day she came over to my house and she climbed in my window like she always did when I was staying with my mom and Lance to avoid conflict or subtle hints at us doing the do and ruining more marriages.She said, “I met the most perfect boy!” And I asked who it was and she told me, “George Lysander.” And even though I wasn’t gay, I was jealous. I was jealous from two standpoints: One, if I were straight, it was because I knew if George Lysander had Roni, I’d never get her back, I’d (If I ever got with her) pale in comparison. Two, if I were gay, I would probably be gay with him. I always had to keep that in mind should it get to the point where my would gayness overtake me, that I’d have to pick some guy to have sex with. I figured why not that kid who thought my one new shoe was cool.She told me all about him, “He’s poetic,” she told me, “He does slam poetry at The Leaf Lounge, he plays five instruments, he’s afraid of busses, he like cherries with the pits, he lives in a huge house, he’s got this long coat like Jud Nelson from The Breakfast Club. And his hair! Oh his hair!” And she’d swoon and swoon, “It’s like a wave! And his teeth are like Arlington National Cemetery! And his eyes are like silver dollars! And his voice is like crackling embers of a campfire long gone out but still shining faintly and making you hot. He’s a go getter and a dreamer. A thinker and a speaker. He’s perfect.”
 
One night she took me with her to see him do slam poetry at The Leaf Lounge.He got on stage in his Judd Nelson coat and he tapped the mic three times, “Mic check.” He said, “I said, mic check. Who checks? Do you? Do you listen? Am I heard? I am that catcher, and I cannot be heard from the center of this rye eat rye world. I am not a seer, I do not see. I am a dreamer. Doing poetry. Do poetry, they said. It won't make you feel a thing except that you are dead. Read and write to realize there’s demons in your head. The demons in my head are welll fed. They chew up my thoughts, toss them out my mouth to create all the words I’ve said.” And he went on and on and moved all around and Roni swooned and swooned. The next day she dyed the ends of her hair purple and started wearing eyeliner on the insides of her eyes. The next day her and George were “a thing” and Roni lost her virginity. I cried a little.
 
Then three weeks later, after avoiding her as much as possible she crawled into my window and told me, “George Lysander is a manipulative bastard and I don’t understand how I will ever stop loving him!”Apparently he had gotten her to convince herself to break up with him. Somehow he convinced her he was a bad influence and she was too good for him. He complimented her to death, gave her so much praise, so much ambition, told her she was going all these places. “He said he was an anchor,” she told me through tears, “He said I was a seahawk soaring above the waves and he was an anchor at the bottom of the bay. I’d fly and he’d stay. I’d get away and he’d never change.” I thought back to what he signed in my yearbook, and I figured he’d taken his own advice. “Why would I leave him? I gave him everything!”“Sex isn’t everything, Roni.” I told her, “Because sex isn’t love.” And she looked at me like I was crazy. After a few minutes of giving me this crazy stare she just started nodding more and more and telling me I was right, I was so so right and she’d never make that mistake again. She told me she would never love anyone as long as she lived.And in that moment, I realized I was so fucked. And so were half the guys at school, all by Roni. Which whatever, it’s her life and I don’t see her sexuality as a toll on her womanhood at all. I never once fell less in love with her. I was just saddened that I had turned to to it, I had told her sex wasn’t love and to separate herself as far from love as she could, she supplemented whatever hole George had left in her, with having sex with people she did not love.I coped with not being one of the guys she chose to have sex with by saying she loved me, not that she thought I was gay.
 
I never met George when he was Roni’s boyfriend. I avoided them at all costs, I even ate lunch with different people I knew from other classes and such when he’d sit at our table. And I had successfully not spoken to him. Until, more than two years after they broke up and it was five minutes from a new year and George Lysander was playing Roni’s grand piano in the foyer of her home for all her party guests.
 
The party so far was going great, the furniture was being stepped on and spilled upon. Everyone had a red cup. We were all a bit off balance. And the police had been called on several occasions, to which we all would yell, “Fuck the police!” You know, like hooligans. And since it was new years they gave up and would leave, but I think it also had something to do with the fact that Roni’s father was the mayor at the time. So the party was going great. I knew George was there because every girl was saying his name as I walked by, it was usually followed by “Oh my God, he’s really here?” or “I will fuck him tonight” things and stuff like that.
 
I figured out where George was most the night, as I had heard he was there but never saw him. George had a reputation at parties to be a certain way. Out on the second floor balcony, the party had a different vibe, being up so high, on the house and on the cliff on which it was built, the party goers were preferring to get high themselves but rather on weed and their parents prescriptions mostly than on pure altitude. If it wasn’t “party drugs” they swiped from home, it was Xanax or Adderall that they bought off the weird kids in the halls at school. This is where George spent his time at parties. They traded colorful capsules and smoked out of eachothers various intricately designed pipes and pieces. George rolled the thickest joints which then in return drew in the girls who always acted desperate to chase their high.They looked like him mostly, dark and ominous, mysterious and mature. But George didn’t let himself fall for them and their alluring tricks but he did allow himself to enjoy them and the show they’d put on when they were under the influence.They’d spot him lighting another, thick and rich with his expensive and high quality herb he was known for. They could smell it a mile away and there he would be, puffing away at a long and hearty spliff of lord knows how expensive, quality marijuana.And his eyes would batt heavy as he inhaled deeply again and all the other dark and pensive females would flock to him and say, “George, we know you have plenty to share,” and they’d lean on him like goth-nymphs and whisper and whine, “please, please?” desperate to try and test out the different and exoctic new kinds he had, desperate to see what new thrilling high it gave them.And as I’d sit in the corner out on the balconies at other parties I’d pretend to have fun at and see this all go down, I would hear George say something like, “Okay, princess. But what do you have to offer me?” And usually on a crowded night of a more intense party Roni would drag me to, I’d see sometimes two girls would each take turns kissing his face and his lips and he’d blow smoke into their mouths and then let them try it out themselves and hand over the joint to them.At more mellow parties he could get, and he often did get, much much more from these kinds of girls. And Roni (Over him mostly by now) would tell me, “George would always say, if the way he felt when the girls would get down on their knees or bend over to thank him, was what love felt like, maybe he’d believe in the fantasy.” She’d shy away from me and say, “But he was smart enough to distinguish the two. Like I do now.”
 
That night on New Years I had seen that he had gotten thanked modestly by three or four girls on the balcony. And when he knew he had had his limit, he passed over the remainder of the blunt to them. He put on his sunglasses, leaned his chair up against the rail of the balcony and looked up to the stars. I realized, as I saw him stretch out and cross his legs, that he had two different pairs of shoes on, I figured he was completely wasted.
 
I retreated inside to mingle with some of Roni’s friends and I’d ask them where she was. “Upstairs!” They’d yell to me over the bass.
 
I was heading up the stairs to go find her when I heard the piano strike a haunting chord. I turned around and saw George, playing away. I noticed his feet on the pedals, I saw he was still wearing two different types of shoes.He began to wail in his deep deep singing voice, “We are the experiments. With arrogance, pouring from every little orifice! Under the microscope. With little hope, of ever getting more of this! They’ve finished taking notes and so it’s time for us to go! Get home, we’re done here. I said  we’re fucking done.” He took a big pause and did this jaunty piano solo that contradicted the haunting chords of the first verses, then jumped right back in, “We are corrections and edits! And we are the end credits! So we better get rolling!” He screamed happily, “Bust the tabs out!” And the crowd went wild, “Before we max out our cash out. We’re still roaming and rolling, down memory lane-- The girlfriend we call Molly pumpin’ in our veins!”“What’s with the shoes?!” Yelled some jock I didn’t recognize.George took the music down a notch and started playing softer, like how jazz musicians do when they’re about to monologue before they start the chorus back up. And he said, in a vaguely Ray Charles voice, “You know, uh... a good friend once told me. You can never have too much of a good thing.” He paused and slowly brought the tempo up then back down again, “So I... took his advice. And I’ve never limited myself since. You wouldn’t believe.... how much happiness that brings. Because if you’re a man... and you’ve got good stuff...” He smashed the keys and stood up, kicking back the piano bench and screaming, “Don’t ever let no one tell you that enough is enough! Or that’s just way too much! Never limit yourself! There’s no such thing... as too much’a good thing, Yeah!” And he said in a much higher tone, “Yeeah!” And jumped back into the towering beat, “But I’mma share the wealth, I’mma share the wealth. If there’s one thing I know, one thing my mama taught myself! If you got a good thing, best’a help someone else! So, uh... who want’s this shoe?” And he slipped off one boot and held it high in the air. People were screaming, jumping up and down and I was wondering when this became such a concert. And George threw the shoe, leaving him in just a red Converse sneaker and a white tube sock. He played louder and louder and screamed, “Only one shoe! Only one shoe! Only one shoe! Only one true shoe!” And everyone else joined in.Until 11:59. And George made this drumroll like sound on the piano with the low keys and began a countdown from ten. And as he got closer to one, and everyone else got more loud and more anxious the notes he played got higher and more climactic. And we all shouted happy new year after he yelled “one!” and George, as everyone else grabbed someone and began to make out, started to play Auld Lang Syne, singing away.
 
It was after, when everyone was making out, I looked and realized that Roni had taken a seat next to me on the stairs. “He’s so funny, isn’t he?” She asked.I didn’t know what to say, so I said what everyone who doesn’t know what to say says, “Yeah.”“He hasn’t dated anyone since me.”“Really?”“Yeah,” and then she said something I will never forget, “He’s a pretty messed up guy, you two might like each other.” Which is just as insulting as it sounds. “I could introduce you.”“No, that’s okay,” I said as I began to chug my fears away and drown them in alcohol.She stared at me and her jaw dropped, “Oh my God. Do you like him?”“No!” I nearly choked, “Roni, he broke your heart.”“Oh please, he did not. I don’t really think I ever liked him, I was fourteen, he was cute. It could  have happened to anyone. Besides we’re cool now, friends even!”“Friends?”“Yeah we’ve been texting each other and I still see him do poetry every now and then.” And then she yelled, “George! George!” And he looked over to us and smiled. She waved him over to us.“What’s up, youths?” He greeted us, leaning a knee onto the steps below us.“George, this is my best friend, Jonathan Bates. Only we just call him Bates.”I tried to smile, “How’s it going?”“Good,” he said with a brightness in his voice, “Happy new year.”“Yeah...” I struggled, “You too.”He pointed at me and gave me a half smile, “We totally know each other. I remember you from elementary school, man. You were that kid who said I was going to barf?”“Oh yeah.”
 
I flashed back to the third grade. It was someone’s birthday and they brought cupcakes for the whole class. We sang, she passed them out and we scarfed them down. George was putting his away like it was the end of the world and he’d just been offered the last food ration. And one kid yelled, “We’re all eating so fast! I wonder who will be the first!”And I said, out loud as opposed to in my head where I keep most of my wit and said, “George will be the first,” then I paused for comedic effect, “to barf!” And the whole class cracked up and I felt like a god damned king.
 
“I can’t believe you remember that,” I told him, the shock clear in my tone.He took a seat next to me, “Yeah I remember because after that was recess and I totally barfed in the bathroom.”Roni cracked up, “No way, for real?”“Yeah I was on the swings, feeling sick as all hell. And so I jumped off and I ran to the nearest restroom and puked my guts out.” He took my red cup out of my hand and took a swig then finished his story, “I got yanked out by a school yard supervisor, Mrs. Marquee. And she grabbed me, mid-wretch by my collar and said, ‘Buddy! I don’t know what you think you’re doing, pervin’ around but you’re going to the office. No pervs in my school yard!’“Turns out I was in the girls bathroom! I’d ran in there by mistake because I was so nauseated I didn’t even think to check, right? So I thought, she was mad at me for vomiting at school and I thought pervin’ around meant getting sick. So when I got sent to the office, I went to the nurse and told her, ‘I’m a perv, can I go home?’ and I did.”I stared at him, “That’s it? That’s where the story ends?”“Yup,” he told me, “I thought perv ment barfing until fifth grade.” And I laughed and laughed until I realized I was laughing alone. I turned to see why Roni wasn’t laughing anymore and I noticed she was gone. I looked back to George who didn’t seem phased by her absence, “So, Bates... Roni and you are close?” I nodded, “You know, when Roni and I decided to go our separate ways we had a long discussion about love and what it really was. I thought Roni was the one. But we were just having sex... it never felt like she loved me the way I loved her, you know?”I chuckled, drunk at this point, “Yes, I definitely know.”“She taught me though, something great, it’s changed me entirely. She taught me that love isn’t mutually exclusive. She showed me that and I never forgot it. I went on and I never really met anyone like her. And then recently, around the beginning of the new school year she and I reconnected and your name came up. And it’s been brought to my attention, Bates, that you taught her that.” I narrowed my eyes at him as I was beginning to see double, “You told her that love isn’t mutually exclusive. And I’m wondering if you still go by that creed?”I nodded, “So you are basically asking me if I’m still gay?” He didn’t say anything, I replied too quick, “I’m not. I’m not gay. I’ve never been gay--”He grabbed my shoulder, “That’s it! That’s what I really like! We have too many god damned labels these days: Gay, straight, bi, A-sexual, pansexual, cis, trans, whatever man! I say fuck all that! To Hell with all of it! I say fuck all these names and labels! We are humans! We shouldn’t be labeled as anything other than such! Love is precious and rare! If you are a diamond miner, and you are not finding a single diamond in your diamond mine, you won’t waste your time hunting in that barren waste of a mine will you?”I took it all in, “So you’re saying that if I’m looking for love in one place and not finding it there, then I should move to the next mine? What if I like that mine?”“That’s fine, all I’m saying is, don’t fear the idea that there are more mines, darker mines, yet to be explored, filled with diamonds. And if you decide those diamonds aren’t as good as the ones in your precious favorite mine, then go back to it, no harm done.”“So... don’t be afraid of your sexuality?”He nods slowly, “Stop picking apart my metaphors but yeah, basically. So do you still go by that?” He asked.I thought about it, “I really think I do now so more than ever,” I chuckled. I finished what was left in my cup. When I lowered it and tossed it over my shoulder I realized that George’s hand was still there. I stared at it until I felt his other hand on the side of my face.I looked at him, but was only able to for about a half of a second. Because once I saw into his eyes and he saw into mine, he took that as my signal or something. And I couldn’t see his face, because there was no space between his and mine.And I had been faking gay for so long, but without any real test to see if I wasn’t really faking. And so I let George kiss me and I let myself kiss him back. And that night, I lost my virginity to George Lysander.

FEBRUARY

I had known Marty for a while, he was one of Roni’s boyfriends that kind of stuck around her after a while. Marty’s parents were always going out. They believed 40 was the new 28. And they had been pretending to be 40 for the last fifteen odd years. And so they went out. His dad wore a suit and his mom wore her hair down in curls.They invited another couple in their fake forties over for a glass of wine and tapas on the back deck of their countryside home in northern California before heading out for a few more glasses of wine and some fancier tapas and cheeses on the  deck of some restaurant in even more northern California. Marty had his ear to the door leading to his balcony, God forbid he actually step outside to look at the four. One look at him out on his balcony and his mother would yell, “Martin, if you have finished studying why don’t you come out and say hello. Mr. and Mrs. VanCamp would be so pleased to hear one of your stories!” And his father would nudge Mr. Vancamp and say, “Our boy is a regular stand up comedian.”And Mrs. VanCamp would turn to the men and add in, “Oh we do enjoy that one man who does the jokes with the puppets...”But Marty was laying on his stomach and what was left over of his boy-boobs now that he was finally thinning out, listening through the crack, waiting for when his mother would turn off the Acoustic Spanish Guitar music off Pandora Radio and insist she was well enough to drive to the restaurant.I liked it best when it was just Myself, George and Roni; our holy trinity. But we would sometimes run as this ragtag team of unlikely buddies; Me, George, Roni, Marty, Jules, and John. We were laying on Marty’s bed together, with our psych books open, pretending to give a damn about cognitive dissonance.“This is impossible! I can’t learn an entire module in one weekend. I am a dreamer not a scholar! I have a wandering mind!” Roni sighed as she banged the back of her head against the wall.“Wandering eyes...” I silently corrected her.Marty, still with his ear on the crack and his belly on the carpet reassured her, “We only have to make it look like we are studying for like... five more seconds alright? I’m positive the Merlot is running low. When Mrs. VanCamp guzzles the last of it, we can bid this place a fuckin’ adieu.”“Marty, I just said I’m no scholar, okay? What the hell is adieu?” Roni closed her book and tossed it on the ground where it landed with a dull numb thud against the tan shag.George was the first to jump on a reply, “It’s what you say to eight of your brain cells each time you inhale with your peachy glossed lips around the butt of a joint. And you wonder why you lack a scholarly aptitude,” he continued to scribble black sharpie on to the toe of his boot to disguise the scuffs. He only had on one boot though, on his other foot was a green golash.John slowly closed his book and slid it aside him, “Speaking of scholars... I have an announcement to make. I got accepted to Marquette University on a basketball scholarship,” he sighed a bit of relief and smiled. John’s half black half Chinese and all American so there was always a lot of pressure on him growing up to be on top of his grades and his game.Roni was the first to squeal and clap, followed by Jules, then me who just clapped half-assedly and then Marty who gave a ‘Whoo-hoo!’ with his ear still at the crack. George congratulated him. Roni’s squeal was followed by a, “Shut up!”To which John replied, “No way. I’ve been sitting on that news all week. Now that it’s out I want to shout it at the roof tops!”Martin wiggled on the floor suggestively and cooed, “Aww yeah, now we definitely have to go extra hard tonight!”I snapped the cap on the pen and flicked it at Marty’s ass, “What for? To celebrate yet another one of us being ripped prematurely from the womb of our friendship? Come on now John, with Marty and George both at Tisch now I will be the only guy left here.”Roni chortled,  “Oh boo-hoo. You’re going to have to listen to nonstop gab about hair and pms... and romance?” For someone as deep and capable of profound thought as Roni seemed to be, she often spoke in nothing but cliches and stereotypes. It seemed to work, it was easy to tell what she meant, she was easy to figure out when she spoke to you. But when she looked at you, you could tell she had something else there she was trying to tell you, someone inside with a voice too quiet to hear or timid to come out. There was a lot of mystery to her blatant views.I rolled my  eyes, “Na, I wouldn’t dare talk romance with you. God forbid anyone mention love around Roni.” She looked at me blankly, but when I caught her glance back she smiled.Flatly, she told me, “How can you mention something that doesn’t exist?” Flat out, blatant, obvious, and cliched. Yet still haunting. And for me, who thought I was still in love with her, disappointing.“You may be the most depressing person I know,” I closed my book and leaned toward her.Roni shook her head at her from across the bed and leaned into a pillow, “Aw, and you may be the fakest person I know.”“Fake?”“Your views on all things love and,” she shuttered, “happiness, they are all so utterly absurd.”“Because I believe in that stuff it makes it absurd?” I gasped.“I agree with Bates,” said Jules, “I think love is the grandest emotion one can be lucky enough to achieve.”“I agree too,” George said, scribbling at his boot. We all stared at him utterly flabbergasted. When he noticed we were silent he looked up. Then he realized we were all staring at him. He rolled his eyes, “Oh come on. I know I think it’s completely stupid and I may sleep around a lot but I know that love does exist somewhere out there.” He nodded as if trying to convince himself, “The worlds a big place.” He waved his arms around, “Who am I to say?”Jules looked to Roni to respond but it never came. Jules then placed her hand on John’s shoulder, “Speaking of love,” John turned his head at the touch and watched closely as she moved her manicured hand up to his face then ran it through his hair, “John, what about me?”Pretending to be immune and unaware of her feminine wiles he replied, “What about you?” Her then feigned disbelief encouraged him to lightheartedly and flirtatiously nudge her arm and assure her he was all aware of their frequent on-again-off-again dalliances, “I’m just kidding.”George looked on with his face covered in an expression that read disgusted confusion, “I am so sick of you two.”“You’re sick of everything,” I told him.“Damn,” he deadpanned, “You got me pegged.” He smirked at me.Jules giggled, “Are you two still doing it?”I shrugged. Roni took the liberty of answering for us, “Every now and then. They both like having sex with each other but they know that there’s other people out there... why limit themselves? I think it’s very progressive.”“So chicks too?” Asked John for the thousandth time since I’d met him.I nodded, “Chicks too.” But the truth was, at that point, I’d only ever had sex with George. There’d be a few parties we’d go to where I’d maybe make out a little with a girl and then I’d tell George.
 
He would always ask after I told him, “Is she the one?” And I’d laugh and say no. Then usually, he and I would have sex or something very close to that.And contrarily wise, when he’d call me and tell me that he hooked up with or had sex with some girl or guy he met at The Leaf Lounge I’d ask, “Is she/he the one?” And it would be the same thing.
 
John looked at George, “And you’re sick of us? How often do you two sleep with other people then each other? How is that different from me and Jules?”I laughed, “Because we don’t fight until four AM, threaten to chop each other’s dicks off, then cry and cry and then have sex with other people before admitting our undying love for each other and make the same plans again for next week.”Roni started to laugh, “Uhg, that’s so cute. Love... commitment... I don’t buy it.”Marty rose from the ground and firmly grasped the doorknob, “Um, bitches? I hate to break up this back and forth verbal orgy you have got going on but, uh,” he twisted the knob and ran out onto the balcony. He thrusted his fists into the air and yelled echoing into the hills as birds flew to the setting sun in fear, “We are fucking free!”
 
The party that night was for no reason in particular. It was in an uppity house, because in the town we lived in, uppity houses and haughty neighborhoods were the only options. And the kid who lived there clearly wasn’t aware of how many millions the house was worth as she allowed kids by the hundreds to test the limits of the architecture.They climbed on the roof, the jumped off the walls, they didn’t have a care in the world. They tossed expensive furniture in the indoor pool and they tossed the contents of their stomachs into the outdoor pool. The gene pool of our town was slim; attractive rich males bred with attractive rich females to birth even more attractive and even wealthier progeny. One particular attractive wealthy progeny walked passed Jules as she ogled drunkenly and then fell into Roni’s arms in a fake fit of ecstasy, “Oh my word! Did you see him? He was magic! I must possess him!”I laughed as I watched Roni shook her off and helped her regain her balance, “We just got here, don’t you want to socialize? Or in your case, take inventory?”“The only thing I want to take inventory of are his teeth, with my tongue,” she laughed and involuntarily leaned into me this time. I immediately and out of habit and certainly learned from experience, leaned out of the way of possible vomit and the righted her body up again.“I do not understand you Jules. I thought you wanted John again,” I asked.Jules closed her eyes and pouted like a drunk toddler, “I know what I want! John and I are never like, seriously serious. I can’t even remember the last time we hooked up...” she opened her eyes to catch the same guy walk by again over her shoulder. She winked at Roni, “Watch this.” she took three steps back and the guy slammed into her side. He apologized and she looked up at him, “Oh it’s you,” she flirted as her drunken voice rasped and slurred, “I’ve seen you walk by a few times,” she wrapped her arms around his middle and he looked all too pleased to do the same, “Is that on purpose?”As the two walked away Roni stared at them shaking her head and then Jules turned her head over her shoulder floppily and sloppily, she made that universal scrunched up, tongue out drunk girl expression that said, “I am about to make a big slutty mistake”
 
Roni and I laughed at it until they disappeared into the crowd. I turned to Roni, “Have you seen George?”Her jaw dropped, “Giving up on the stock already to go and hook up with him?”I shook my head and laughed, “Roni, George is my friend. Okay? I like hanging out with him not just... you know.”She smiled and put her arm around me and we headed toward the kitchen, “Oh Bates, I’m so happy. You finally after all these years are putting yourself out there. It’s got to do with George. I mean, he was my first too. And he opened my eyes to a great new world and then he shoved me out of it.” We stopped walking and she turned to me, “Not saying that will happen to you. But if it does, you may need something to fall back to.” She was hinting at me putting myself out there more like George did. She thought I didn’t have anyone but him, but she didn’t know I had her. I was still so in love with her.“Roni, don’t worry. I’ll be fine.” I nodded toward the kitchen, “Can we please go get a drink?” She wholeheartedly agreed and we went to the kitchen, toasted, and downed a few unidentified party liquids (U.P.L’s) in red cups.
 
When I was nearly entirely wasted I leaned into Roni and yelled  over the bass and synths, “Roni! I think we should make out!”And she leaned back to fully look at me. I just laughed a little and waited for her to start kissing me. But she curled her finger in and out and told me to come closer. I put my mouth near hers and she just put her mouth to my ear instead and yelled, “I’m not George!”I leaned back, “I know. I know you aren’t! That’s why I--”I got cut off by Roni’s favorite song so she “just had” to go and dance to it. And I let her run away. I watched her dancing from afar for a little. Then I saw Jules and John screaming at each other in a corner. So I headed for the balcony.
 
I followed my nose to where I knew George was. And there he was, leaning back, his shades on, looking at the stars, puffing away. His Judd Nelson coat was just barely sweeping against the balcony floor. I walked up to him, but he didn’t notice me right away. I snagged the blunt out of his hand and walked away to lean over the edge of the balcony.He came over a few seconds later and joined me. “What do you think?” He asked with a smile.I blew out smoke, “It’s nice. It’s kind of like the Purple Urkle or whatever we had last week.”He cracked up, “It is the Purple. But that’s not what I meant. I meant what do you think of this party? It’s kind of fast paced. I needed to chill out and think for a while. I mean... there’s a whole sofa in the pool.”I passed the blunt back to him, “And John and Jules are at it again.”His eyes got wide, “They’re fucking on the dance floor like at winter formal?”I shook my head, “No, not that kind of at it,” I corrected, “I mean about to slit each other’s throats.”He nodded and half smiled, taking a quick inhale, “Oh... at it.” He took another inhale then tossed it over the rail, “We aren’t like that, right? I mean what we were saying back at Marty’s... we’re different somehow.”I didn’t know how we were to be honest. I knew our relationship was way different, maybe even better, but I wasn’t sure why. “Yeah totally. We don’t confuse sex with love. They say they love each other and then they fuck other people and think that they love those other people just because they had sex with them. We aren’t like that.”He nodded. “God I’ll tell you... this world is one big bubble factory.”“Bubble factory?”“People are getting more and more filled up with air. Less and less substance. Wearing thin. shiny, and round.”“Round?”“Round is the worst bit of it all... they think they’re so cool...” he hinted and smiled at me.I chuckled, “And not square?”He laughed and light a cigarette, “Exactly.”I watched him smoke for a little while then asked, “Wouldn’t that make them cubed?”He shrugged, “Eh, same thing, right?” It wasn’t but whatever.“Bubble factory...” I said, “And one day, we’ll burst. We’ll rise too high or just get poked too hard.” I made a pop noise with my mouth. I didn’t hear George say anything for a while so I looked at him.I realized he was just staring at me, his jaw dropped. His cigarette still burned there, on the edge of his lip. “Ain’t it the truth? A-fuckin’-men, man. Amen. Preach.” And he and I fist pounded. “Cigarette?” He asked.“Ah... no thanks. I don’t like cancer or death or tar in my body.”He looked offended, “Well you aren’t stopping me, doll. What the hell? Don’t you care if I get cancer and drop?”“I like to let you form your own opinions and that goes the same for forming your own tumors. You wanna smoke, smoke.”“And if I wanna die, die?”I gave him a look, “Oh you know what I mean you big drama queen.” This shut him up a little and he started to laugh again.“So did you get lucky anywhere tonight?” He asked me.I thought back to my strike out with Roni. “Um... I didn’t throw up yet. That’s pretty lucky.”“I mean did you get any?” He said, “Any action?”I frowned and shrugged, “Not really.”“Not even a little...” he motioned to his chest and mimed having boobs. I laughed and shoved him in the chest.“Jesus, you’re such a child.”“Please, I’m a man.”“There is,” I laughed, “No difference.” He laughed and nodded saying it was true. I rolled my eyes and confided, “I mean I saw some good looking girls and all that but I don’t know, none of them really paid me a second glance.”“Yeah I know how that can be.”“No you don’t.”He thought about it, “Yeah you’re right. Any guys though?” I shook my head ‘no’. “Right... So...”“So?”“I don’t know... this is a big house, lots of rooms. Some are bound to be unoccupied.”I leaned my head on his shoulder, “I don’t really want to re-enter that scene.”He agreed, “Yeah, I’ve been out here since we arrived really. There’s lots of shrubs. It’s very shrubby.” So we went to the shrubs. We ended up not too much longer in the basement of this house where the party was where the vibe had a more balcony feel. All the kids were doing drugs I never really associated with and neither had George really at that point. He looked around at all of them lounging in the beanbag chairs and couches, he saw them roll around on each other and laugh through the thick smoke in the air. He was admiring them, he was getting a major kick out of all of it, this was his scene. And his face light up when he saw a keyboard in the corner. He made a beeline for it, stepping over people and chairs and he sat on the stool right behind it and began to familiarize himself with it. I pulled up a beanbag chair and sat next to this druggie girl with bright yellow hair that was in my physics named Michelle and watched George closely.“He’s so fucking hot,” she moaned.I looked at her and laughed, “Yeah he is.”Michelle squealed and rolled onto her back and looked at me upside down, “Are you two like boyfriends?”I narrowed my eyes and sneered at her, “No, no. Not even.”“Roni Stevens tells me you're gay, aren’t you and George sometimes gay? That’s what the rumors are.”Before I was able to say anything about rumors and why people shouldn’t listen to them, or argue that I wasn’t all that gay despite having just performed homosexual acts on a man, I was interrupted by a synth tone from the keyboard George had commandeered.He began to sing, “All that I believe in is the concept of time. I wrote this song this morning, so I don’t have a better rhyme. Any suggestions? Just throw ‘em out there, I really don’t care. At this point it just seems fair, please help me! Oh dear Christ, this is so embarrassing. Oh dear God, this is going all wrong. Why did I decide to sing, this unfinished song?” I laugh with some other people who are sober enough to follow along, and George keeps singing, “All that I believe in is the concept of time. Jesus Christ, I still can’t think of a single fucking rhyme, I’m so annoying. And this is boring. Why is lyricism so damn hard? Here come the singers police to revoke my singer’s card. Yeah, we have cards... we couldn’t call them licenses... it’s a legal thing. And we don’t know law too well... we just like to sing. Hence the singing card. Fucking hell singing is hard.” The synths got darker, “Oh no... Oh shit... here it comes. This is it... the tempo is slowing and I still don’t know where the hell I’m going! With any of this... this is it... the chorus. Oh fucking shit!” And he kicked it back up, “Holy shit! Holy shit! I cannot fucking do this! Why did I decide to write, my mom was right! I should have been a painter or a gangster or a prankster like Ashton Kutcher was or major in... philosophy... or something worth a damn. If I had listened to the boss of me and studied I might maybe understand. Or at least ask Demi Moore if I could have her old lady hand. But I decided to be a writer, and put my wounded heart up on a shelf. But I can’t think of a good chorus, So I’ll just repeat myself,” he broke down the melody and scream-sang, “Repeat myself! Repeat myself! Re-pea-t myself! Repeat myself! Repeat myself! Re-pea-t myself.”I cheered him on and everyone else joined in. He winked at me and went on singing, “All that I believe in is the concept of time. If we keep going long enough we may find that sign. The one we have been waiting for our whole damn wasted lives. And if you keep going long enough perhaps you’ll find that rhyme! And if you work hard enough maybe you’ll learn to write! And maybe if you're lucky enough you’ll make it to the last day of your life! All that I believe in is that concept of great time! I think I want to slow down time...” he slowed down into the end of the song, “So I don’t get overwhelmed. And until I get to do so I guess I will... repeat myself! Repeat myself! Re-pea-t myself! Repeat myself! Repeat myself-- Look ma! I’ve got a chorus! Re-pea-t myself! Repeat myself! I don’t have to become a florist! Re-pea-t! Myself! Repeat myself! Repeat myself. Re-pea-t myself.” We all applauded as he milked the last sounds out of the keys as long as he could and then slammed it all out. Then he whispered, “And retreat into myself.” He leaned back and caught his breath.After a few seconds, he sat back up and pressed a few buttons. He pressed some keys until a normal piano sound came out of the speakers and he got back into his playing position. “I want to dedicate this song to someone I think is a really cool dude,” and he looked at me. And I wish he could have just kept sitting there forever, like he said, and I could slow down time to not get overwhelmed. He just seemed like so much more than I’d ever be, and I was shocked he ever thought I was interesting or special because I couldn’t even compare to him in my mind. I wanted to keep him there in that moment, when he thought I was special. I didn’t want time to go on because I didn’t want him to get better and see me stay the same.George looked back down at the keys, “Bates, you and I have some of the best conversations in the dark. And at night when it’s just me and you after a long week or a crazy party and we’re laying there until the sun rises just shooting the shit... it’s like talking to yourself. Shouting at the void, speaking to the darkness. I can tell you anything and it stays in the shadows and is dead by morning. You, sir, are my friend, the truest friend I have ever had.” And I smiled at my feet and heard him play one of his haunting piano tunes. And he began to sing, “Careful, now I’m hurting and I cannot speak. I wonder how I’m earning all the patience that you keep. Still I’m waiting for the daylight, and I’m patient in the moonlight and there’s no time left to sleep... For what is spoken in the moonlight in the morning’s sound asleep. Easy, now I’m fumbling, I can hear all the dogs cry. Noses to the moonbeams as they wait out all the night. We sit through the night and we just talk until dawn. When the sun shines through our eyelids we won’t ask where time has gone. Don’t leave the sheets we’re tangled in, It’s colder on the ground. Don’t turn the light on next to you, light speaks softer than silent sounds. For what’s confessed in the darkness in a new light’s never seen. For what’s spoken in the nighttime by the morning’s never been.” And he gets up from behind the keyboard and walks passed me and everyone else clapping for him and heads to some guy in the back.I turned around and watched them talk for a little, I hardly recognized the guy. So I went over to them and George smiled and introduced us, “Bates, this is Cale. He’s a buddy from The Leaf Lounge.”Cale nodded at me, “Sweet muse work.”“Pardon?” I asked.He pointed at the keyboard, “That last one was about you. No one ever congratulates the muse for inspiring the insane.”“The insane?” I asked. Cale’s eyes were widely dilated and his speech was slurred to a near incoherent rasp.He looked at George as he answered me, “The ones forced to describe what they see on a page when all it is is a mess.”George nods, “No use crying over spilled ink. Ha, there lies the fault, Cale. Not in our minds. Society never blames the inkblot for not being more than just a mess on a page. They blame the so called insane for not seeing what they want them to see. And then they think we can’t clean ourselves up? They think we’re the mess, not the inkblot. They think to blame the inkblot for being just a mess on a page is insanity. And to have someone pick out something from within a mess, is the right way to diagnose them.”He gives Cale one last glance, “Thanks again, man.” And he put his arm around my shoulders and lead me to the opposite corner of the basement.“What did you thank him for?” I asked as I leaned into the corner. But he didn’t answer and just started to make out with me for a while.We were down there for some time when George got pulled off me. I opened my eyes and saw it was Roni and she looked panicked, “George, quick! We’re at death con five or six or twenty three.”I got up off the wall, “Jules?”She nodded at me, “Jules.”George, without a word bolted up the stairs. I looked at Roni, “How bad?”She shot me a look that said, ‘I’ve seen things. Bad things.’ She told me, “Homecoming bad.” And that was enough for me. We both sprinted up the stairs. Roni yelled after George, “She’s in the outdoor pool!”
 
We ran through the house, pulled Marty from behind the DJ booth where he and some scary looking kids were blasting house music, told him we were at Homecoming level death con fucked up the ass mode and he ran with us to the pool in the back yard.
 
The three of us ran out to the back yard and stared at the mess in the pool. Most of the vomit had filtered out thankfully, but there was a new mess in the water and her name was Jules. Her dress was billowed out around her as she swayed in the shallow end. Her makeup ran down her face as she smiled up at the stars. She ran her hands through her wet tangled hair and sang, “La Da La La, Da Da Da. Laaa Da Da Da Da, Dee dee!”“Holy fuck...” Marty gasped. Roni smiled in an ‘I told you so’ and I admit I just laughed at her.Jules swirled toward a crowd of boys videotaping her, “My dress is Brandy Melville and my shoes are in the bush. You’re watching E!” She beamed into the lense.A boy filming on his phone laughed and said, “No, I think you are on E!”This only made Jules smile bigger and talk louder, “Oh so this is live?! Hi mom! Look at me I’m on E!” The guys as well as Marty and I just laughed harder.Roni slapped George on the arm, “Please help this! Before she gets a dang web redemption!” George looked at Roni and smiled.“Oooh, getting authoritarian, I can dig it,” he pulled his glasses to the top of his head and winked at her. He stepped toward the pool’s edge and snapped his fingers, “Hey, hey. Richardson, out of the pool man let’s go!” He chuckled a bit at his own reference, “You’re being a tool man.” I laughed at his reference to a movie he and I both love to death and he shot me a quick smirk.Jules didn’t hear him and flipped onto her back and floated away. Marty slapped his forehead, “Oh shit,” he ran his hands down his face, stretching his eyes down and exposing his bottom row of teeth.Roni saw his agonized and embarrassed expression and scolded him, “Now you see what I have been dealing with.”“You need a drink,” he assured her.“Focus please!”From across the pool, now in the deep end we could hear Jules say, “Anyone fancy a dip? I know I am not the only one!”Marty got on his knees and gripped the lip of the pool, craning his neck to get as closer to her as he can without getting in he kindly yelled, “Jules! Jules? Sweetie, I think it is time we get out of the tub hun...”Jules violently dog paddled over, “Tub? Hun? You are not my mother!” She stopped swimming and stood up once she reached the shallow end, “You are a snort!” She cackled at her primary school reference.“Okay, okay,” Marty got up from the ground and leaned into George and Roni, “Well she’s officially a lost cause.”To prove his point Jules yelled, “Strawberry Jacuzzi!”Roni closed her eyes and hid her face in her hands only for a few brief moments before she heard louder splashing and Jules yelling, “Oh look it’s my hero!” She opened her eyes and slid her hands out of the way to see John wading in the pool fishing her out. And she smiled and sighs in relief.“There we go,” I said as I put an arm around Roni, “You can stop worrying now.”“No, no...” she warned, “It was him who got her in this state, I don’t think he can get her out. They were going nuts on each other. It had to do with him leaving for Marquette.”George groaned, “Oh shit. I knew that’d be an issue. She better not make him stay and go to community college here like some...” Us future community college students, myself and Roni shot him a glare, “I mean... I’m sorry I can’t save myself.”“Ugh, anyways, we should bail. Get Jules home, then I need to finally drink. Bates?” I raised my eyebrows at her, “Can we go to your place? Have some after party drinks?”“You and...”“Me, you and George?” Roni said as if it was obvious.Marty leaned into our triangle, “Oh gee, thanks guys. I’m fine on my own.”Roni shoved his face away, “Oh shut up. You’ve got work tomorrow morning anyway. So Bates, what do you say?”“I’m guessing you are suggesting this because Lance and my mom are out for their anniversary and my dad thinks I’m at your place?” She nodded and smiled. I gave in. In the pool Jules splashed her way drunkenly to John, “I heard you in there you uncaring bastard!”We had all heard. It was soon after mine and Roni’s first round, before I asked her to make out with me. John had made a toast to his jock buddies:In the kitchen the entire high school varsity basketball team and a few of the frosh-soph teammates bold enough to try and associate themselves with upperclassmen, and lucky enough to succeed, we all standing around John who was standing on a table. In each of their hands was a shot glass or a red plastic cup like in the movies all filled with UPL’s.The UPL’s looked like they were a brown, thick and potent smelling liquid which all of whom drunk enough to attempt to imbibe it were alas too drunk to identify the substance. And yet the young and reckless alcoholics of the future toasted with it anyway, with John’s lead. “So a toast to me! May I rock Michigan and may you all not wallow in depression in my absence. May I soar high above my own expectations, my enemies, my challengers,  my competition... should there be any, and especially all those who ever dared to doubt me, for I am an Eagle now baby!” They all cheered loudly and all the outsiders in the living room and on the connecting balcony turned their heads to witness the commotion.John downed what he had poured into his glass then chased it with what was left in the bottle. When he realized it was empty he chucked it at the nearest wall and watched it explode with the impact and listened to the thunderous cheers of his fellow teammates and the screams of the startled drunken teenage girls.He then leapt off the table only to be high-fived and patted on the back by all the guys waiting below. One which asked, “Dude, why so far?”“Nothing is holding me here. Jules doesn’t want to get serious, my parents couldn’t be more thrilled to get me out of the house and into a place where I’m forced to study and play ball all day. The only thing I care about right now, is basketball. And shit, if someone wants to pay for me to play all day long you know I am going to run in that direction as fast as I can.”That’s when my drunken self yelled over to them, totally busting John, “Then why did you tell me you bailed out on practice today?”John eyed me up and down, trying to intimidate me before slowly replying, “...Celebrating,” he smashed the shot glass on the ground and then took the red cup from some frosh-soph’s hand and turned his back on me. He yelled back to his admirers, “Besides, I’m above high school shit teams anyhow,” he slurred with intoxicated confidence, “I am a college player now.”He watched beyond the crowd and gazed out to the balcony where Jules was taking inventory of that hot guys teeth with her tongue. I caught his smile fall, “I am invincible!” And Jules looked at him, “I don’t need anyone, because once I get to Marqu-easy, I’mma be drownin’ in the pussy!” Which was always a metaphor that disturbed me and that has nothing to do with being gay... or not being gay, what ever I am or was or is. That just sounds like a horrible way to go. Plus I don’t know whether you’re like... trapped in one giant vagina and the vaginal walls are closing in on you or if you’ve some how gotten into a predicament in which you are in a sea of vaginas and you’re drowning and breathing small vaginas into your lungs until you give up and let the vaginal tide and the waves of vaginas overtake you; I’m a visual person and the vagueness as well as the overall unsanitary-ness of the attige alway irked me.“Excuse me boys,” said John turning to them again and ignoring Jules’ stare, “But I’m going to get started, and I see a girl I want to hook up with.”And he left the crowd as they parted a path for him shouting “Ooh's” and “Oh’s” at the top of their lungs.Once out of their lump of people and into another where the team couldn’t see him, John checked his surroundings before ducking into the bathroom and closing and locking the door behind him.
 
I never knew until ten years later when John told me over drinks what he did in that bathroom because I always thought he cried or jerked off or something. He also told me that he always kind of disliked me just because my name was also John, even though I never went by John or any variation thereupon, he kind of thought I was invading his personal space. Anyhow, that was ten years after this night that he told me that, and he told me what he did in that bathroom and I made him swear on his unborn children so I know he’s not making this up and I don’t know why he would want to but:He told me the truth was he swigged the last bit in the cup then crushed it and chucked it into the toilet. He sighed heavily and audibly twice as he gripped tightly onto the edge of the counter. He panted and shook his head, shaking out his thoughts and a few maddened tears. He looked up from the sink and into his reflection of his pained expression. A few moments passed where he grimaced at himself as he panted heavily. The grimace slowly turned up into a smile as the pants turned into hearty crazed laughs. He let go of his tight grip on the sink and kissed two of his fingers and then pressed the kiss onto the reflection, “You’re sexy,” he told himself as he unlocked and opened the door and shut out the light behind him. Leaving all his mixed and panicked emotions behind him and in the dark.That’s his story and I’m sticking to it.
 
Back in the pool John told her, “Jules! You’re drunk! You’re not remembering right!”“I was barely drunk when I HEARD WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT DROWNING IN PUSSY!”His face went red, “IT’S A FIGURE OF SPEECH!”She crossed her arms, “I thought you cared about me,” and she gave him the cold shoulder.“Babe...” he whined.“No!”“Babe...”“Leave me alone, cumwad!” I laughed because I hadn’t heard anyone say cumwad before.“I was only mad because seeing you with that other guy made me realize that I don’t really want to leave you, Jules. You’re my angel! And I don’t like seeing or thinking about you being with someone else when I leave.”She finally looked at him again, “I don’t want to imagine you DROWNING IN PUSSY!”“I DIDN’T MEAN THAT!”She splashed him and he splashed her. “Stop it!”John grunted as he moved closer to her, “You started it!”“John, knock it off!” She splashed more and whined and he got angrier. They splashed closer and closer to each other until Jules fell onto John and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. “I love you,” she cried.He kissed her, “I love you too. And I’m leaving. So lets make the best of our time left, let’s never fight again. Let’s make love every day.”Jules and lifted up her legs for him to carry her. She leaned into his ear to seductively whisper, “John, babe... I’m going to pass out.” Her neck flopped over backwards and her eyes shut closed. At first John was concerned but then she stuck out her tongue and went, “Blahhhh!” and he shook his head at her as he climbed the steps out.
 
Roni came running over, she bent down and scooped some guy’s jacket off the ground and draped it over Jules, the soggy, wet mess. John told her as she continued to play dead, “Jules, angel-baby, I love you but you are not coming to my house again, not tonight, okay?” he carried her still as he walked toward the side gate as we all followed behind, “You’ve been banned from there.”We exited the backyard and were rounding the corner to the front of the house when Marty sprinted ahead with his keys out. He ran across the street and leapt into his car and immediately roared it to life and burned rubber as he zipped back to the driveway.Everyone out front turned to see what was going on but Roni sent them all way, scaring them with threats of violent sexual imagery and asked them to make way for the car.Marty pulled in and Roni opened the door for John to lay Jules down but George quickly took advantage and stepped in front of them, kissed the top of Roni’s head, saying, “Thanks sweets,” and dove into the far corner of the back seat and light a cigarette. I smiled shyly as I slid passed Roni too. I shrugged and she glared then I sat next to George.Roni helped John maneuver Jules into the car. Jules shot her head up, back from the dead and gasped, “John did you just say I can’t come over?”“Jesus christ,” he whispered as he lowered her into the seat and tried to get her to lay her head in my lap.“Johnny no! You have the best plumbing and I know I will be very thankfull for that tonight, okay? I can feel the past coming back to haunt my esophagus!”John hopped into the front seat, Roni crammed into the back with us and draped Jules’ wet and shivering legs on her lap. Marty reversed and headed out of the neighborhood, “No way,” John turned around to face Jules, “my dad made it very clear that that last weekend was the last weekend he catches you on my bathroom floor passed out and mumbling the words to Party in the USA.”Marty turned down the next street, “Well that is a rather catchy tune...” he paused at the gate and waited for it to open, until it did he, looked at Jules in the rear view mirror, “I’d have you over Jules but my parents think we are studying for a psych test so...”“They know studying makes you sick but we might be pushing it tonight...” George said through puffs of smoke.“And I don’t think you would be willing to get up to got to church with my family at six in the morning, would you?” Roni lied. She took Jules’ moaning as a no. “Why don’t we just drop you off at your mom’s?”Jules shot up as if she was shot in the heart with an adrenaline needle, “No!” The car lurched a bit when Marty got startled, “I can’t go there, not in this condition. Her new guy is going to slap me again!”Roni’s eyes widened and she brushed the wet clinging hair out of her friend's face, “Again? Kerry? Jules, has Kerry ever hurt you?”Before she had the chance to answer George chimed in, “She can stay at my place. My dad and Mel are definitely out cold by now. I’ll put her in the laundry room upstairs. I’ll dry her clothes, the machine will hopefully drown out the sounds of her retching her guts out and singing out dated Hannah Montana songs. My dad loves you, Jules, he’ll take you home once Kerry’s left for work.,” he dragged his cigarette and mused in his brilliant plan.I smiled at him, “That is very smart and kind of you.”“Kind? Not my thing. Smart? Yes, I will take that, considering you have to be dumb to be as happy as you seem to be 24/7.”“So you think I’m dumb?” I asked, as I pulled down the hem of Jules’ dress covering her exposed, goosebump covered ass.George blew smoke right into my face then put out his cigarette in the crook of his elbow on his jacket, “Darling, you are the dumbest person I have ever met.”“You make me dumb,” I told him. And he smiled at me.John scoffed, “Hey, Marty, remember when George was actually a positive and upbeat guy to be around?”George threw the burnt out butt of the cigarette at him, “Yeah, in the innocent and awkward years of middle school when nothing made sense. Once you start to figure shit out you wish you never began. Cause that is when all life’s shit hits the fan.”“Okay what Greenday song is that lyric from?”George leaned back into the seat and slid his glasses back on, “I just made it up, keep it for yourself if you’d like.”“Yeah I might...”Martin hung a left and got onto the freeway to take Jules to George’s place first, “George is right, I am so glad I am stupid.”
 
The three of us got into my house after about an hour of searching for the hid-a-key. It was in the palmtree and when I yanked it out of where it had been stabbed in the trunk I held it over my head and yelled, “VICTORIOUS!”George and Roni were down aways on the driveway and misheard me which prompted them to start singing Biggie Smalls’ “Notorious”.
 
We got inside around three AM and Roni went to my room to borrow some  more comfortable clothes. I figured I’d at least have a few pairs of her pants lying around from previous times she’d spent the night, I could say the same for George too. But he didn’t change. He just went to my kitchen and started making us Jack and Coke. I watched him closely as his Judd Nelson coat bloomed billowed as he turned the corners. When he’d poured the liquor he shrugged it off and was just wearing a Joy Division T-shirt. He had tattoos under each wrist that I always loved and knew he’d gotten illegally when he was sixteen. They were a slurry of sayings in a million different fonts. The words were so smashed together and the letters were so elongated and elegant I never really could tell what they said.I looked at his long brown hair, not the brown that looked black but the brown that was properly brown. It was soft and well kept, he had olive skin and green eyes. I asked him, “George, can I ask you something?”Without looking up he answered, “You just did.”“Can I ask you another thing?”He chuckled and looked up, “Yeah, man. Shoot.”“Why are you so dark?”He poured in the soda, “I spend a lot of time in the sun.”“I’m being serious,” I said.He screwed on the cap, “Because the world is darker. So compared to this universe, I hate to break it to you sweets, I am a beacon of light. And you,” he pointed at me, “Are a blinding obnoxious headache... like the sun. I of course, am not like the sun.” He made a sarcastic face at me, “Because I’m so dark.”“So I’m the sun?” He nodded, “Does your world revolve around me then?” I asked, totally joking.He got this mischievous smile and just told me, flat and deadpan, “You are my sunshine.” I was taken aback, then his smile got even more mischievous, “My only sunshine. You make me happy even when skies are grey-- which is a hard thing to do. You’ll never know, dear how much I...” and he slowed down and went to go put the bottle of soda back in the fridge, “I need you. For vitamin D and to photosynthesis my trees so I can get oxygen. I’ll never be as bright as you, lovely sun. Oh no. Because I am so so dark.”I rolled my head back, “You know what I mean. Like, between you and Roni, it’s like you two horror theater and I’m Punch and Judy.”“Punch was a sociopathic murderer.”“Yeah but... that’s not what I meant.”“You know that’s where that phrase comes from, Pleased as Punch? That’s where we get that term. Because Punch was so pleased everytime he murdered someone. So when somebody is as pleased as Punch... they are just as sociopathically and manically happy and pleased with themselves as a murderous puppet.”“See that’s what I mean by dark.” He laughed and put the soda back in the fridge. “And why do you wear so much black?”“It’s slimming,” he said as he slid my drink to me.“The drugs?”He shrugged, “Creativity? Sue me. I’m not like a junkie, it’s only on weekends and stuff when I do that shit. Bates, you’ve known me pretty intimately for a while now, why are you all the sudden questioning me?”“Because I know you intimately and I want to know the person that I’m intimate with.”Roni came into the kitchen with her hair up in a bun wearing nothing but a sports bra she left behind after we went to the gym and a pair of my boxer shorts I’d left on my bed from when George was over last. “So I forgot to tell you guys I totally failed that psych test today.”I looked at her questionably, “The one about the CNS or the personality test?”She looked at me like I was daft and took her drink from George, “You cannot fail a personality test.”“Oh yes you can,” George sang, “One day your mind is working how you want it to, your left brain is filing stuff away and planning you day and your right brian still keeps giving you ideas to draw and orgasms and all that. Then one shuts off or gives up and next thing you know you’re on a plush chaise staring at inkblots and having to make up a story about a boy sitting on a park bench all because you failed to meet the societal standards of sanity.”I decided to not be left out of their deep conversation this time like I usually was and chimed in, “You go back on how you’ve always thought...”George sighed, “Feel things you never knew you’d feel.”Roni looked at George curiously, “What did yours say?”He stared at me, “Doesn’t matter.” I got up from the counter and went and sat on the floor in the living room, I leaned my back against the couch. Roni and George joined me on either side.“Anyways I tried really hard to do well on that test and got fucked. There’s no justice.”George chuckled, “No justice, that’s cute.”“But accurate.”George leaned over me to Roni, “But pathetic. Look, sweets--”“Don’t call me that,” she demanded.He looked at me and rolled his eyes then went back to her and said, “Okay, sour tits. There is justice in the world, and to say there’s not is like saying math is hard and you’re a bad test taker. We all know what it really means. You don’t grasp the real concepts, you don’t pay attention, you don’t study. There is justice in the world and it’s why half the kids we were with tonight will probably go to Hell. There’s plenty of justice, not enough chaos. That’s our purpose as youths, Roni, destruction of ourselves and those around us.  Destroy the world you live in to create a universe you can exist in.”“We’ll be saved when we’re dead,” I say, trying to chime in. “And we are damned as we live.” I think I came off sounding more sarcastic.Roni smiled, “This is why I love just us three. We’re all on the same page.”I scoffed, “I am not on your guys’ page. Not even close. You two are too dark.”“What?” They both gasped.“I’ll prove it. Ronni, what is love?”She tossed back the last of her drink and then spoke strongly, “Love, what is love? Well to answer your cliche inquiry I must first ask what is life? Of course it is only our fear of death that keeps us alive. I can assume that this so called love of which you speak, is the same. Our fear of rejection drives us to the arms of others. Fearing we won't be accepted elsewhere even if we desire to be is why people cheat. And the fear of rejection is why those who get cheated on stay and suffer and ruminate on all their flaws when in reality, love is flawed. Lovers are fools. So what is love you ask? It’s a foolish flawed scheme full of fools believing in the foolish belief that love is anything more than foolish lies, suffering, and fear.”We all just sat there. I blinked and then turned to George. I knew he’d say ditto or go into an even deeper darker monologue on why love is a meaningless profession into the oblivion of the abyss of the rejection of yourself, in fear that in order to be loved you must first hate who you are. “George, what about you?”George looked at me and said, “Love is the unyielding force that holds us to the Earth but allows us to soar above all else. It’s what pushes us forward but makes us fall back on our morals and beliefs. It’s what confuses us without our permission but also what explains everything when we allow it to. It’s the harsh truth but also the comforting lie we tell ourselves to keep us happy. It gives us the belief that we can be better than what we want to be but also gives us the courage to accept who we are.”I stared at him, “George?”“What? Look just because I don’t think love means the same as having sex doesn’t mean I think love isn’t out there. I think it is. I just haven’t had the real thing.”“What’s the real thing?” I had to ask“When you know that if you listed why you loved that person, they’d give you the same list of reasons back.” He nodded and looked away. “So you’re wrong. We’re not both dark. Roni’s gotten darker...” He smirked at her, “I didn’t know I still had that effect on you.”Roni and I laughed and she sighed, “Oh my boys.”George ran a hand through his hair, “And by the way, Roni, I totally disagree about that whole acceptance thing. I never want to be accepted. I’d hate knowing that there was someone out there, or some people out there, just like me. I don’t want to be another white, cut wood block, stamped copy of God’s Daily Journal. I don’t want the same letter head and the same stories written all over me as someone else. I want to be my own personal diary. I want to be my own story.”
 
And we drank the rest of the bottle of whiskey and watched late night television programs until Roni retired to my room and slept in my bed. As we were dozing off together on the floor George turned to me, “Bates,” he called.“Yeah?”
He hesitated. Then told me, “You make me dumb too.”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

When the late sun shone bright and annoyingly through our eyes we woke up. George was up first, leaning back and forth in Lance’s reclining chair. The constant squeaking finally got me to lift my head dizzily off the floor.“Food.” Grunted GeorgeI rubbed my eyes, “You are a caveman.”“I’m a man,” he countered.“You’re a nuisance.”He slapped the back of my head, “Food!” He ran to the bottom of the stairs and yelled up to Roni, “Roni! We’re going to Velvet!”Velvet was this old rustic place where Marty worked at the time. He had been there since it opened and was basically like the owners son by that point. He always was able to get us free stuff here and there and was allowed to sit at our table sometimes. Velvet was run by this really chill old dude, and it looked like an organic-gluten-free-high-society-bohemian-hipster-mom-and-pop-hole-in-the-wall shack but it was a pretty decent sized cooperation across the California coast.Roni yelled from upstairs, “Give me a sec.”I yawned, “What time is it? I bet Marty’s shift is over by now.”George walked back into the living room, “It’s ten.”“Ten?” I gasped. I flopped back onto the floor, “You guys go. I’m going back to bed.” “Oh what, do you have other plans?” He joked. “Yes,” I replied, my voice muffled from my mouth being pressed against the carpet. “What, to stay at home and jerk off all day?” “Yes.” “Na, the day is starting. Up and at ‘em. The sun’s got his hat on, mate. Let’s go!” And he clapped his hands by my ear which did nothing helpful for my oncoming liver attack. After a few seconds of silence I had thought he’d gone away. But eventually I felt his breath by my ear and he asked, “What happens to a dream deferred?” And I was so out of it I barely thought I had a knowledgable reply, “Nothing. All dreams are deferred. If they were anything but deferred they’d be realities.” I was mostly hinting at getting back to dreamland myself but George took it differently. It was a few seconds of silence and I almost fell back asleep. But then I felt George’s lips on my forehead and he kissed it quick, “Beautiful.” He told me as he stood up. I opened my eyes and watched him walk away, his Judd Nelson coat flapping behind him, “You are absolutely beautiful.” I pulled myself off the ground and we were off.  Roni drove my mom’s car, I was in the passenger seat watching her the whole time. I every so often checked the road too as she would look down to change the track on her iPod we had playing through the sound system. “Roni, stop.” “Hang on... I’ve got a good one on here I just have to find it.” I put my hand on her’s, “No. Stop sign. It’s a legal thing.” She looked up and slammed the breaks. We all lurched forward. “Everyone okay?” Roni nodded, then looked right back down at her iPod. “Aw man,” George sighed from the backseat, “My whole life just flashed before my eyes...” He looked on forward in horror. “And?” I asked. “I’m a slut.” I tried not to laugh and looked back at my hand, still on Roni’s. I blushed as I moved it, “Sorry.” She smiled at me then looked back down to her iPod, “No worries. I’d rather get to first base with you than be knocking on the pearly gates, right now.” That immediately sent tingles through me, Roni openly said she’d rather hold hands with me than be in Heaven. Which was funny, because holding her hand, to me, it was my own personal preview of Heaven. She finally selected a tune and pulled away from the stop sign, continuing down the road. “What song is this?” Asked George after a minute or so. Roni looked at him in the rear view mirror, “It’s Joy Division, hello.” He narrowed his eyes and sat up, “Oh, is it? I’ve never really listened to them.” “Aren’t you wearing their shirt?” She asked. He leaned back and spread his arms out over the backs of the seats, “Yeah but I only wear it because it makes me look cool. For some reason if you like Joy Division you’re really deep, profound and cool.” “So... you’re a poser. I thought you hated posers,” I told him. “No,” he held out a finger, “I hate posers who call themselves hipsters. Or any synonym of that word... indie, independent, alternative, interesting, blah blah blah. You should be interesting without having to force yourself to like something. I’m not trying to be interesting, I’m just trying on a shirt that happens to make people think I am. Interesting.” I laughed, “You stole it from some hipster chick you had sex with didn’t you?” He tried to hide his smile but he never really could hide anything from me, “Michelle. Yellow Head Michelle. Last week, I told you about her.” “Ha, yeah, You did.” “That was a weird gym period... Roni, you’ve got some fucked up friends.” She skipped the Joy Division track, “Yeah and the worst ones are right here with me.” “Pardon me?” I said, offended. I flicked her shoulder because I thought that was flirting. She flicked me back over and over again until I told her, “Red light.” She shot her attention back on the road and slammed the brakes again. “Oh no!” Yelled George, “My life flashed by again!” I turned around, “And?” He took a few deep breaths then looked dead serious at me, “I know where my missing Hellogoodbye album is.” Roni laughed as she sped back up when the light changed, “Ha! Hellogoodbye?” “Respect the classics, Ron.” He argued. She looked at me exhausted as I turned back around to co-pilot, “You were about to argue that you aren’t fucked up?” “Fuck you,” George yelled from the back seat. “We’re totally fine.” I claimed. “Naa... see that’s why I set you two up. You were the most fucked up people I knew, I figured you two would have to cancel some of each other’s weird shit out some how.” George and I exchanged glances and asked her simultaneously, “And?” “You amplified it.”  Velvet was nearly packed with trendy teenagers and hungover college students all smoking on the patio or drawing on the paper table cloths inside. A few of the college kids who were known to frequent The Leaf Lounge passed our table. George nodded and smiled at them as they passed, all saying, “Hey Dash.” When they were gone I asked, “Why do the Leaf people call you Dash?” He scribbled on the paper table cloth, “It has to do with the first reading I did there, in eighth grade called, ‘I Am That Great Dash.’” “So what does that mean you’re super fast?” I asked. He looked up from the drawing and gave me a look, “Bates, you and I both know, I am not at all that fast.” I didn’t say anything, not wanting to indulge him. He leaned over to me and drew a headstone. On it he wrote the dates: 1902-1967. “See that thing in the middle? That is me... or us. That’s all of us, all our time. Everything we ever did, became, or were is that thing in the middle of life and death, that dash is our lives. I want my dash to be long and lived.” I nod and smile at it, “No doubt it will be.” I put my chin in my hand, “Tell me, Lysander, how do you do it?” “Do what?” “Stay so deep and yet still manage not drown in your own genius.” “It’s simple,” he said, leaning back into his chair, “I don’t have any genius to drown in. I can’t even spell genius.” “Well compared to me you are genius.” “No, that was some pretty poetic ass shit you pulled out of your half-asleep-hungover-ass this morning, there Bates.” “Eh,” I attempted to argue, “You bring it out in me.” “Just like you bring out the dumb in me?” He asked with a wink. I didn’t say a word, I just bit my lip and kept my smile back. “You could be a genius, babe, how will you know if you don’t bear your soul every now and then? You’ll never find your voice if you don’t shout into the void from time to time.” I started laughing, “I am not genius. I’m not creative. The only adjectives I use are ‘as fuck’ and ‘as balls’. If I recall, Edgar Allen Poe didn’t use those phrases.” He shrugged, “Which is exactly why you should, and people will call it genius. Edgar Allen Poe is great but he’s dead. We need someone new. Someone like you.” I scoffed, “No, I think the world would prefer you.” “Why do you shy away from the idea of being something great?” “Because one day I will die. One day the world will die. Nothing will exist anymore and where will all my hard work go? I don’t fear greatness I fear greatness will be forgotten. That and I’m scared of moving on which is why I’m going to community college. And I suck at creativity. I don’t know my purpose yet.” George blinked and stared, “Jonathan Bates, did you just open up to me in the sunlight?” I nodded, “Does that mean I can speak of this with you again?” “Will you?” “Oh yes.” “Fuck...” I looked at Roni, who was just sitting there shaking her head at us, “What?” I asked. She scoffed, “Like I said,” she shook her hands, “Amplified Fuck Ups.”  Across the cafe at the counter I heard Marty’s voice scream, “Order for a... Langston?!” He looked around, “Langston Hughes?!” George leaned his head back and yelled, “Damn, the service here sucks DICK!” And I saw Marty’s head snap over to us at the sound of George’s voice and his eyes narrowed and he shook his head at us like we were his hooligan kids who just threw a baseball through the window. And he carried our tray of food over, like the beaten father, repairing the damage on his own. He set it down harshly when he got to our table, then pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat in it reverse with us. “Stop using fake names and coming into my place of business to surprise me!” Marty demanded. George chuckled, “Last week it was W.H. Auden, before that, Emma Lazarus. Any time I see an old timey name I’m just going to piss on the order.” We took what was ours and began to devour it. Marty picked off our plates. “Or you could just get a new job,” Roni suggested, “You’ve been here since you were thirteen. It wasn’t even legal.” “Wherever I go, you guys will show up. Unless I worked in like a balloon factory or some place mildly happy.” “Bates would still show up,” Roni said with a giggle. “Oh, yes let’s make fun of Bates because he has a slight silver lining and a tiny jump in his step,” I mumbled sarcastically. Roni heard and kneed me under the table. I looked at her and gave her a secret look that told her I’d felt that. She just smirked back. “Truth though,” Marty said quietly, looking around, “I can’t wait to blow this place.” He looked back at us and said in a normal tone, “Speaking of blow... Jules last night.” George swallowed his granola and acai and stared at Marty, “Jules was on cocaine?” Marty shrugged, “If cocaine makes you blow two guys in one night... then yeah, she was.” I waved him off, “Rumors.” “Okay she didn’t go as far as to perform oral sex but she did hook up with two decent looking men.” “It was Kyle and Giuliano,” George said as he stirred his bowl, “Descent is pushing it.” “I think he means decent as in the do well and please your mother type of way,” Roni said to him, “They certainly keep well to themselves, I haven’t even flirted with either of them.” I looked at Roni, “Maybe it’s because they’re ugly,” she stuck her tongue out at me, “You’re too good for them.” Marty laughed and said in a high voice, “She hasn’t hooked up with you either, Bates.” I felt my cheeks heat up. I avoided Roni’s eyes as much as possible, “So are you saying she’s too good for you or are you too good for her?” We both didn’t say anything. “Oh my God...” whispered George as he leaned into Marty, “They’re so blushing.” “They want each other,” Marty said back, like they were observing us in the wild or something and we were about to mate on the spot. I finally worked up the courage to look at Roni who to my surprise was just looking at me with this weird blank expression but a smile in her eyes, her eyebrows were raised mischievously and I had to look away. I shot my eyes at Marty, “Stop.” George leaned into Roni, “You two should bone.” He leaned across to me, “You guys would totally do it. You would be doing it if we weren’t watching.” I laughed, “Roni and I have been alone plenty of times and we’ve never done it.” George leaned back and closed his eyes, “Ugh, the sexual tension is killing me.” He slumped in his chair. “This is ridiculous. Roni, say something.” She shrugged, “Well I’ve thought about it.” “What?!” I choked. “Well everyone thinks of everyone sexually at some point, even like their cousins! Which is what you are to me so... I don’t know!” She shook her head, “It’d just be weird.” I was just still so in shock, I never even considered the possibility that she’d even thought about it. After a few moments of silence George told Roni, “You know he’s got a huge penis right?” Martin asked in seriousness, “He does?” “I do?” I saw Roni’s jaw drop in the corner of my eye. George ignored me and said to Martin, “Yeah man.” Marty seemed almost fascinated, “Bigger than John?” George looked up at the ceiling as if trying to recall, “Well, I’ve never seen John’s but judging by stereotypes and his mixed ethnicity, he should be entirely average.” Marty looked at me, “Damn, Africa.” Roni thought for a minute, “Wait... I’ve seen it before,” before I could ask she turned to me, “Skinny dipping at Rhonda Marley’s place last summer, I peeked.” I had peeked at her too, that was one of the greatest days of my life. “And no offense but it wasn’t that big if I recall.” George tapped Roni’s shoulder, “He’s a grower not a shower.” Marty laughed and looked at me again, “Damn, Bates. Coming from George that’s got to mean something.” I asked him what he meant by that, “Well I’m guessing he’s seen his fair share.” George corrected, “I’ve been with... four guys besides Bates. But that’s just like doing stuff, side stuff. I’ve only had sex with two other guys besides Bates.” I just remember thinking ‘Dang, he’s got me beat by two’. Roni stopped sipping her lemonade and asked, “And?” “He’s left a lasting impression.” I leaned back, “Let’s not talk about... it.” “Let’s talk about our psych project,” said Marty, “We still don’t have jack shit.” George drummed his fingers, “I’ll think of something and save our asses again.” He thought for a little bit. George always did seem to pull all of our weight in group assignments, he did this in every class even if the people in his group weren’t his only best friends. And he never seemed to mind because he was one of those guys where things just came naturally, he never seemed to study but he aced every test he’d ever taken and nailed every presentation; I tried to logic with it and label it luck, but it was just George being George. George finally got an idea, “So like can you guys keep any kind of rhythm?” Roni asked, “What do you mean?” “Like if I gave you pots and pans could you bang them?” He asked I assured him, “Roni can bang anything.” And she punched me. Martin watched on and added, “Well except you, of course, Bates.” I shot a glare at him, “Don’t you have a job to fuck off to?”  We spent the rest of the day together. We skateboarded down to the beach and hung out there for a while, went to a liquor store and played their arcade machines. We rode all over town hopping from the backs of cars to the next up and down the streets like we were in Back to the Future. I loved being behind George and seeing his Judd Nelson coat flapping in the wind behind him. That coat always made me smile.That night it was Mel’s birthday or something like that so George had to go home and have dinner with them, so Roni and I went back to my place for dinner. We heated up mini corndogs and were sitting with the plate in between us on as we sat on top of the counter like we were in Sixteen Candles. And I asked her, “Roni? You said earlier today that you set George and I up.” “Uh-hu.” “So when you introduced us you had the intention of getting us together?” She chewed and chewed then said, “I shouldn’t be telling you this. George never wanted me to, but he never made me promise so... George had only just very recently going with guys when he met you.” I widened my eyes in shock, “Really? Could have fooled me.” “It was that good, was it?” She said with a little laugh. I just raised my eyebrows and she got the hint. “I shouldn’t even be telling you this... but, do you want to know the real reason George and I started talking again?” I nodded, “Well when we dated Freshman year, Bates, we were so goofy for each other. Totally ga ga. All the cliche hand holding, pet name, naming our kids bullshit. We were like Jules and John but worse if you can imagine. But we never once said the words I love you to each other. He said once you do that the magic’s gone. He told me that sex isn’t love, like you did too. And slowly but surely he got less and less affectionate. Then he shut me out and you saw what that did to me. He made me what I am now by breaking my heart. And you knew that. “Well, George never did. He avoided me after that. And then in the summertime right before Senior year we ran into each other. And it was like he had heard rumors about how much I’d changed but never believed them. He just stared at me, wide eyed and insane like he had seen a ghost. And I took that as he was falling in love with me again. I thought I had become the thing he wanted. So I naturally threw myself at him, like I do... and he took me home. We went to his big house and went in his big room and we did it in his big bed. But he like couldn’t finish, you know? It was like in the movies. And he got all weird and he left the room. “I didn’t know how long he’d go and I was all worked up so I started to finish what he couldn’t, right? And I figured if he walked in or something it might be that boost he needed to get going again. “He came in and he saw what I was doing and I opened my eyes and saw he had a whole bottle of really nice scotch in his hand. And so I asked him, ‘Ooh can I have some?’ “He leaned on his desk and said to me, ‘I think you’ve had enough.’ Because I had told him that that day I had done DMT with Cooper, you remember Cooper who I was dating at the time. ‘I should take you home,’ he told me. “I was shocked, ‘You’re drinking!’ I told him, ‘Like, straight from the bottle!’ “And he was all, ‘I’ll call a fucking cab for you then. Jesus, Ron!’ “And so I was like, ‘What’s fucking you up the ass?’ Which as a bad choice of words. “He just looked and looked at me and was like, ‘Who are you?’ “I laid back in his bed and was like, ‘I’m the girl who just let you fuck her.’ Then I started to kind of get pissed and I started to get dressed. “That’s when he said, ‘No. No. I don’t know who I just had sex with. That wasn’t Roni, not my Roni.’ “Oh I lost it. I said, ‘You’re Roni? You never wanted me! You never had a Roni all your own!’ “‘No I guess not,’ he said all sad like. “And then I said, ‘Unless you’re counting Veronica who didn’t drink, swear, or sleep around.’ “‘Sleep around?’ he asked like he totally thought the rumors weren’t true, ‘Who else have you been with besides Cooper?’ “And I started to list from most recent and told him, ‘Derek--’ Which was enough for him already because Derek was his dealer at the time.”  I interrupted her story, “Wait. Wait... so it’s true then?” She tilted her head, “If Derek was George’s dealer then that means...” Roni finished for me, “Yeah George did heroin a few times.” I had to take a deep breath, “He’s clean now though. Anyways He went ballistic at the sound of Derek’s name, ‘Jesus fucking Christ, Ron!’ he yelled. “‘I think you’ve had enough,’ I told him, because he clearly had. “‘Yeah I’ve had enough of this bullshit.’ And he started to cry. I had never seen him cry before so it took me a while to ask him if he really was and all he said back to me was, ‘God damn it Roni, what is happening to you? I shouldn’t have done this to you. You were fine before! You were perfect! And now, God damn it, it is all my fault! I shouldn’t have told you those things. I shouldn’t have taken you to The Leaf. I shouldn’t have gotten you high or drunk. I shouldn’t have done this...’ “I was furious, ‘You think you are the reason I’m like this now? Did you think I did all this, and changed everything about myself because of you? Because I wanted you to like me or something?’ “And he got real scary serious and said to me, ‘Oh no, because you wouldn't have had to change a damn thing Roni, I was so in love with you just the way you were... “‘What did you say?’ “He just said, ‘Fuck.’ “I gathered my shit and shoved him away from the door but he jumped back in front of it, ‘Roni, let me explain!’ He yelled. “I just screamed back, crying myself at this point, ‘No no no. I am so sorry, but I have spent the last years trying to figure my shit out, and trying to know who I am. I resented love of all forms because of what you did to me! All that time I spent listening to you say that love is bullshit and feelings are worthless and relationships are nothing more than sex and now you are telling me that you thought you were in love with me when you were fucking me.’“‘When we were dating,’ he said, ‘Iwas in love with you. I had no idea, no idea in Hell that I loved you. I must have always, but I never knew until tonight! Shit.’ And he threw the bottle of scotch against the wall and it shattered and exploded.“I ignored it and just was all like, ‘Don’t fucking say that, I have been told my whole life by other people what to believe in. My dad told me to believe in God and to always love one person forever. Meanwhile his sister fucks my best friend’s dad. And I was told by you George, someone I looked to as a friend and admired as a hero almost, that love is a bunch of crap and now you are telling me what exactly?’ And he didn’t say anything so I went on and shouted, ‘That the whole time you were lying to me, the whole time you were in love with me. Were you using me?’“I was lying to myself too,’ he said, more calmly now, ‘I had no idea I loved you like this.’“And so I begged him, ‘Stop saying you love me!’“‘Why?’ He asked.“Because you don’t! You don’t! You don’t love me like that!’” I had heard her say that one before. It was all so much, hearing that my best friend was so madly in love with my best friend who I was also in love with. And that George actually admitted to loving her, she was the one. Like she was the one for me. Roni went on, “And then he got all poetic, ‘I do love you like that. I don’t know why people say that. We’ve never defined what that is but I want that for us! I want that with you, whatever it is, Roni, yes I love you like that!’“I just said to him, ‘I have to get out of here.’“‘Roni, I am sorry. Come back to me please.’“‘I changed everything. I did everything you said and I destroyed myself, and for who? Not for you, not for my parents not for God and certainly I realize now not for myself. Who am I? What do I believe in now?’ I know now that I did change for myself, right? I mean... I am really happy with my beliefs now. I’ve come to terms that yes, George changed me, but I let myself change. And that’s who I am. I am the girl who let something change her. And I have to accept that, I have to accept myself. And I do. So with people who slut shame me or say I’ll find love someday, I don’t get pissy because I know me. They don’t. Even though I changed I do know who I am.“Anyways back to the story because believe it or not, it’s not over yet. George tried to stop me and begged, ‘Can we talk? Look. I’ve been with tons of girls before you--’“Oh way to make me feel loved, am I right? I told him that and he corrected himself and was all like, ‘Okay eight!’”I crack up hearing that, George has certainly stacked up his number since.“I know, right. But listen. He says to me, ‘I always thought sex was sex and love was love, I never knew the two could ever come together. But I was willing to see if that would happen with you and me, I still am!’“I told him, ‘I’m done with this shit, and I’m done with you.’“He said to me, ‘Let me fix it. just let me please.’ And I was all like, fix what lover-boy? And he was like, ‘Just let me be in love with you. Let me love you and we can go back to bed and I’ll actually be able to do it this time.’“‘You think I’m mad because you got soft? I’m mad because you won't stop claiming you love me.’“‘Please. Don’t ask me to stop I don’t want to. But if you keep killing yourself like this I won't know what to do, I’ll kill myself too.’“‘Kill myself?’“He told me, ‘I know what kind of guy Derek is. And that shit you did with Cooper, Ron you have to know where to draw the line.’ “I was only teasing to piss him off but I said, ‘I draw the line. Then I snort it off Derek’s GIANT COCK!’ “He was shocked and laughed and shook his head and shit and was all, ‘Are you fucking kidding me? Come on...’“‘No  really, maybe I’m in love with him. Stranger things have clearly happened. So don’t ask me to stop!’ I was totally mocking him.“‘Oh shut the fuck up with that bullshit.’“I was so mad at him I just remember screaming, ‘You don’t love me!’ or ‘You can't love me!’ Or something like that.“And he said to me, he said, ‘No, not this fuckin’ person, I love Veronica. The girl who prayed to a higher power and had a dream wedding book’ I couldn’t believe he had the balls to say that.“I told him to shut up. I told him, ‘You’re George Lysander! You don’t believe in love, and if you were going to fall in love it wouldn't be with someone like this!“And that bastard said the worst thing ever. He said, ‘I love you, Veronica Eileen Stevens.’“I said, ‘You shouldn’t. She’s dead. She’s gone.’“‘Bullshit.’“‘You two would be horrible together.’“‘Bullshit.’“‘She’d hate you.’“‘Don’t say that.’ I shoved him and ran away and he screamed after me, ‘What are you going to walk home?’ I told him to go fuck himself. Then he went psycho and screamed, ‘You’re so full of shit! You’re high! You’re going to kill yourself you bitch...’“I yelled from his doorway, ‘Go to Hell you fucking hypocrite!’“And he shouted back, ‘Oh not if you die first and beat me there, so help me god I will right all my wrongs!’” Then Roni ate another corndog and spit it out, “Bleck, cold.” She stared at me as I stared off into completely terrified space, “Cool?”“That’s... where the story ends? That’s it?”“Yeah. I called to apologize and so did he. He was in a bad place at the time and realized he didn’t mean a word of it, but it was still touchy with us for a while so we had a strictly just texting friendship. Then he and I hung out and we both accepted each other for who we are and we realized we are better friends than anything. I love the guy to death now, but like in the same way I love you.”That was a confusing jumble to me. I stared into space for a long time again.“Wanna talk about it more?” She checked with me, “Have any comments to share?”I shook my head, “Naa... I’m good.” I finally looked back to her and tried to change the subject. However in retrospect, I’m realizing this wasn’t the best way to turn the topic to something more comfortable. I said, “So that was weird what they said about us at Velvet, hu?”She shoved the plate out of the way and scooted closer to me, “About us doing it?”I swallowed the lump in my throat, “Yeah.”She placed her perfect hands on my shoulders and got on her knees. I stared up and her as she began to straddle me and push me down. My heart was pounding in my ears, I thought this would be it. I’d finally have sex with Roni, we’d fall in love and I’d call George and tell her she’s the one...“About me and you and your apparently gigantuan penis?” She leaned down and kissed my forehead then rolled off me laughing. She hopped off the counter and headed toward the front door.“Where are you going?”She yelled from the front room, “It’s getting late, I think I should check on Jules. Want to drive me?”“Just a second...” I laid there on the cold counter and counted the seconds until my erection subsided. (I got to forty three). After I dropped her off I got a text from George: Leaf. You. Only. Now. I smiled and shot back: IDK. Sounds gay. I had already begun to drive there when I got another text from George and pulled over to read it: Is that a promise? I got there just barely in time to catch George sitting alone at his table, light by a single candle. The only light in the whole place was the spotlight, shining on some chick with long dreadlocks and about fifty thousand piercings -- that I could see-- talking quick and in rhyme about a bumblebee she found dead in her hair. I sat across from George and whispered, “Hey. How was the dinner?”“Tedious. I really need to hash this one out, get my thoughts out, shake out the negative energy, come clean to myself, then take you to the parking lot and fuck you senseless.” He barely looked at me, just kept staring at the dreadlocked chick. I was really surprised because he usually didn’t talk like that in public, rarely even in private. It kind of threw me off. I heard dreadlock chick mumble a slurry ‘Thank you’ and then George flew out of his seat and got behind the mic.He seemed really jumpy and fidgety and he flipped his hair around and got it out of his eyes before he said, “This came to me today when I was almost in a near fatal car accident. My life flashed before my eyes and I realized something. And here it is:“I’m a huge fucking slut. So what? I’m not ashamed of it. No way to rearrange it to make it seem less R-rated. I love fucking other sluts. Fucking sluts is my favorite. I love sluts, I can’t explain it or change it. And if you try to shame me, know it won't change me. Now just because I am a man doesn’t make me above the cut of being labeled as a slut and I don’t know why I’d not be called a slut if I enjoy getting sucked as much as a slut likes to fuck. It’s a shame I get called a player or a lady slayer and get praised by fellow male elaborators who stretch the truth to make us cool and not as dirty as a whore’s snooch. But I am a whore. I sell myself out to society. I sell my body for corporations to make money. I advertise and spread my thighs and the corporate dick fuck me. I am a whore and I let everybody see. I am a slut who will fuck anything because life is always fucking me. If you slut shame me! Look in the mirror! You’ll see your rapist’s label on your V-neck or crew-Tee. You’ll see a logo of a band you’ve never listened to and never seen. And you will see life is fucking you just as hard as its fucking me! We are all sluts and we are all whores. We must all open our legs and eyes more.” And he quickly sped down the tiny stairs as people clapped and snapped and whistled.He joined me at the table, “I need a smoke. Let’s go outside.” Outside, his twitchy fingers light a cigarette. I asked, “What’s got you so worked up?”“I had an Adderall before the dinner, no way I’d be able to handle it sober.”“You’d tell me if something were wrong, right?”He looked at me solemnly, “Of course.”“Even in the daylight?”“...Yes.”I let him smoke and we leaned against the wall outside The Leaf Lounge and I could hear the muffled slam poetry of the other participants. Enough time passed and I asked him, “Do I remind you of Veronica?”His head snapped to me, his eyebrows furrowed together, “What? Who?”I nodded to let him know he heard correctly, “Veronica. You knew Roni when she was Veronica. So did I. She changed I didn’t, we were one in the same in those days...” He got up off the wall and sat on the curb. I joined him, “Do I?”“Shit,” he mumbled, “She told you didn’t she?” My silence spoke the words I didn’t have courage for. Finally he said, “I was wrong. I wasn’t wrong about how I felt but I handled it wrong. I had feelings for Veronica. But I don’t have feelings for Roni. Okay?” He finally made eye contact with me, “Bates, don’t think I’m with you because you remind me of someone I once knew. I’m doing this with you because you’re my best friend. Our relationship has been perfect since we first met. It’s exactly what we both need until we find ‘The One’. Right?”“Right.”“Roni told you that I was starting to like guys right before that awful night she and I had, didn’t she?” He asked.“Yeah she mentioned it.”He smiled, “Well did she tell you that one of those guys I knew I liked was you?”My whole body twitched, it was really sudden and George tried his best not to laugh at my surprise. “What? You liked me?”He closed his eyes and shrugged, “Meh. I mean, you seemed cool. I wanted to be your friend if anything.”“I felt the same way,” I admitted, “Like even as kids you always were the popular guy. I wanted to be friends with you, definitely.”He kissed the side of my chin, “Well now I’m your best friend.” He tossed his cigarette and jumped off the curb. I struggled as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and tried to pick me up. He dragged me off the curb and pulled my, my legs dragging in the gravel, toward the car, “And I’m your best friend who’s going to have consensual homosexual sex with you in the back of your mom’s car.” I was always ditching my math class back then because it was the same period George had his choir class in which they did absolutely nothing if there wasn’t a holiday coming up that they could put on a show for. So I could sometimes sneak in and hang out with him or he could sneak out and we could hide in a stairwell or the bathroom or football field and just chill out. So valentines day had passed and they were all just milling about in the music room and I was sitting in the back with George going over our psych presentation for the next period when he stated getting antsy, “Na, we can’t keep going over it. I’ll over think it and so will you so lets just... fuck it.”I scoffed at him, “Fuck it?”“Yeah, why not? Hey, I’ve got another thing I’d rather show you any ways.” He looked around the room and then got up from his plastic chair and headed for the piano. I closed my notebook and watched him, shaking my head. I never knew how he managed to always have some new song or poem to perform and the fact he’d do it wherever and whenever astounded me.He sat at the keys and cracked his knuckles. The excitement in the room was palpable as everyone always looked forward to George singing or talking or even just entering a room really. All the girls sat at his feet and the guys pulled up chairs and took notes.When he saw he had attention he announced, “I was inspired not to long ago to write a love song-- a ballad if you will-- to this magnificent country in which we live. It is so unbelievably bountiful in creative ideas, always inspiring me, filling me with emotions that I just... I get furious as I write these lyrics and poems like mad and-- anyway. This is a song about America. It’s called This Country Was Founded On Hypocrites and Liars Who Are All Going To Burn In Hell. And here it goes.:He struck a few chords then established a pretty jaunty melody and began to sing in his higher singing voice that he saved for songs like this one, “This song is untitled, because I don’t believe in labels. LIAR! I don’t believe in movies, but I claim to love Clark Gable. POSER! I don’t believe in love, but I sing about being lonely. EVERY RAPPER! My motto’s ‘Keep it real’, but I prefer to be a phony. EVERY SELL OUT ACTOR!“Jesus is my best friend, but it’s funny to praise satan. I like fucking dudes down in my girlfriend’s basement. I’m a nonconformist who drives a bandwagon. I’ll stay faithful to my wife, until she starts saggin’. Because marriage is sacred, but not for gay faggots. Cheating is fine if you’re a major celeb. Because we all sell our souls to TMZ in the end.“Education is important unless you want to paint. Study math and science, but just don’t be a nerd, okay? You won't get a job, because degrees are inflated. And you’ll be in debt your whole life because loans are complicated. Oh wait they’re not complicated, they just fuck you around until your credit score is desolated. But hey... education! Am I right? PRAISE SATAN!“I like being quirky just like that girl on TV. Be sure to be unique but never too confusing. We like simplicity and white girls who sing pretty. Always be yourself as long as your looks please me.“This song is long and has no chorus so it won't be on the radio. But it’s okay cause cool kids think those songs are overrated though. Never bore us, entertain us! It must smell like teen spirit with your head up your anus. MTV! VH1! 666! Illuminati! Fuck a donkey. Americans love a good rhyme. Once they hear this song they’ll play it all the... day long. AND THE DEVILS WORK WILL BE DONE!“Relationships are dumb but don’t sleep with someone else! Always be confident, but don’t be vain and love yourself. The natural look is the way to go, here’s some covergirl so your flaws won’t show. Shove some mascara where the sun don’t go, and keep up the illusion that hair doesn’t grow from under your nose... which is way too big by the way. A plastic surgeon could chisel all that shit away.He pounded the keys faster and sang away, “Support your troops. Don’t be a Nazi. If you’re black. Try to not be. Be proud of your ethnicity. But act just like me and my country. Practice your religion. But don’t shove it down my throat. Loose lips may sink ships, but gossip columns stay afloat. Be proud of your body. But you’ve got to shed some pounds. The congress does it’s job. If that job is to fuck us to the ground! And if you are a corporation, congrats! ‘Cause you have rights! Just like every American with a penis and who’s white! Welcome to reality. Welcome to our society. God bless the contradictory U.S. from sea to lying sea!”“Lysander!” Yelled his choir teacher after the applause died down. “I know, I know,” he complained as he shut the cover over the keys, “I can’t praise Satan on school property. You only have to tell me once, Mrs. Calhoun” She put her hands on her hips and tried really hard to stay serious but I could see her holding back laughter, “George...” “And I can’t swear in class...” “And?” “And I can’t criticize the government or express my emotions on being yet another repressed tapioca cube in our blan all white society. I should love this Aryan Pudding Factory we call America and not let it make me lose my sense of self.”  I was laughing with George for a while after that as we began to lug our cargo for the psych project. George had stuffed his tiny Volo with a disassembled drum set and his giant keyboard. Marty and John were helping out as well, listening to us retell the story. “You really called America an Aryan Pudding Factory?” Asked John. I laughed as I hauled the keyboard out of the trunk, “You should have seen her face when she said that.” I shut the trunk and we all began to walk toward the school. “And the girls never showed up to help, sweet.” Marty complained. “Girls. Who needs ‘em. Am I right, Bates?” “Fuck you, I get with girls too,” I said as I purposely whacked his shoulder with the keyboard. “I even went out with Roni on valentines night.” That was a good night. George had been asked out by a girl in his chemistry and felt like he shouldn’t refuse. So I took Roni out that night, we went to her favorite pizza place and then the ice cream shop by the beach where we hung out alone for the first time and it would have been totally romantic had she not the whole time kept telling me, “You really need to come out to your parents.”“And tell them what? I have sex with George upstairs when he comes over and you think we’re listening to music and playing video games?”She thought about it, “Well not that exactly.”“Look, I told you about this. George and I just do what we do until we find the real person we want to be with. We are not dating. Not even a little. He’s my friend like my dude friend.”We were walking around downtown as Roni said “burning off those holiday calories.”“Besides,” I told her, “He’s on a date right now, with a woman. So let’s just forget about it.” I had planned that night to tell Roni I was in love with her but I didn’t know how. I had hoped she’d notice how much thought I’d put into our valentines date but it kind of went over her head. She still didn’t think of me like that.We ended up in this tiny park that wasn’t really a park anymore, not a proper one. They pulled out all the cool jungle gym stuff and the swings but they left the grass and the giant oak tree in the middle. But that was alright with Roni and I when we were younger. We played on that thing for hours and hours. It was the only jungle gym we had all to ourselves that actually looked like a jungle in our imaginations.I looked around and acted like it was a coincidence I brought her to our favorite place to play when we were kids. “Oh hey. It’s Oakey.”She smiled, “Oakey Tree, hey buddy...” she walked over and started to rub the trunk, “It’s been ages. You don’t look a ring over fifty.” And she climbed up.I watched her ascend and thought over and over again that this was it. I climbed up about half way and sat a few branches below.“It’s not nearly as high as it felt when we were kids,” she laughed.“That feels so long ago,” I recalled, “So much has changed. Your name for starters.”“It’s the same name,” she said as she tried to kick me off my branch, “It’s just a little different. Like me. Samer person just a little different. I grew up.”“And I stayed the same?”She looked at me for a while, stopped kicking me, then told me, “Yeah but that’s a good thing. Sometimes people need other people to not change; The people they care about the most.”I acted like my heart wasn’t accelerating to 88 miles per hour, about to hit 1.21 jigawatts and shoot myself into the past, when Roni was Veronica, I wasn’t slightly gay and I could tell her how I felt. “Care about the most?”“You care about our friends the most. You always keep us right, have our best interest at heart, we all go nuts and you’re like our reset button.”I never knew being so terrified of change made me a good friend.Roni went on, “And we care about you just the same. See this is what valentines should be about not chocolate for some person who you’re just going to cheat on, but your closest friends.” I had no problem hearing Roni calling me just a friend, I was lucky to be anything in her eyes.“I always just thought... I don’t know...”“What?”I looked away, “I always just thought you would just be the cool step cousin I got out of my dad being a jerk to my mom.”“And I always thought you’d just be that creep staring at me from the end of the table at Thanksgiving.” Then we walked back to my car, I drove her home and George texted me to let me know his date was over then he called me about twenty seconds from Roni’s driveway. She answered and put it on speaker for me. I yelled toward the receiver, “Yooo!”George immediately replied, “Hey man, how’d trying to bang Roni go?”“George!” I screamed.“Did she just blow you? That’s cool too,” he said all too casually.Before I could answer or commit embarrassed suicide Roni replied, “Hi, George.”There was a beat of silence, “Am... am I calling mid-coitus? Is this a bad time?”Roni rolled her eyes and made a face at me, “Oh yeah, we’re balls deep, George.” She giggled and looked at me but I was envisioning that probably more than she thought I would.“It fits?!”I nearly crashed the car, then proceeded to laugh probably too loud and too sarcastically, “Good one George, bye!” And I pulled into Roni’s driveway.“Wait, wait... we’re going to play ‘Where’s George?’ Ready, go!”Roni and I both sighed and said simultaneously, “Where’s George?”“In Maya’s bathroom, I’m sneaking out the window. It’s pretty high. Hang on,” I heard him scream on the other end and then crash into the ground, “Balls!”Roni started to laugh, “George!?”“...Let’s play again... Ready, go.” He said with less enthusiasm.I relinquished, “Where’s George?”I heard feet crunching through the grass then, “Running away after eatin’ dat pussy too good, babes.” Then he hung up. I leaned back and rubbed my temples.Roni stopped laughing, “What is that kid’s problem?”I looked over at her, “You forgot to pluralise the word ‘problem’. Like you said... amplified fuck ups.”She touched my arm, “You okay?”“Yeah, fine... why? Roni, this is our relationship, I’m not hurt or anything.” She made a face and opened the door, “Roni, don’t do that.”She climbed out, “Thanks for a lovely time,” she leaned back in and kissed my cheek and stayed close to my face, “And thank you for being my valentine.”“Of course. I’ll always be.” That was when-- for the second time that night-- I thought over and over again that this was it. I had kind of told her how I felt, I let her know the idea of George with other people didn’t petrify me like it did for John and Jules, and I was willing to stay the same for her as long as she wanted.She ruffled the top of my head, “Good.” Then she punched me in the stomach, I doubled over-- still in love-- and she walked inside. I sat in her driveway catching my breath for a while then drove away. I got about ten minutes away from her place and to that halfway point where I could make a left and end up at John’s, go straight and end up at George’s, turn right and go to my mom’s. Mom and Lance were out, John and Jules were probably doing something crazy romantic and mushy so I decided to call George. I pulled over and called him, “George, what’s up? How’d it go, man?”“Meh. How I thought. She was all gussied up and weird, it was too nice for my taste. So I’m back home now.”“That was fast.”“I’ve only been home like five minutes, my dad and Mel are having dinner downstairs, they want me to join them but like...” Another thud came and the sound of a few things falling, “Oh my god, fuck this. I don’t know, after Maya’s fancy shindig she set up for us and all the candles my dad’s light against fire code downstairs, I’ve had too much of this shit.”“Too romantic?”“Pretty fuckin’ much.” I heard a thud on the other end but ignored it, and so did he, “Well with Maya, we hooked up a little at her place afterwards at least. So that was good. Kind of made the insufferable act of filling awkward silence worth it.”“Ah, I got it...” I laughed, “She invited you over for dessert?”“Yeah man... it was sweet.”“Is she the one?” I asked as I always did.“Ha!” Another thud came over the end, “Jesus... I swear to fuck I will murder a nun.”“What?”“Nothing. Say, how about we hang out? Watch a movie? I’m over romance, let’s be dudes. Or are you still banging Roni?”I covered my face in my hands, not sure who I was hiding my blushing cheeks from.I heard something clatter on the other end, “Fuck!”“What the hell was that?” “I’m putting together one of those tables and it’s fucking...” he started to breath heavy, “Jesus fucking shit on a god damned prick! Who the fucking shit thinks these things are--” “George! Why are you assembling a coffee table?” “I ordered it like a month ago and I’m bored so... can you come over and help? I’m losing my fucking mind over here.” “You’ve been home for five minutes and you’re building a coffee table?!” He started to say something but I yelled over him, “You just went on a fancy date with some Junior in your chemistry class, ate her out, then jumped out of her window--” “Yeah I bruised my hip pretty fucking bad too--” “And bruised your hip, now you’re making a coffee table?” He sighed, “I had to reaffirm my manhood. I have seen too many rose petals for one day. Get your ass over here!”  I hung up on him. He was so God damn annoying. He always was doing all this unnecessary stuff to prove something to himself, never anyone else. No one was questioning his manhood, for fuck’s sake. The dude literally took a girl out to dinner, made out with her vagina, then jumped out of a two story window, and then had to build a coffee table to prove to himself that he was a man. It was repugnant. I ironed my shirt and then failed to tell a girl I loved her because I got butterflies in my stomach. I felt like such a little bitch, and he in comparison to me, was Zeus. And HE was the one feeling emasculated. I looked at the oncoming traffic and considered just standing him up and going home. It’d be way better being at home by myself, scrolling through the internet, surfing through the television channels, and hating myself, than be even more emasculated by the most macho man I knew having a pissyfit. I wouldn’t subject myself to it.  So we tried to assemble a coffee table.We got the frame around the glass of the tabletop, but only on the two shorter sides. When the long pieces popped off for an eighteenth time George swore and cursed and yelled, “Who the fuck made this thing? The Devil?” I hit myself in the head with the side piece, “No, even he would have some decency to give us a hint, I mean, considering how much you took the Lord’s name in vain, he might be on your side.”We got like 2.3 legs on and then when we tried to assemble the drawer the handle fell off and George spoke angry Yiddish and had to go splash cold water on his face. When he came back into the room he looked around, “Where the fuck is it?” “That thing is evil. No coffee table is going to mock our manhood.” I told him. He shook the water off his face, “Yes! That’s it, Bates! We are men! Fuck this table!” He looked around again, “I want to kick it, where is it?” “I did what any man would do,” George got super heated and into what I was saying, “I insulted it’s mother, I threatened it, I used lewd language, I mocked his religious beliefs--” “--Too much, Bates.” “Right... even a man has to know where to draw the line,” he agreed, “And knowing where to draw that line is way mega manly!” George yelled and flexed his arms, “Yeaaahhh! So where’s the little bitch!?” I shrugged, “Oh well we had a talking to and it turns out that he doesn’t even want to be a table. His parents were tables and it’s just been really hard on him growing up. He had a lot of pressure as a kid to be a great table like his dad, hold food and magazines... anyhow, he’s not so sure that’s what he wants. So I talked to him and we got to know each other and he’s not that bad. He was just being difficult with us because he was struggling, he doesn’t want to be a table.” George was smiling so big and goofy at this point, “He and I came to the conclusion that...” and I kicked the beanbag chair behind me to reveal the table, balancing on it’s side with the few legs it had with the drawer hanging off the corner precariously. “He’d rather be art.” I had written in huge block letters with a sharpie across the glass table top, “Manliness is not defined by how well we construct furniture but how well we construct curses in the process.” He laughed at it and walked closer for a better look, then put his arm around me, “And you say you’re not creative. We did it. We are men again. Let’s celebrate. What’s the most manly thing you can think of?” I thought. “And it has to be anti-romance too. None of that shit, we are protesting this holiday and reaffirming our manhood, right?”  So we did the most manly thing we could think of and we took off all our clothes and got under his covers in his bed. He set up the laptop in between us and decided to watch some disgusting, non romantic hardcore pronography. The girl on the screen was all red from being spanked and screaming a litany of expletives at the top of her lungs. She yelled, “Bend me over, Donny!” “Bend me over, Donny!” He and I mocked in high falsettos. Then Donny bent her over and began to ravish her once again. George chuckled, “Jesus Christ. This is so weird.” “You don’t like it?” “No... it’s just that,” he looked at me and used weird arm gestures, “Sex with women is magnificent. But this is just...” He looked back at the screen as Donny started making bear noises and the girl started to scream. “It’s like he’s acting like she’s a dude. Like, if I want to see guy on girl stuff I want to be able to see on his face how it feels. This guy is ruining it, he doesn’t realize that: One, this girl is way out of his league. Two, that’s a vagina, one of the most magical mystical places ever ventured by a man and he said, and I quote, ‘I’m going to murder this thing’. He literally called it a thing! It’s just a waste of guy on girl action.” “I see what you mean...” even though I didn’t cause the closest I’d ever come to a vagina at that point was handing Roni a tampon while she was in her bathroom once. “You’re not enjoying it?” I shrugged, “I’m mostly just concerned for her,” George nodded.He exited out of the video, “Let’s watch... Bounce House Fun Bags.” It ended up being just some naked chick with huge fake tits jumping up and down in a children’s toy for like five straight minutes before some guy came in and put his creepy penis in her for about thirty seconds. George shut the laptop, “That was stupid. I don’t feel like much of a man... I feel like,” he started to laugh, “more of a feminist. I think those girls are not getting paid enough.” “Well what kind do you usually watch?” He looked at me funny, “Honestly? Promise you won't tell anyone.”I looked out the window, “Well it’s dark, so...”“Hmm, yes it is. Well, truth... I don’t usually do the internet video stuff, I mean I have like a few weird DVD’s I ordered online once that were filmed in the seventies just out of curiosity, mostly for novelty that actually aren’t half bad.”“Wow, you would watch antique porn.” I said in disbelief.“It’s vintage, not antique. And I like my magazines mostly.”I started to mock him, “And I only listen to vinyl and I drive a Model-T Ford, I don’t know what a 3-D movie is, I still think Franz Ferdinand is the Archduke of Austria--”He slapped the back of my head, “Shut the hell up.”“Well stop being such a weird hipster.”“Okay, okay,” he said, “Is that not your type?”I looked at him entirely shocked, I didn’t know why he bothered to know what my type was, “I don’t really have a type. Do you?”He smiled, “I do have a thing for blonds.” My mind went to Roni first, but then when I saw him looking at my hair I realized, like oh... yeah, I’m blond. I smiled back at him and he pulled me on top of him and we started kissing. “Happy valentines day,” he told me.“You too, man.” I said and I started kissing him again. I awoke to George slapping me in the face, “Good fuckin’ morning, Sunshine.” I didn’t open my eyes, I knew it was too early to be up. Then I felt him try to wiggle something into my mouth and I just let him. I thought it would be a joke just like he was going to take a picture or something... but then I heard a lighter click on and I felt the heat at the tip of my nose. I shot my eyes open and started to cough. “Wake and bake, brah!” He shouted. I took the joint out and kept coughing, then realized I was hearing more than just George’s laughter.I looked over and saw John sitting in the beanbag chair smoking away too. “What the hell, John? When did you get over here?” I asked him.He blew out smoke rings, “Chill yo’ self niggah, I didn’t see you two get all freaky with each other. Happy valentine's day, was it Other John?”“It’s Bates, you prick” I said.“Like the poet,” George finished.“You dick,” I mumbled, putting the joint back in my mouth and taking a few hits off of it.George watched me and said, “Yeah you need to catch up. More, more! Peer pressure, peer pressure!”I took one last deep inhale and coughed up a lung, then I put the joint behind my ear, leaned over the edge of the bed to grab my jeans, and pulled them back on.“Wait, wait, wait,” George said, “I want John to see your dick.”“What?!” I yelled wiggling my leg in faster, I wore really tight jeans in those days.“Yo man... I’m not looking at his dick,” he said, super faded out.George just fell over onto the bed and cracked up, rolling on his back.“How the fuck long have you been here, John?” I asked.He shrugged, “Couppl’a hours. Jules woke up early to drive Roni to Saturday school.”George sat up, “What for?”I laughed as I got my other leg in, “What do you think, George? Dress code violations.”“Again? Damn. You know that school is full of pervs, like, ‘hey your skirts too short, I know because I was looking.’ Like why are they even looking? So rude.” George said with genuine concern.“John, how was your valentines day?” I asked.He just smiled all wide and goofy, then immediately flatlined as if watching a kitten playing in the street suddenly get run over by a truck being driven by Hitler. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’ll get a lump in my throat and everything.”I struggled to squeeze my leg in and said to John, “Quit being a faggot.”He blew more smoke out of his mouth then sucked it up his nose, “Y’all don’t wanna see a black man cry.”George laughed, “You’re half Chinese!”He leaned forward, “So? A nigga can’t be a nigga if he’s good with math and has honor and shit? I can't hang tough?”George snickered, “Not if you’re not hanging half as much as your other brothers, dude.” Then he flipped the sheets open, exposing me just as I had gotten my other leg in-- hadn’t even pulled them up all the way yet-- And I yanked them up so fast and I panicked and then I ZIPPED UP MY BALLS!Over my screams of pain George said ever so calmly, “And he’s not even half black... oh shit, Bates...” Then he did his best Steve Urkel impression and asked, “Did I do that?” We were in the hallways heading to our psych class when George said to me, “Yeah, you took Roni out on a date sure, but who’s bed did you wake up in?”“Who made me ZIP UP MY BALLS?!”“And it wasn’t even as big as you made it seem,” John said, almost disappointed.Marty reassured John, “He’s a grower not a shower.”George confirmed, “And in a major fuckin’ way.”I shook my head and avoided his gaze. “Ha! That reminds me John, because we were rudely interrupted we never heard how your valentines was. How was your V-day? Did you get V-action?”“V-much so,” he nearly sang, “Jules and I have been great these last few weeks...” then he trailed off, “Because that’s what they are... our last few weeks... so few...”“Dude, sack up.” I told him“Or he’ll zip it up,” Marty warned.“Ha, as long as they’re not mine.”  We got into the classroom with hardly as much commotion as we thought. We were late and everyone was staring us down as we lugged in all our shit. Mr. U just stood behind his desk hardly a care in the world, just excitement in his eyes. Mr. U was one of those rare teachers who never opens a book or writes a single lesson plan but teaches you more than any teacher you will ever have. I almost killed him once or twice when he’d be riding his bike through town on his way home from school and fly off the curb in front of my car, waving and laughing. Roni and I ran into him twice at two different hot yoga studios and John swears to this day he’s the skydiver from the Soarin’ Over California ride at Disney’s California Adventure park.He’d miss most Mondays because he’d be lost in Yosemite or something. Every Friday he’d come to school in cargo shorts, all the pockets filled with survey maps, H.D. Thoreau's works, and granola, ready to get lost in the natural God created wonders of the untempered Earth. He went backpacking every chance he got and would write these existentialist journals as he slept under a cypress tree one night and a California redwood the next. He’d wander in late Monday mornings with a beard and his backpack and a thousand pictures to show us and apologize for postponing yet another test.He was of an ethnicity more or less extinct from a country that is now one half of Spain and one half of France. He lived in Bolivia most of his life, speaking spanish and tending cattle.He was always stuck in some kind of century or year. Somedays it was the roaring twenties or the early cro-magnon but nine times out of ten it was 1968, exactly. And he made sure we knew that. Though he did have an internet presence; He made how-to YouTube videos on how to make your own fire in the snow and how to fight off a bear. He actually went viral because said how to fight off a bear video guest starred an actual bear. And the dude fuckin’ won. The news could never get him for an interview though because he didn’t own a cellphone.I had him in my Sophomore year for AP Art History and then again Junior year for IB American History. Only he invented the course, it was a geological examination of the effects and influences nature and natural world order had over the outcomes of historical events, so there wasn’t a textbook. He strongly believed in his theories that the Civil War was greatly influenced by and ultimately resulted in the North’s victory due to the seasonal growth patterns of agricultural wheat fields. We never learned entirely why... he mostly prompted us to have long drawn out debates on whether or not the black man sold his soul for blues and a broken heart or the white man made a product off their desires for fame.He was always trying to get us to decrease our carbon footprints and buy fair trade. He got excited when we’d do street art around town, school, or on our desks. He had his walls covered in art projects of former students, Jimi Hendrix posters and his Thai Chi certificates and Doaism quotes.He and George got along famously, obviously. The both had long drawn out conversations on the mass genocide of the Native Americans overlooked by history and ignored due to propagandist-Christian-hidden-agendas based on God given rights and Manifest Destiny, and the impact of hallucinogens on American prose. They liked the same movies and we’d watch them in his classroom at lunch sometimes on his projector and he’d pop us popcorn in his popcorn machine. And not just those novelty mini ones you’d get in exchange for twenty tickets you won playing The Big Bass Wheel, I’m talking on wheels, carnival barker, get it while its hot, popcorn machine.So I’m not entirely sure why he was teaching psychology, apparently he was qualified; Either that or our school was understaffed and over populated with white rich kids who wanted to know why they were so fucked up and give medical definitions to the weird feelings they had but didn’t understand. Anyways, Mr. U got super excited seeing us with all our equipment and asked, “What’s all this?”George answered, “A disgrace to Rosie the Riveter and all those she touched. Our womenfolk project collaborators bailed on helping us,” He looked at Jules, “You know the women before you worked hard to get you equality and prove to misogynistic men like us that you can pull your weight. And here you are backtracking all her hard work.”Jules rolled her eyes, “I have nothing to prove to you.”He helped me get the keyboard onto the desk in the front of the room, “Truth, Jules. You have nothing to prove to misogynists. But what about yourself?” Jules reluctantly got up. George smiled and pointed to Roni, “Babe, help with Marty getting the bass drum upright,” he pointed to me, “Other babe, get the powerpoint ready.” I set up my laptop and opened the file then got it connected to the projector.Mr. U watched on from his desk, “Yeah because I wasn’t teaching or anything.”George stopped fiddling with the cords, “Yeah, I know,” and he went back to getting all of our things together.Mr. U stood up in the meantime, “Well while this is going on, I’ll wrap up: The Manson Murderers may have been insane, but what is Hollywood if not that. Okay, group 8, you’re to teach us about the synapses and the phenomena of reflexes in the central nervous system--”“So you don’t have to,” joked George as he sat himself behind the keyboard.Mr. U laughed, “And to get you practicing your public speaking skills. But I’m guessing there’s less speaking and more singing involved.”“What else would you expect,” Asked Roni.“Nothing less,” he admitted, “I’m excited, carry on.” “Alright,” I said, “I’m Jonathan Bates. That’s Other John Tyler, Jules Nash, Roni Stevens, Martin Crane, and George Lysander.” Marty raised his drum stick, “AND WE ARE THE JERK OFF’S” “No...” I said raising a hand, “We’re Group 8. We’re covering module 12 on the central nervous system.” Everyone in our group aside from me had a drumstick or two and a piece of the disassembled drum kit. George didn’t trust one person to be able to successfully operate the entire kit and he didn’t trust me to even attempt to keep a simple rhythm. So I was on graphics duty and I just had to push the button to change the slides on the right words to correspond the images to whatever it was george would be talking about. George did a silent count to four then began to play the first chords of a much happier sounding song than he usually composed. Marty came in on the bass drum shortly after, then Jules and Roni followed on the beat with their drum kit portions and John maintained a steady rhythm on the cymbals. I pushed the arrow key accordingly. George began to sing, “Central nervous system. Don’t need your permission. To tell you how you feel. It’s quick as a snap.” I pulled up the first slide, a diagram showing a neuron. “To complete a synapse. It happens just like that. It picks a quick track. And then in a flash, you feel fur when you pet your cat.” I changed it from the picture of a cat and immediately knew we were going to fail when I saw the next photo George picked, was a painting of Cain stabbing Abel.“But you can’t feel when you get stabbed in the back. Because that’s an emotion, unless the phrase is literal, then yes in fact. You feel that. But you can’t feel a broken heart. Because emotions are not a part of the...” I hit the arrow key, taking us from a broken heart Gif to our original diagram. “Central nervous system. Don’t need your permission. To tell you how you feel. You only feel the real things. Like physical pain from bee stings.” I and the rest of the class laughed at the cheesy bee swarm clip art photo George used. But then I clicked the arrow on Georges key-change cue, and it was just a black slide.“So don’t expect your CNS to explain why you’re depressed.” Then he said in plain voice, “That group 9’s job. Not ours. We ain’t gettin’ no extra credit, why would we explain mental illnesses to you? Read the damn book,” and I pressed the arrow key and revealed a photo of the DSM-IV.The soft laughter quieted down, I pressed the arrow key and showed the same neuron diagram again, and George went right back into the song without missing a beat, “Central nervous system. Don’t need your permission. To tell you how you feel. The sensors and receptors on the surface of you. They pick up a signal. And then they wave it through. Electricity speeds down the track quickly.”The next slide was a Gif of a synapse, “Hoping from gap to gap. Neat and orderly. It picks a fast path and ends up in your brain. And your brain will explain what to do. And your body will follow and keep you being you.” The next slide was a Gif of people dancing, all smiles. Then I changed it to the next slide, which was a Gif of a hand jumping back after touching the flame of a candle.“Sometimes the track will react on cue. You hand or your leg will react and retract if there’s danger to you.You don’t even have to think, but you might scream. It’s called a reflex and its a perfectly natural thing. It just goes to show...“Central nervous system. Don’t need your permission. To tell you how you feel. If you're feeling worthless and undeserving of happiness or love. The CNS can’t help you that not what the CNS does. But if you feel can feel the tears flowing down your face, that’s the receptors in that place. The central nervous system, not asking your permission. To feel physically the things we see.” We were out of slides by then, and I just listened to George with everyone else. “And the invisible forces that haunt you and me. Emotions and conflicts that we all feel daily. That’s not the job of the CNS or me. It’s group 9’s responsibility...” the rest of the guys in our group cut out their drumming beats and let George take us home. “And we are group 8. Thanks again for listening.” And the class applauded. I think we ended up with  B- on the particular project.  Back then, John had a semi-unhealthy beef with a bitter rival named Jake McClendon who was on the school’s football team. And John played football most of his high school career but put all of his heart and soul into basketball his last two years, abandoning the rest of the football team and costing them the championship and leading the basketball team to it’s first ever victory since 1982. It was like High School Musical, but without the performing arts factor of it and more testosterone and threats of a violent nature.  Most of the aforementioned threats were made by Jake McClendon and John took them, obeying Jules’ pleas of “Not subjecting his gorgeous face to harm.” We were eating lunch at our table just the six of us and two of Jules and Roni’s girl friends when Jake McClendon walked by, dipped his fingers into John’s soda, and flicked it onto his face. I mumbled, “Real mature.” Jake stopped, turned back and got in John’s face, “What did you say, traitor?” I raised my hand, “I actually said--” He snapped to me, “Was I talking to you?” “As a matter of fact, yes.” I informed him. He got all in my face, “Why are you talking to me, queer?” Roni got enraged, “Jake, why don’t you go fuck yourself. You should know that’s not cool.” George just glared at him awfully. John finally spoke up after wiping the soda off his face, “Jake. This is our fight. Hell, not even mine, I’m over it. It’s your fight. You’re still acting like a little bitch, so leave my friends out of it, bitch to me, and I’ll kick your ass like a bitch. Okay?” “Man, don’t act like you’re real shit,” he yelled. By this point there was a considerable interest in our table among the rest of the lunch yard. “You ain’t shit, you’s a bitch!” He yelled, loving the attention. “You need to drop the sports and go back to your calculators. Go and play some golf. You’s a Tiger Woods looking bitch ass half nigga anyway.” John stood up. Jules grabbed his arm, “Baby, don’t give into him!” “He’s not worth it,” Roni added. But John stood up and shoved Jake’s shoulder, “So what? Why do I have to chose which one of my races to be? You need to go get your head checked or something, that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. You two vertices short of a polygon mother fucker. This nigga here is more dense than a set of irrational fuckin’ numbers. Can’t catch a wide end, butterfingers mother fucker. Thinking black and white’s not black enough to slap the black off his stupid ass.”The entire lunch yard by now was surrounding the two as Jake stuck his lip out like he was getting ready to fight, “But you ain’t black and white are you? You’s a buzzin’ fuckin’ bee.” As soon as he said this I could feel George beginning to stand up from next to me. Jake got in John’s face, “‘Cause you’s a black ‘n yellow, black ‘n yellow, bitch!”It happened in a matter of seconds: George was up, grabbed Jake’s shoulder, spun him around, sucker punched him in the jaw and sent him falling backwards right into John’s arms. John held him still while George continued to beat the living shit out of him. The entire school was going nuts. One of Jake’s football buddies came tearing through the crowd to get George and I panicked and leapt onto his back and began to choke him. Then he was shaking me left and right like a dog trying to get a sock off his tail, but I had him, my white-boy rage was overtaking me and I was still a bit angered by the whole queer bash Jake had lashed on me. Then I heard Roni yelling, so I opened my eyes and saw her scratching, punching and slapping the big lug I was choking. And he was yelling, “I can’t hit a girl! I can’t hit a girl!”And Roni yelled, “I’m not a girl! Hit me! I am an American!” And then Jules started screaming. And flashes on phones started going off. Then I saw some random fight-hungry psycho punch George and he fell to the ground so I got off the big lug and left him all for Roni.I ran toward George but I saw John yelling, “Turn around!!!!” So I did. Then I woke up in the nurses office.I had a giant shiner under my eye and an ache in my already injured testicles.George was laid up on the bench across from me with an icepack on his chin. He looked at me and laughed, “Good morning, Sunshine.” We each got a Saturday school, which didn’t phase Roni because she was booked for the remainder of the month for refusing to wear shirts that covered an inch of her shoulder at least.  After school that day John, George and I walked to the beach. We spent a few hours down there, John and George surfed and I watched and smoked until they came in and smoked too. “I can’t believe that racist punk jerk,” George said with a shake of his head, “He’s worth the Saturday school. I’d kick his ass again too.” “You’ve got my back,” John said laying back in the sand, handing the tiny glass pipe to George to put away. “I helped too,” I noted. John closed his eyes, “Yeah, Other John... sure.” I kicked sand on him, “When are you going to get over the fact that our parents both liked the name Jonathan?” “Fuck you, I was here first,” he reminded me. He was born in January, I was born in June. Jules picked John up and refused to give us a ride, claiming she had to go home and take care of her angel-baby. John gave us harsh looks and shooed us away.As Jules’ jeep drove off, kicking up clouds of dirt and sand, George watched on and told me, “That kid’s about to get his dick SUCKED!”  On our walk back to the school to get George’s car, we were crossing the bridge over the freeway when he and I passed a group of three girls. Two of them were braless, lifting up their shirts, flashing the cars below, the other was taking pictures from behind. I tried not to stare but it was like Christmas or something. I watched for as long as I could before they all turned to us as we passed, “Hey George,” they all purred. “Afternoon, ladies,” he greeted with his dashing smile. “Good fight,” said one of the flashers. “Thank you...” he chuckled modestly as we passed them. When we got far enough away he told me, “God, I hate that.” “Really?” I asked in disbelief as I snuck another peak behind me, “Seems exactly your scene.” “It would be if they didn’t have to photograph it like that. Why can’t they just do that to brighten those commuters’ days? No, instead they have to do it for proof. They need photographic evidence they did something edgy.” “What if it’s art? Like what if that girl is a photographer?” I pointed out. “She was using an iPhone, Bates.” He kicked a rock with his red boot, then again with his black boot, “I’m no snob, it’s a good way to take pictures spur of the moment. But those girls left their houses braless, this was totally a planned thing, not something they just did because they thought of it. If that girl was a photographer she’d have brought a better camera, since they went all the way to plan to not wear bras.” “Okay, so you think they’re doing it for attention?” He looked up at the sky, “They are doing it for attention. And I don’t give a shit if it’s for attention, they’re hot. They deserve attention, and they should be proud of being hot. I just hate that people don’t think memories are worth anything unless it’s liked, commented, subscribed, reblogged, shared, poked, tweeted, retweeted, hashtagged, yolo’ed--” “Oh shut. The. Hell. Up.” I laughed, “You are such a--” “Don’t say it,” he begged. I stared at him and enunciated, “Hip-ster!” He stared at the shiner below my eye, “Your headwound is making you speak nonsense.” He grabbed the sides of my head, “Let me kiss it and make it better,” he said. He pressed his lips on it. At first it was nice but then he added more and more pressure, “Ow,” I told him, “You dick-- OW!” I yelled, “That hurts!” And he kept shoving his face on my face and I kicked him in his shin and he fell over, taking me with him, into the flower bed full of dead flowers along the sidewalk. I kicked him again over and over again, “What. The. Hell?” And he got on me and pinned me to the ground and started punching my chest. I only struggled for a little until I got him off me and managed to get him on his stomach and pulled his arm behind his back. He wrestled for a little in the flower deathbed but realized there was nothing he could do without making it worse, “Uncle! Uncle! Jesus!” I got off him and stood up laughing. He huffed and puffed as he stood up and brushed the dirt off his legs. “Damn, Bates. You know not that many people can scare me like that while also giving me an erection.” I laughed, “You’re the worst.” “I am not. I am not a hipster either.” “Well then stop acting like one.” We started walking, “You know, my dad’s apartment isn’t far from here, it’s like a fifteen minute walk and he won't be home for another hour.” He looked at me with so much excitement, “You mean... we wouldn’t have to be quiet?” I shook my head and he took off running, “I’ll race you.” We took advantage of the privacy, so much so that to this day I prefer to respect that privacy that we got because it was rare we had it. So I’ll spare the details and keep them, as George and I used to say, in the dark. At one point though we got so intense we fell off the bed and just started laughing. “Holy shit...” George said, still laughing, “I’ve got a bruised hip, a cut up chin, a fucked up shin thanks to you. And you’ve got a black eye and twice wounded balls... what are we even doing? We’re a hot fucking mess.” I just laughed and stared at the ceiling.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

MARCH “Let’s play, ‘Where’s George?’ Ready, go!” George said on the other end of the phone.I was in my room doing homework. It was a Thursday night, the next day was St. Patrick’s day and I had a feeling doing my homework was pointless, Marty had made it pretty clear that we’d all die on St. Patricks day. A buddy named Daryl Hart was having a party and Jules was adamant we go balls out. Jules’ family is super Irish so St. Patrick’s day was always a big deal for her, as if she didn’t drink to excess every other weekend of the year.I put my books aside and said, “Where’s George?”“Parking lot of The Leaf, gave a great performance. I am in the backseat, the same back seat in which I just finished,” and he sang, “Bangin’ Faye Harley!”“Faye Harley?” I asked. She was a year older than us and graduated the year before. And she wasn’t fat at all, I’d never call her fat, but she was rounder and taller than most people who lived in our area. I could easily say she was about the same size as Marty; Who, though kept reminding us he was thinning out, was of the chubbier variety. “Isn’t she... I don’t know... she’s super funny and way hot but... you’re a bit smaller than the guys she’s usually with. You’re even probably smaller than her. Isn’t that intimidating?”“Not at all. Man... she was great. And now we’re even.” It was true, in the month of March I had hooked up with one more girl than George did, and because we’re dudes that’s a thing we kept track of. “Damn... Faye. Girls like Faye have everything right where you want it, you know? Everything you want to hold, you can, it’s right there. She was a superwoman!”“Is she the one?” I asked as I always did.“I don’t think so... she didn’t get my poem. She said I was all over the place. But she had no complaints on the encore I gave her.” And then I stayed on the line and listened to George as he sang every word to Queen’s Fat Bottomed Girls. I hung up and laid on my bed and thought back to a week before when I’d called him to one up him in our March hookups count.“Hey,” I told him when he answered.“Yooo,” he said back, “What’s going on man?”“I hooked up with Anna, you know Roni’s friend? We were all hanging out and she pulled me into Roni’s guest room.”He laughed, “Ha! Sounds intense. Did you fuck her?”“No...” I stammered, “No, we just hooked up.”“Oh so you just gave her a kiss and called it a night? Be real with me bro,” he said, “Did your lips stay on her mouth?”I hesitated, “Not the whole time.”“And did your hands stay out of her pants and off her chest.”I sighed, “No.”“Okay, so we’re getting somewhere. And did her lips stay... off your dick?”“No.” I was getting annoyed by that point.“Okay. So why did you not just say that?”“Because I am not like you George.”“Ha!” He yelled, “Good. Is she the one?” He asked as he always did.“Nah.”He was quiet for a little, then said, “Alright. Not too unfortunate, I mean she’s a little too mousey to have any real fun with, you know?” I got what he was saying and told him that. Then he asked, “So did you catch the new Viper episode last night?”We moved on, “Yeah. What’s up with Chandler, dude?”“No Idea.”“She’s pissing me off to be honest.”“I’m pretty sure she’s getting killed off next episode,” he told me (and he was right). “I also got Galaxy Conquest 6, want to come over and I can dominate your solar system and suppress your vile alien race?” And I did. Then at a party a few days after that phone call I saw George hooking up with this guy that I had math with who I had no idea was gay, or then again, maybe he wasn’t gay. Maybe he was just like everyone else who looked at George and was simply just turned on by his whole demeanor.I never really saw George hooking up with other guys, it usually happened at The Leaf and he’d call me and tell me about it. And it was never really sex, except for one time. When George would call me it was eight times out of ten to tell me he hooked up with a girl. Those times it would be a guy he took more caution in his bragging and then even more when he’d actually have sex with one.I saw George and this kid making out after we’d been at the party about an hour. He and I smoked a few bowls out on the balcony, then I left him to do shots with Roni and Jules. Then Marty and I were dancing like mad men with whoever we were closest to on the dance floor in the living room. Then I yelled some drunken insults at John who shoved me off, and I laughed. Then I saw them, George and that guy hooking up and I just felt a weird change in my mood. I felt like I had to do something to top that.So I leaned over the couch and interrupted two guys talking, one of which I noticed was looking at a little zipper bag with a few different colorful pills in it. “Hey,” I told him, “Can I maybe get something to calm me down?”He blinked at me, “Kevin?”I took a shot in the dark and hoped Kevin was a friend, “Yeah, that’s me.”He smiled, “Anything for Kev! Um, something to calm you down? I think those kinds are blue... Yeah,” he looked to his friend and they snickered, “The blue ones mean chill out, yeah... that’s why they’re blue.”That should have been a warning for me right there to leave, because the only thing I was doing in the situation at that point was depriving Kevin of a shitty pharmacist. And he handed me a long round blue pill, “Here you go.”“Is this going to kill me?”He laughed, “No, Kev. You’re crazy. It’s a Xanax,”His partner friend leaned into him, “Yeeah,” he said with a weird manic laugh, “It’s Xanax!” Which is something you don’t ever want to see from two people interacting with you in anyway. If you are making some type of business deal and one partner leans into the other and starts talking like a bank robber from the 1930’s, and licking his thumb, and looking like he’s mere moments away from making the most obvious wink in the world... I don’t know you should probably suppose you’re about it to swindled.But what could I do? I was wasted and not even a legal adult; Two of the most common variables of horrible decision making. Like that’s always the two things. If you heard someone tried to sneak a seal from the Russian circus onto a train to Munich at twelve AM on a tuesday, and then got naked, you’d assume two things: He was drunk. Or he was like 17. Because that’s an awful decision, and not just for the reason that if you stole something from the circus and tried to get it on a train, you should at least steal clowns because you could fit a whole lot of them into just one train carriage, presumably; I mean that is kind of in their thing. Plus you’d be liberating like 15 citizens from Russia, they’d probably call you a hero in the papers and not a lunatic. Not a drunk 17 year old lunatic.Which was what I was in that moment, I was a drunk teenage idiot looking for a quick way to get some leverage over my best friend again. So I decided to do drugs I had never done before, without any rationale. Hurray!I just took it, thanked him and left. He grabbed my sleeve, “What?”He told me, “That’s twenty, Kev.” And I gave him twenty, which turned out to mean twenty dollars. Not two double high-fives like I initially tried to give him. Yes, I tried to close out a drug deal with not one, but two double high-fives, like it was some lazy secret handshake. As if drug dealers started accepting late nineties greetings as currency. It was as if my mind thought we were in a world where you could get a 20 sack of weed for the simple price of a “Whaassuuppp???!?!?!??”Anyways, after an embarrassing rejection I gave him twenty dollars and then I left. It had no real effect for a while. I think it activated when I took a shot and another shot, then another one, then had some weird UPL mixed drink.Then I remember me standing on a table. Then I remember holding a really interesting painting in my hands that was once above their dining room table. Then I remember it on the floor in pieces and everyone cheering. I think somewhere in between I yelled, “ART IS A LIE!” Then more inappropriate dancing. Then running into a wall. Then making out with Yellow Head Michelle and two of her friends. My google search history tells me shortly after that I googled, “How fast does a herpes begin? Asking for friend” (You know, in case the government was monitoring. I didn’t want to soil my reputation). I think my mental processes went something along the lines of “Fuck it” after that. Because then not long after that google search, I got my first blowjob from a guy who wasn’t George. And it wasn’t bad. I didn’t return the favor or even make out with the guy either. That might have been rude.Then I remember sitting on the balcony rail, leaning back, looking at the stars, leaning back further, and further, and then George pulling me by my collar. “Bates! You almost just fell over that!”I realized I was no longer on the rail but standing next to George. I looked over the edge and realized how large the drop was.“What did they give you?” He asked urgently.“He said Xanax...”“What did it look like?”“It was long and blue and--”“Fuck,” When I looked back I saw George with his hands on the dude who gave me the pill’s collar, screaming in his face, “What the fuck!? You told him it was fucking Xanax? I know the shit you deal better than you do, you fucking asshole!” He shoved the kid who thought I was Kevin over a table then went over and pick him up again by his collar. Everyone on the balcony ran out of the way and watched on in shock, “If you EVER! Lie to someone about what you’re giving them to make so much as a buck I swear to GOD I will cut your FUCKING HEAD OFF!” And he threw him back again, but with less force and came back to me.I remember Roni hanging on to me and telling me everything was okay, even though I knew that. Everything felt great, I didn’t know why they were all so terrified. And then I looked in the mirror.Roni and John got me into George’s car and the two of us drove to his place. I caught a glance of my face in the rear view mirror and...You know the scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark? That last one? Where everyone’s eyes are exploding and melting and all that? Yeah, thats the only way I can describe how my eyes looked. They were huge and blood shot and my pupils were about the size of quarters.“Niiiigggggggaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh...” I slurred, “What is that?”George shook his head, “Just hang in there, man. Okay?” He looked at me but I could tell it was paining him to do so, and he looked away quickly.I looked out the window and watched as the trees lining the road formed faces and arms and tried to grab my body so they could swallow my soul and I said to George slowly, “I am hanging onto the reality by a rather precarious thread.” All I remember next was waking up in his bed with the worst stomach ache I’d ever had. I looked around George’s room but the walls were coming in on me as my head began to throb. “George?” I asked as I closed my eyes and laid back down.A few seconds later I left his hand on my head. I opened my eyes and he told me with a small sad smile on his tired looking face, “Morning, Sunshine. How’d you feel?”“Like shit.”“Good.”“Good?”He sat on the bed next to me, I kept my head down and my eyes closed, “Yeah,” he said, “maybe you won't ever want to do something like that again.”“Oh you’re such a hypocrite.” I told him, lugging my body toward the top of the bed, closer to the headboard, “You do drugs, George. Do you think you’re the only one who can? Because you fear not being unique? You have to be more than just a tapioca cube? More than human? More than everyone you know? If someone wants to do something like you, you have a pissyfit about it. Just... get over it. People are going to be like you, you’re not always going to be above mankind, you’re not always going to be special.” I think I was still a little buzzed, or just so out of it. I didn’t care what I said was going to hurt him. But that was how I felt.“Bates...” He said, I could instantly tell he was hurt, “I don’t want to be the reason you do anything that could hurt you.”I still hadn’t opened my eyes, “Why the hell do you care so much?”“They shouldn’t have lied to you.” He sounded disgusted, “They shouldn’t have lied to you about what they gave you.”“Well what was it?”“Why should I tell you? So you can go asking for it again? No, sorry Bates. I’m trying to help.” We were quiet for a while because I didn’t feel like arguing. Then I heard him say, “People like that, who will tell you anything just so they can make money off you, they’re the worst kinds of dealers. That’s how it got me.”“How what got you?” I asked.“I was just in such a bad place that I believed them when they said it wasn’t bad. I was just too quick to want to get away. They knew it too. One guy even told me it wasn’t heroin or that it was somehow less bad,” he started to laugh a little in a creepy and sad way, “I was an idiot, I mean what did I think it was? What was I telling myself?” He leaned back and I could feel his body closer to mine, “You don’t know what it’s like to be addicted, Bates. You don’t know what it’s like knowing the stuff you feel you can’t live without is going to kill you. You shouldn’t. You have a lot ahead of you”I opened my eyes and looked at him, “No I don’t. I’m staying here, you’re going away. I’m the one who doesn’t change remember. You guys don’t want me to change.”He rolled his eyes, “Changing and growing are two different things. You’re going to go on to do great things--”“And you’re not?”He said softly, “I just never feel like I’m going to make it that long.”“Well then stop drinking, and smoking, those things aren’t helping,” I told him. He didn’t fully grasp that sobriety meant to cut off all the heads of the beast.“I can’t. If it’s not those things it’s heroin and I’m not going there again. I just can’t,” and he turned on his side and laid facing me, “You help a little, you know?”“How?” I asked.“I don’t think about my dark places as much when we hang out. I mean, our other friends too, Roni, John, Jules, and Marty, they’re great. But you make me dumb. You make me dumb enough to endure pain in hope of some kind of outcome.”It was then I realized how dark it was, it couldn’t have only been a few hours. I leaned up and looked around, “What time is it?”“Ten...PM” he told me, “You kind of... missed a day.” Then I realized he was wearing an entirely different outfit than he had on at the party. “I took care of you though. Got you water, took you to the bathroom,” he smiled, “Held your hair back when you wretched and shook your dick after you peed.”I laughed a little, “Thanks man,” but I was actually a little upset. After all we’d just spoke, all George had opened up to me about, according to the rules we held sacred in those days, we could never speak of it again. Our secrets never left the dark. “I’m starving,” I whined.He laughed and rubbed the back of my head, “I’ll go fix you something.” March was a weird month. I mean, apart from that conversation there was all sorts of weirdness going on. That night George called me to tell me he hooked up with Faye Harley, not too long after, Roni came climbing in my window. “Psst!” She called. I sat up on my bed and waved her in. “Jules is here too!” And they both came sliding in from the branches of the tree out front my window. Jules had a giant backpack on that she sat on the floor before her and Roni sat on my bed. Jules told me, “So Anna can’t stop talking about you. Are you going to ask her out again?”“I never asked her out in the first place, that whole thing just kind of happened,” I said as Roni leaned on the pillows next to me.Roni told Jules, “Whatever. Anna and Bates just wouldn’t be good together anyways.”I looked at her, a bit surprised, “Why not?”She shrugged, “You just aren’t. She’s not the type of person I see you with.”“Who do you see me with?” I asked.Roni thought, which was something I really loved about her. She always thought things out well before she said them. Then she came up with what she thought was perfect, “You’re a triangle, and she’s a rectangle.” Roni was always comparing things to shapes, people especially. “You’re like a bountiful giving cornucopia of surprises. She’s a selfish road that leads to nowhere.”I laughed, “Who would you want me to be with?”Jules grabbed her backpack and pulled it on the bed, “Roni doesn’t want you with anyone. She wants you to take care of her forever.”Roni kicked Jules, “Shut up! Bates, ignore her.”I didn’t. I got flush. I started imagining a life with Roni. Just her and I forever, always laughing, always having fun, making fun of each other, punching each other, maybe someday kissing each other. Roni was just sitting there making an embarrassed face that I just wanted to kiss so badly but stupid Jules was still sitting there.Jules pulled beer bottles out of her backpack, “Happy St. Patrick’s day,” she told me as she handed me one, “We’re starting early... well,” she checked the clock, “Only about a half hour early but still.”Regardless to the fact I was opening it I said to her, “You know we have school in the morning right?” They both just smiled at each other, “You aren’t going, are you?”Jules toasted me, “Come on, loser. Party with us! We’re young!”I laughed really hard, “Dude, what does being young have to do with it? We’re still going to party when we’re old.”She laughed too and sat next to me, “Yeah we’ll break our hips together and you can load up on viagra...”“Screw you,” I shoved her, “I’ll always be able to get it up.”Roni smiled at me, bright and genuine, “Somethings will never change.” I narrowed my eyes, I never knew what she meant by that.“Think we’ll go to each other’s weddings and stuff like that?” Jules asked with small traces of timidness. Then she added more upbeat, “You’re all invited to mine and John’s wedding.”“I don’t think John will want me there,” I joked.Jules sighed and grabbed my knee, “I wish you two got along better.”“We do get along, we just bust each other’s balls is all. And he’s super butthurt that my name is also John. Even though I’ve never been called that by anyone but my mother.”Roni scoffed, “He’ll address your invite to their wedding to Other John and guest.”I looked down at Roni, “I’ll probably be married by then,” I told her. I hoped to her.She shot down my claim, “Please. As soon as Jules turns eighteen, she’s going to have John’s dick locked down. So unless you and George or you and Anna elope now, that’s not happening.”“It’s true,” Jules said after chugging a few sips. She burped then went on, “I’ve got my dress on hold, my flowers and colors picked out. Our china patterns too even. And our wedding cake will be marble, to represent our future blended children... Oh they’re going to be so cute!” She beamed.I ignored Jules fantasy, “George and I would never elope.”Roni laughed, “You’re right. He would have some big ceremony just to be ironic.”“No,” I contradicted, though I didn’t entirely disagree, “He and I would never... he and I aren’t like that. He’s my friend, that’s it. We don’t like each other in that way. It’s just sex not love.”Jules and Roni exchanged silent words in some girl language. Then Jules prodded, “That felt like an awful lot of reassurance on your part.”I rejected that, “That was a lot of repetition to get it through your thick skulls. You guys are so annoying.”Jules ignored my insult, “So you bring George in your room, you two make out and have sex, and your mom and Lance don’t know? Not even your dad? They aren’t even curious?”I rubbed my temples, really bothered by the question, “We have sex one out of five times we hang out. We mostly just talk or play video games and argue about stupid guy shit. He plays guitar or piano, I do homework then we eat or something... we’re friends.”Jules concluded, “No, you’re an old married couple.”I finished my beer and went to go open the window, “Later guys,” and I motioned them out.Roni got up off the bed and walked over to me, smiling the whole time. She put her arms around my neck. She smelled like vanilla and cigarettes. Her lips had just a little bit of gloss left on them and most of her makeup had faded away as the day got later and I could see her freckles again. “Bates... come on.” She kissed the bottom of my chin and rested her head on my chest. I didn’t want her to stop, but I really didn’t want her to have a front row seat to hear my heartbeat accelerating. “Let’s have fun, you haven’t partied hard since your... uh...” She asked Jules, “How did you put it?”She put her backpack on and stood up next to my bed, “AOD. Almost over-dose.”I put my arms around Roni and she began to rock us back and forth, “I did not almost OD. I just shouldn’t have chased alcohol with more alcohol, then taken MDMA.”Roni looked up, “How’d you find out that’s what it was?”I smirked and informed her, “George isn’t the only kid who knows what people deal at our school. I asked around. I won’t do it again, it made me vomit my face off.”Roni dragged me closer to the window and began to climb back out by herself. “Please, please, please come with us. George is going to be there, I’ve already texted him.”“Where are we even going?”She smiled, “My dad’s office.”I looked back at my bed then back at beautiful Roni in that cliche back and forth internal conflict of a nerd boy. Then like every nerd boy being tempted by a gorgeous girl who he thinks he’s in love with I acquiesced. Remember when I said Roni’s dad was the mayor at this time in our lives?Sneaking into city hall wasn’t hard, Roni had a key. There was security at a desk watching the security monitors right across from the hall we had to get to to get into Roni’s dad’s office.We had our backs against the wall, taking turns peering around the corner like we were in a Scooby Doo episode. George whispered, “I think he’s like... slow. Like we can outrun him.”“Oh,” I told him, “I thought you meant mentally.” The girls giggled. I whispered over them, “But yeah, sure. We can definitely outrun him. He livesoff powdered doughnuts so much he probably also gets off on them.”Jules stopped me before I went for it, “Easy for you to say. I’ve got a backpack of beer and George has got a backpack of weed--”I took the backpack off George’s shoulder and strapped it on. I instructed for George to take Jules’ backpack and any blame should we be caught. “You guys got me to sneak out of my house. ditch school, and break into government property. I’m not going to waste the probable punishments I’ll receive by being a pussy. Let’s go.”Roni gave me a look of approval while George and Jules just stared. George finally smiled and said in a raspy whisper, “You’re real sexy when you take control like that,” and he made a low purring growl.I ignored the praise and stood up straight and walked right to the hallway behind the back of the security guard. I waved them over and they came one by one. First Roni with the key in hand. Then Jules with her shifty eyes. Then George with his backpack of beer and Judd Nelson coat. Seeing it flow like that behind him with each powerful stride he took, it made me remember when he let me wear it just once.It was a few days after the whole fucked up event with the pills and all of that. He and I were back to the way things were, just being best friends who occasionally do homosexual things to each other. He called me early one Saturday morning and asked if I wanted to go skateboarding. It was a great day for it so we started at the skate park near my neighborhood.Maya was there, and she was still obsessed with George after he’d “eaten dat pussy too good” then jumped out of her window and he avoided her eyeline at all costs. So we chatted up some other dudes, scraped ourselves up pretty bad falling off rails and jumps trying to outdo each other. I’d landed a jump from the stairs twice, whereas George never could get it.I suggested the coat was throwing him off so I told him to try it without it. He hesitated at first and I rolled my eyes at him, “Are you seriously concerned about fashion? You hipster?”He glared at me as he shrugged it off and tossed it at me, “Try not to get any dork on it.”I happily put it on. It was heavier than I thought. George still looked great, he was wearing a flannel and a Violent Femme’s t-shirt. He had on one Vans (I’m not sure if wearing one Vans shoe makes it a Van, but that’s what he had on his left foot) and a blue Converse on his right foot. He got to the top of the stairs again and attempted to go for the gold. He kicked off and then grinded down the rail about halfway. When it got to the point where he had to jump in order to outdo me he jumped and landed on his back. He laughed it off. “Oh, shit.”Thank God he was wearing a helmet. We always wore helmets when doing more deadlier (for us anyways) stunts. We should have worn them all the time, seeing how often we were swerving in and out of traffic McFlying around town. But most kids in those days wore nothing as far as protection goes. One of those kids was this guy who looked about our age but I’d never seen before. He came over to where George was sitting on the steps and I was laughing.“Nice helmet, faggot.” He taunted.George stood up and faced him, “Kirby. How’s it going? You like my helmet?” I didn’t know how George had heard of this Kirby dude, but he seemed like a real jerk.“I think it does a good job of pointing out the geeks and the faggots,” he explained.George knocked on the side of the helmet, “Yeah. I wear it because, unlike you, I’ve got some brains I like to protect.” All of Kirby’s friends made faces at George to let him know he’d done fucked up now, but George, classic George kept smiling at them.I was kind of happy I had taken my helmet of a while back when I started to get sweaty. I didn’t feel like being tormented by Kirby. He was skinny but he had those skinny guy muscles and crack whore strength like he’d done some stuff to people out on the streets in the past and wasn’t about to pussy out of doing it again.“What the fuck bitch? Say that again.” Kirby threatened.“I wear it. Because. Unlike. You. I. Have. BRAINS. I would like to protect,” George enunciated. “I know you’re a bit impaired. I’ll. Talk. Slower. From. Now. On.”Kirby’s face enraged, “You better run. Fast.”George looked over Kirby’s shoulder at Maya who was staring at the two of them, jaw dropped. “Hey Maya!” She shot her eyes back and forth from Kirby to George in a fit of silent panic.“You talking to my girl?”George chuckled, “Yeah. I fucked her.” I slapped my hand over my mouth. “Please tell her to stop calling me.” George unsnapped his helmet and placed it gently on Kirby’s head, “Here ya go. You don’t want to do any damage to those soft spots,” then he took off running, “BATES RUN!”And we darted off. We threw our boards down once we hit the street and we began to barrel down the road, his Judd Nelson coat flapping behind me in the wind. I laughed and laughed and kept checking over my shoulder. When I noticed them I yelled to George we had to lose them.He looked around then shouted to me, “Ranger Rover!” Just as a Range Rover crossed the road and headed right. We McFly-ed to the right and latched on to the car as it turned the corner. I looked over my shoulder again and they flew passed where we had turned out. After a few minutes George and I let go and drifted away. We celebrated not getting out nuts smashed in with a five hour Galaxy Conquest 6 marathon. My empire in the Pulxtonis Galaxy had yet to fall to the Athenial empire of George’s in the first three hours but he came back hard in the last two.I was pushing buttons like mad, watching him out of the corner of my eye and secretly hating his guts, “Can’t we just do co-op mode. We’d accomplish so much more with an alliance!”He pressed buttons harder and faster, “Ha! I can accomplish way more without your shitty skills holding me back, thank you.” And he blew up my science station.“Great. Now I can’t do science.” I tried to send emergency space pods to save any survivors but there were no survivors. Or space pods. I really sucked at that game, but it was so addicting.“Suck it up, bitch. At least you have the school.” Then he blew up the school and looked at me as I stared at the mushroom clouds and screaming alien children, “Oooooooh. You don’t have a school.”I tossed down my controler.“Want to play Galaxia instead?”I asked, “Is it anything like Galaxy Conquest?”He shrugged then laughed, “It’s the PC version. I need help whooping the Iandrian of Orion Mighty Warrior of the Holy Galactic Belt dude’s ass, he owns like seventy five percent of the free universe, man.”My eyes widened, “He’s overthrown The Galactic Belt?! Shit, I can’t even assemble a proper working space pod.” I leaned back in my beanbag chair. I was still wearing his Judd Nelson coat. George had taken off his flannel and was just in his Violent Femme’s shirt.I watched him get up and walk to his guitar. He brought it back over and started to play. I sat for a while and just listened to him. He wasn’t singing, just playing a mix of different things.I stared at his hands as he strummed, “What do your tattoos say?”He immediately stopped playing and looked up at me, “Ask me later.” Later meaning, when the sun went down and we would shout our secrets into the dark and never see them again.  Then he screamed, “Baby go on! Like a blister in the sun! Baby go o-on! Big hands, I know you’re the one!” I stayed for dinner. His dad was making burritos when we went down stairs and they smelled too good to bail on.George went up to his dad from behind as he stood over the stove and slapped his shoulders, “Special treat, dad! I’m going to show my face. I’m making a special guest appearance at the dinner table.”His dad turned around, “Well I’ll be damned.”George sat on the counter, “And I’ll be featuring Jonathan Bates.”He turned back around and saw me sitting at the bar on the counter. He raised his eyebrows, “Well I’ll be not so damned. How’s it going Bates?”“It’s alright.”“Yeah? How’s school?”I admitted, “Well it’s okay I guess. Not as impressing as George’s school life.”He turned back around and lifted one eyebrow, “Did you mean to say school life or did you mean sex life?” I was thrown off.George gasped, “Dad. Jesus Christ.”His dad slapped him with a towel, “You are my son. I know what it’s like to be young and look just like that.”I didn’t disagree that George was insanely good looking. I just shook my head, “I did mean to say school life.”George’s dad turned around and carried the stack of tortillas to the counter, “Yeah, sure. How much did he pay you to spew that bullshit?”I watched George pick his nose, “I wish he had. I hate thinking this idiot gets good grades and Ivy League acceptance letters and I don’t.”George wiped his finger on the sleeve of the Judd Nelson coat and I screamed. George defended himself, “What? It’s my jacket.”His dad looked closer at me, “Whoa, I can’t believe you got him out of that thing.” I remember laughing but in my head thinking, I can get your son out of a whole lot more than just this jacket. “I can’t believe you’re letting him wear that.” He told George. I laughed again, but I remember thinking, you wouldn’t believe the things your son lets me do.George kicked his legs back and forth, “Yeah it’s only wounding a small portion of my soul to see it with someone else.”“Shut up,” I joked, “I look good.”George’s dad laughed then asked, “So what’s the plans for tonight?”George replied, “Probably just a Viper marathon.”His dad groaned and look at me, “I wish you hadn’t shown him that show. It’s all he talks about now, all he tries to get us to watch, it’s always his excuse ‘Dad, I can’t do the dishes. If I don’t watch Viper live they’ll lose viewership, get canceled, and Bates will spoil it for me!’ it’s ridiculous.”I sided with George obviously, “Well it is the greatest show ever.”His dad gave us a look, “Don’t play with me. I know you guys just like it for the tits.”George and I laughed. George saved our asses, “Well it is very compelling too. Especially this season. Chandler’s new trainee is stealing her thunder and it’s starting to affect her espionage and her husband in the KGB is on to her.”I got excited, “And her sister is still being held hostage by Mikhailov but he’s been poisoned and is supposed to die in three days--”George stood up on his knees and shook his dad’s shoulders, “But the actor who plays Mikhailov is signed on for two more seasons SO WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN?”His dad shoved him off and went over to the sink, “You’re going to have two years worth of excuses why your room looks like shit.”“My room looks fine.”“I cannot see the floor, I almost died trying to bring your laundry in. I tripped on the fucked up coffee table you still have lying around.”George stood up on the counter, “It’s art. Don’t say it’s a table. He’ll get pissed.”“Whatever it is, it needs to be cleaned,” he said as he began to scrub the pans.I looked around, “Hey, where’s Mel?” George looked at me and shook his head as he rolled his eyes.“Doctor’s. She should be back soon though.”George faced his dad’s back and said to him, but directed at me, “She’s seeing if she’s still fertile.”“George...” his dad warned.“What. I don’t care. And neither do you. You get to jerk off into a cup every once in a while, she gets a baby, and I get years of reassurance that I’ll always be loved equally. It’s win/win/win.”I’m lucky George’s dad is a cool guy or the next thing would have been awkward. While his dad’s back was still turned, George started to mime jerking off while doing some weird sexual dance, one arm in the air and the other busy with the invisible dick. When his dad turned around all he did was say, “Hey! No feet on the counter.”

After dinner and a monstrous Viper marathon it was three in the morning. We were laying in his bed in the dark. So I asked, “What do your tattoos say?”I felt him reach for my hand and he guided it to his wrists and moved my finger along the faint bumps and ridges I felt. “They hide my scars.” He told me. And I stayed quiet like we usually did when we’d confess stuff in the dark. It made it easier for the other person. “I have a tendency to overthink things. And once I start, I cannot stop. It’s like hearing voices sometimes. I spiral for so long that I’m no longer thinking I’m just hearing my thoughts being screamed at me. All these negative thoughts on the world I’m in and who I am and I can’t stop it once it starts. It can last days and I go into depression or my dark places.“It would usually happen every night and I’d be afraid to go to sleep because I was afraid of what I’d think about. I’d stay up until I’d pass out because falling asleep meant falling into that spiral. When I was younger, the only time I could stop it was with physical pain. So before I’d go to bed I would... you know. I’d cut myself to shut my mind up. And the pain was relief from the madness. And I liked knowing that if I messed up, went to far, that’d be it. It wouldn’t be entirely an accident but it also wouldn’t be my fault it would just sort of happen.“One night it almost did and,” He stopped talking and I could hear a smile on his face, “God damn. I can’t believe I’m articulating this so well. I haven’t talked about it in years.”I never let go of his wrist and hand as he went on with his story. I assured him, “You’re doing fine. What happened?”He took a deep breath, “I almost went too far. I was hurt pretty bad. I was just staring at it. And my mom came in and saw all that blood, and the look of fear on my face. I mean, Bates, I was only in eighth grade, I can’t even imagine how awful that’d be to see a thirteen year old in that position.“She took me to the hospital and they held me because they don’t let you leave after suicide attempts for at least two days. I stayed in the mental ward about three days. Then I got out and mom found me a therapist, it took a few tried but we found one I didn’t entirely resent. She gave me a rorschach test that I failed because I never saw anything. I answered ‘A disaster’ or ‘A mess’ for all of them. They suggested I go back to the ward for at least a week. It ended up being more.“It’s not like on TV where you do arts and crafts and play instruments with deep edgy teens. It’s not like in movies where everyone’s batshit and creepy looking and nuns walk around performing exorcisms. It’s a hospital. It’s sterile and the people have all seen hell. You fear for your life. I went into my spiral again. I stole a nurses keys and tried to use those to do it again but my roommate yelled for the nurses. I fought them like crazy. Yelled, swore, kicked, bit, I felt entirely psychotic.“I can’t explain what it’s like to be barely out of puberty and forced to sleep in a straightjacket. But after a while I got let out and I really tried hard not to go back. And my mom and dad hugged me and were all happy to see me again. My brothers, the twins, they hadn’t graduated yet so they were at home and happy to see me too.“But I knew I wasn’t better. I knew I’d never be better. Seeing the scars was tortue. I felt like a failure. And side note, that’s why I get pissed when people say that photos of people’s scars online is ‘tragically beautiful’. No it’s not. It’s awful. I met a lot of people who cut in the ward and let me tell you not one of them said that taking pictures of their bloody scars and posting them online made them feel better. So why are these people doing it? I mean if it really really does make you feel better, then go ahead, take your pictures. But just know that by doing that, you’re creating this romanticized idea of the thing. People who would never normally cut and who shouldn’t, they see those and they think its normal, or worse, they think its cool and they take a razor to their arms, or a thumb-tack, or scissors. I feel like I’m being mocked when I see those pictures being celebrated. I feel like my pain isn’t being taken as something real. People think it’s art, they don’t realize it’s a disease. A dark monster of a disease. Wanting to be dead is not poetic or tragically beautiful. It never EVER should be. It’s my biggest pet peeve. But back to the point...“I didn’t want to go back. I just needed outlets so I wouldn’t spiral and go into those dark places. I needed motivation. And I told that to my mom and she made me make a list of all the things I like. I thought it was a stupid exercise, like she’d make me read it everyday or pin it to my wall.”The smile returned in his voice, “But she took me on a long drive with my list. And we wound up at this tattoo shop where a highschool friend of hers worked. And it was really illegal but he tattooed every word I wrote down, everything I loved, onto each wrist. So when I’d feel low enough, I’d look at them and not want to cut those tattoos, those reminders of what I loved. The guy who did them still touches them up for me for free every year. And every year he sees me, still alive, man it’s... it’s great to see someone care that much. Plus he sees it as honoring my mom. I can’t believe my mom did that for me. But when it’s your youngest kid’s life I guess...“She died not long after that. Cancer came fast and took her even faster. Four months is all it took to take her. That’s when I really wanted to cut. But her being gone, man... it made that tattoos even stronger. But I was still low. And that’s when it got me. When I turned to heroin, I was a freshman.” He rolled over and faced me. I still had his hand and I used it to pull him even closer to me, “But Bates, I will never go down that path again. I promise you.”I kissed his tattoos, “Promise yourself.”He nodded. A few seconds later he told me, “It’s her’s by the way.”“What is?”“The coat. It’s my mom’s.” And there it was, flapping behind George as he and I followed Roni, to break into the mayor’s office.Roni got the key in and we all hurried inside. George looked around and smiled, “Wow... sweet digs, babe.” He put his arm around Roni, “You done good.” He kissed the top of her head and took a seat behind the desk then spun around a few times, “Ooh. I can feel the power surging through me.”Jules sat at his feet and went through her backpack and pulled out a beer for her and George. They opened them and cheers’ed then drank. George then began to pack a bowl and roll a joint at the same time, multitasking on the mayor’s desk.Roni danced over to the tiny fancy bar, “Ooh. Looky here.”I walked up behind her and said in my best Don Draper impression, “Pour me a stiff one, doll. And make it quick, I’ve got to cheat on my wife in five and I’d like to be lightly sauced before then.”She smiled at me and poured us each a UPL (Unidentified Political Liquid) and she toasted to me, “Who’s the lucky mistress this time? Maggie? Peggy?” She struggled to keep a straight face when she couldn’t think of another old timey name, “Vv-Velma?”I laughed but still tried to stay in character, “Vv-Velma? You know I think it was supposed to be Vv-Velma,” she was cracking up by this point, “But could you push her back a few hours.”“Why? What lucky old gal do you want?”I winked, “You’re looking at her.” I fucked up.She came out of character, “Wait, what? Who am I looking at?”I panicked, “I mean. I’m looking at her.”“What?”I took a much needed drink, “Nothing.”“Oh it’s me!” She chimed, finally getting it. “You want me to go under the desk?” I was still drinking when she bit her lip and stepped closer to me, “Get in between your legs and...” I lowered the glass from my lips.I tried to swallow and play it cool as she made a little walking man with her hand and made him walk up me from my chest to my neck. I tried to say something but I coughed and choked on the strong scotch.Roni laughed at me and pointed at me like a school yard bully. I wiped my face, “It’s like gasoline. Sorry, you were saying?” But she just kept laughing and walked away. I stood facing the bar, her laughter drifting over my shoulder. To my reflection in the dark window I mouthed, “Idiot.”I turned around and saw Jules smoking the joint and George setting the pipe on the desk and begin to start looking at the framed photos of Roni and her family on the desk. I had to ask, “What if your dad finds out we’re here?”Roni snagged the joint from Jules, “I’ll blame my brothers.” She light the end of it and smoked in a way that would make 80’s Molly Ringwald entirely irrelevant.George held up the picture of two boys in soccer uniforms, “These brothers?”I leaned over his shoulder and looked closer at the picture, “Yeah. They look real troubled.”“Shut up,” Roni said through smoke, “They’re in middle school. That’s when they start rebelling.”Jules started to giggle, “Bates, tell us a joke.”I had barely got the pipe to my lips when she asked that, I lowered it and squinted at her, “What?”“You’re funny,” she said from the floor, “Say something funny for St. Patrick’s Day”“There’s nothing funny about St. Patrick’s Day,” I said after I took a pretty solid hit, “I mean, I’m Irish too and--”“You are?” Asked George.I shrugged, “Well I’m white. I’m sure there’s got to be a hint of Irish in there somewhere. But it’s like... we’re in America. What the fuck do we care if Ireland has a few less snakes or whatever-- See! I don’t even know the story!”“Bates,” George called, patting my knee, “If there’s a holiday that will give Americans an excuse for their drinking problems and tendencies to be idiots even just for a day, we’ll adopt it.” He started tapping on the desk, “I expected this to be more expensive and tadow, you know? This seems kind of--” He tried to open a jammed drawer, “Is he trying to be a mayor of the people?”Roni reflected, “He bought it from the charity at our church.”“Oh yeah,” I said as I recalled the numerous volunteer hours I put in just trying to get close to Roni, “Crap for Christ, right?”She dropped her jaw and gasped at me, “Junk for Jesus! They take donations and sell them. The money goes to like Africa or something.”George picked at the pealing paint on the desk, “Well Garbage for God surely lives up to it’s name.”“Junk for Jesus,” Roni corrected, “Hey, at least some kid got a bible and a vaccination out of it.”“Yeah I guess,” He agreed.Jules scoffed, “You’re Jewish, George.”He kicked her lightly, “What does that have to do with anything?” Jules just stared at him then started to smile, concealing a laugh. George  cracked up, “Jules is cashed. Jules can’t handle her shit.”She slurred, “I’m just so happy it’s St. Patrick’s Day. And we aren’t going to school tomorrow. And we’re going to a party. And Bates isn’t going to OD.”“I did not OD.”Jules mocked me, “I am hanging on to the reality by a very fragile thread.”I slapped George, “You told them that?”He snickered and spun around so I couldn’t  hit him again, “I had to! I had to! It was just too funny, man.”Jules heaved herself off the ground, “No, stop. I’m going to pee myself. I need to use the bathroom.”Roni tried to stop her, “The guard will hear.”Jules pushed passed, “I won't flush then.”Roni opened the door and put a finger over her lips and whispered, “We’ll be back.”“Be careful,” I warned. Roni nodded and then the two left and she shut the door quietly. Then it was just George and I.George spun around. Legs crossed, fingertips pressed together, eyebrow raised, smirking like some weird evil bastard. I just laughed out of confusion. He got up from the chair and came over to where I was sitting on the desk. He put his arms around me and began to kiss my neck.“George? What are you doing? They’re going to come back,” I urged him to stop and tried not to get too aroused.“No they are not. They’re chicks, we’ve got plenty of time. It’s been too long, babe. Plus,” He looked at me, “I’ve never done it in a government office.”I tried to wiggle him off me but he held me closer, “But you’ve done it in an office?”“Yeah my dad had a hot intern one summer.” I dodged his oncoming kiss and he tried to make it up to me, “But you’re hotter. And this office will make it hotter.”“You don’t even have a condom,” I countered.He shook his head and proved me wrong by reaching into his back pocket, pulling out his wallet, and taking out a condom with two fingers, the whole time saying, “Bates, Bates, Bates. It’s like you don’t even know me at all.”“No, I know you,” I promised him.“Come on, let’s do it on Jesus’s desk.”“As a former volunteer of Junk for Jesus, I can certainly say that would be a sin.”“Well... I’m Jewish.” I don’t know why that sealed the deal or whatever but I gave in, mostly because I knew the more we argued the less time we’d have.
 
I’ll admit it was strange to be having sex on a desk surrounded by photo’s of Roni when she had braces and her hair was all one color but George was right. There was something so Mad Men about it. We laughed when it the desk started creaking and wobbling and the pictures started falling over. But we didn’t say a word when we realized we were suddenly on the floor on a pile of papers, shattered glass, and splintered wood. We didn’t look around, we just stared at each other for what felt like forever while the shock of what just happened wore off.He jumped off me and we both stood up and pulled out pants up from around our ankles and then finally looked at what we did. There really was not much left of the desk. Some of the drawers were there still and the frames weren’t all broken. But it was definitely royally destroyed.“Fuck. Fuck!” I gulped, “What the fuck?”When I looked at George and just saw that he was chuckling at it I laughed too. He looked at me and just laughed louder, “Shit for the Savior sure lived up to it’s name.”“Yeah, mazeltov. What now?”“We’re so fucked.”“What do we do?”He surveyed the scene again, “Remember what we did with Kirby and his gang?”“Run?”“Exactly,” he ran around the pile and grabbed the backpacks then dashed toward the door, “Run!”We bursted out of the office and bolted down the hall. Jules and Roni came running out of the bathroom. Roni’s eyes were about the size of the moon and she shouted, “What was that?” We turned around at the sound of footsteps and saw the light of a flashlight beginning to beam from the other end. “Shit. Shit. Shit.” Roni chanted.George was trying to get the backpack on Jules when Roni started running toward the lights. Jules freaked out and began to follow her.I yelled after them, “What are you guys doing? We need to get out of here!” But George just grabbed my arm and we ran out of city hall the way we came in.We walked down the sidewalk just the two of us, waiting for the girls. We found a bench and tried to catch our breath. “What do you think they’re doing?” I asked.“Taking the fall.” He guessed, “Or getting us off the hook and there’s only two ways they can do that.”“Which are?”“The ‘I’m the mayor’s daughter’ route. Which Roni will most likely take. Or the ‘I’ll show you my tits’ route which Jules will take.”I thought about it for a little, “Roni could do either route.”“Roni does have really nice tits,” he marveled.I agreed, “Yeah.” And we were both silent for a while, either waiting for Roni or thinking about her tits, either one. Finally I heard laughter and George and I stood up and looked down the sidewalk. “There they are.” We ran over. “What the hell, guys?”“Wait,” George silenced me. “I’ve got money on showed tits. Five bucks. But if they went the do you know who I am route, I owe you.” He pointed at Roni, “Okay, reveal.”Jules slapped his hand away, “You’re both wrong. We got out of it no problem,” she bragged. “All we had to do was offer him beer.” George and I exchanged shocked glances. Then Jules shouted, “It’s St. Patrick’s Day, BITCHES!!”
 
We walked to the park and hung out there and talked and talked for hours and hours until we were out of things to smoke and drink and we saw the sun come up.John couldn’t ditch because of his remarkable perfect attendance award was basically in the bag. Marty told us he couldn’t ditch until third after he’d taken a math test. So we went to a diner and had breakfast then went to a movie. We did a double feature: One action packed thriller with guns, babes, and explosions and one childrens movie about talking marine animals.
 
Then it was noon so we went to my mom’s. Her and Lance were both at work so we took advantage, played music loud and swam in my pool and chilled in the jacuzzi.At one point we played chicken with Roni on my shoulders and Jules on George’s. Roni and I won, to no surprise of our challengers, Roni has a tendency to be a tad aggressive.I was sitting on a little step in the deep end with my head on the lip of the pool, staring up, eyes closed, letting the sun wash over my face. I felt someone swim up to me. I wasn’t sure who it was until I felt him stadle me. I didn’t lift up my head, “Go away George. I’m relaxing.”“Easy there, Sunshine.” I lifted my head and smiled at him. I liked the way he looked with his hair back from the water and little drops on his face reflecting the sun. His eyes squinting in the brightness, his shoulders glistening. “What are you thinking about?”I wasn’t thinking about anything before he came along. I just told him, “I’m thinking about how self improvement is coping mechanism designed to make you think your changing when you’re not, you’re only really shaming your true self and repressing all senses of who you are to become society’s idea of better. When self destruction is accepting who you are and having the courage to believe you’re strong enough that you can’t get much worse, only make a few memories and mistakes. Mistakes from which you can then learn from and grow. Which is much better than changing, and self improvement.”George leaned his forehead into mine, “Bates, you can’t keep turning me on like this all the time.” He started kissing me slowly and he put his fingers in my wet hair and I latched onto his torso. Then we were making out and I was faintly smiling the whole time.After a few minutes I heard Jules and Roni stop talking. Then Roni shouted, “Ew! They’re making out!” Followed by Jules’ raspy laugh.George and I broke apart but not entirely and he said to me, “You’re making me really dumb today.”And I smiled and said, because it felt like days ago rather than just a few hours, “We broke a desk today.”He leaned away from me and swam backwards, “Ha! He’s in his office right now trying to figure out what the fuck happened. Although... shit.”“What?”“I left the condom on the ground.”I splashed him, “You idiot! What about DNA?”“What about DNA? He’s not going to call the cops and if he does, the cops won't know it’s my semen, they don’t have my sperm in a data bank.” Then he swam towards Roni, “We weren’t making out that much! We were just having fun.” Then he swam on top of her and said, “Watch.”And he kissed her. Jules whooed and I didn’t have a word for how awkward I felt. I guess awkward works, but it doesn’t entirely cover it. I could see George wasn’t using any tongue the first five seconds. Roni was the one who slipped it in and George just went with it for about two more seconds before cutting her off and said, “See? It’s fun.” I looked away, I didn’t want to see Roni smile at George like that, especially since I was still in love with her.My wallowing was cut off when I heard my gate opening in the side yard followed by, “What’s up fuckers?” I turned around and saw Marty in his bathing suit and a case of beer on his shoulder. He was the only one in our group with a fake ID so we greeted and treated him like a king everytime he came over bearing the goods.
 
We all got in the jacuzzi and told Marty about our adventures in the night and we all laughed. Marty couldn’t get one thing straight though, “Wait wait wait. So the desk just broke?”George and I looked at each other and both answered, “Well...”Marty deadpanned, “Oh don’t tell me.” He held up a hand, “Don’t even tell me. You two did not fuck on the mayor’s desk.”Jules and Roni slowly turned to us. Roni slowly and terrifyingly questioned, “Did you two do it on my dad’s desk?” Silence. “Did you two have sex on JESUS’ DESK?!”George swallowed a sip of beer and then changed gears from embarrassed kid to full on dude, “So I was like mid-pump, right?” He said as if it was the beginning of some clever anecdote.Everyone started to splash he and I and scream at us. I couldn’t make out what they were saying but it was angry and loud.Marty spoke first once the abuse ended, “Can you two keep it in your pants for, like, five minutes?”“Actually,” George countered, “That was the first time we’d had sex in like a week.”“More than that even,” I added. Roni made a face, “What?”She looked at the bubbles and ran her fingers in them, “I’m just struggling to believe you two remained abstinent for a week.”“Well, Roni, George and I aren’t entirely monogamous. You know that. Just because we didn’t have sex with each other doesn’t mean we were abstinent,” I marked. Even though I had been.Jules almost gagged, I could see it on her face. “Dudes are so weird.”Marty took offense, “How?”Jules said, “Men are obsessed with sex of all forms. Like I don’t think it’s possible for guys to ever have bad sex because I just assume they’re always into it.”I scoffed, “Not true.”Roni reassured, “And girls like sex just as much as guys do.”Marty made a so-so gesture, “Eh. Not true.”George and Roni both asked, “Why not?”I interrupted, “Well, Roni’s an exception. She has different views. She is one of those girls who doesn’t need an emotional connection to really have sex with someone.”Roni proudly stated, “And I never will, because I don’t believe in love or emotional connections or marriage-- But still, having an emotional connection or not having one doesn’t make sex better or worse.”Jules waved her hands, “Irrelevant. What I’m saying is, the fact that they can’t go a week without sticking their weird little weiners in something is unnatural.”Marty cracked up, “What are you talking about? That is the definition of natural! A man’s only purpose on this earth is to find something to eat and then find something to stick our weird little weiners in!” He pointed at Roni, “That’s what I’m saying!”Roni yelled back at him, “And what I’m saying is, how is that not a woman’s purpose just the same?!”“Because despite your progressive-sexually-liberated-anti-love-balls-out views and pussy-riot agenda, sex for girls is and always will be entirely different than it is for guys! That’s how it is! That’s what I’m saying! Girls may like sex as much as men. But they don’t need sex as much as men. That’s what I’m saying.” Marty was standing right in front of Roni at this point, all in her face.“Prove it. Give me one example to prove that guys and sexually-liberated women like me see sex differently. Make me believe that women need sex less than your average disgusting male,” Roni challenged, crossing her arms.Marty, without missing a beat asked her, “It’s like this... would you ever cut a small hole in and microwave a melon with the intention to masturbate with it?” Roni was about to reply when he held out his hand and added, “On a school night.”Jules inquired, “Did you do that?”He spun around and faced her, then hesitated, “...That’s beside the point.”I looked over to George who was just laughing maniacally down into his chest.“What’s so funny?” I asked him.He kept his head down, “He said a small hole.” Then he looked up and sighed, “Oh God, let’s talk about something else.”Marty sat on Roni’s lap and looked down at her, “It’s cool that you’re a nympho, Roni. But guy’s are just disgusting, it’s the truth.”She shoved him off her and he fell under the water. When he surfaced she splashed his face, “I am not a nympho. That’s such an archaic term. Like marriage.”Jules chimed in, “Marriage is archaic?”George took over, anti-marriage arguments were his forte, “Marriage is obsolete. It’s a system originally constructed to sell property and establish or maintain a social status. I don’t need to marry someone to bear my children, we’re overpopulated and I don’t run a farm so I don’t need their child labor. My dad isn’t part of a society in which I must marry a daughter of his business partner so both families can continue to make blood money. All of those were reasons we needed marriage back in the day but don’t now because we have government owned farms and WiFi.“Monogamy is archaic as well. Fifty-eight percent of married couples admit to having cheated or been cheated on. Polygamy was first included in the Quran as a religious practice of adopting your brother’s wife after he died in war so she wouldn’t fall into poverty, and the men of that religion are now ignoring that fact. They’re bending their own religion to negate the fact that it must be the widow of your brother just so they don’t have to be monogamous and can marry whoever they want! They are changing their religious practices they’ve dedicated their entire lives to for generations just to not be completely monogamous. There is no reason for marriage to be necessary and no excuse for why we’re not wired to be monogamous; It just isn’t and we just aren’t.”“But you do believe in love,” Jules reminded him. “You have to believe in marriage for love!”He shook his head, “Sorry, sweets. Eighteen percent of married couples admit to falling out of love after the twentieth year or worse, twenty percent of married couples admit to never have been in love in the first place. More women marry for money and stability than for love. And most men marry in hopes it will help them to maintain their faith but they still end up cheating.“Plus while we’re on the subject of faith; I’m Jewish. Do you know how many God damned pointless traditions there are in a Jewish wedding? Oh sure you get to be carried on a chair and break a cup while wearing a tiny hat, but it’s so pointless. It’s a bunch of meaningless metaphors. And a Christian wedding is no different. Oh what a beautiful white dress, that definitely assures your virginity to your judgemental family! Oh congratulations, you caught the bouquet! Will you get married next? Uh, I don’t know. But watch this overpriced wad of flowers die like all your hopes of finding true love. Oh you caught the garter belt? Really? You now own the weirdest piece lingerie in the world that was worn by your buddy’s new wife on the day she confirmed her faith and trust to him until she dies!? What now?!”He was yelling like a madman by this point while we all laughed but kind of uncomfortably, “I don’t get it! I just don’t! Hi, I love you! Put this ring of metal on your finger. It’s rare and expensive just like love and marriage! Put it on your finger, now! No not that one...” He lifted his ring finger to the sky, “THAT ONE SPECIFICALLY! It’s the universal finger designated to make sure people don’t hit on you and they know you’re my property! Lets sign a shit ton of forms and mail those to the government so they know we’re a unit and will be writing each other off in our taxes! Let’s opened a joint bank account and a cell phone plan so I can monitor your every move! Hop on my health care plan while you’re at it, sickness and health, am I right? And fuck your last name, take mine. Because back in the day I would have given your dad a goat and he would have given me you, then you would change your last name so you’re mine until we die at age thirty-five.”He tilted his head back and laughed, “I mean no wonder people were semi-pro marriage back then. They figured they’d marry at fifteen and die ten years later! So what could really be the big deal? Why are we still doing this? Marriage is archaic! It’s a dead art form full of pointless traditions! That’s what I’m saying!”Roni cracked up and Marty joined in. I laughed a little but mostly just stared at Jules who looked rightfully pissed off.She told George calmly after their laughter subsided, “I believe in all that stuff.”George sat next to her, “And you’re entitled to. Just for me, Jules, I don’t see a point.”“Jules,” I called. She and George looked at me. I smiled at her, “I believe in that stuff too. I’m on your side.”George smirked, “Of course you are, Sunshine.”Marty cleared his throat, “Let’s change the subject. So, prom season. That’s a thing. What’s up with that?”“Oh my God,” Jules perked up, “So John is going to get this most amazing tweed suit. He’s going to look so classic!”Roni had to go and try to crush Jules’ spirit again, “Prom is no different from weddings. It’s yet another pointless coming of age tradition. You pick the person you think you love. The girls spend weeks searching for the perfect dress, the perfect shoes, the perfect accessories...”“Not just that,” Offered George, “But the perfect hair, the right makeup...”“Plus,” added Marty, “Chicks wax everything from their nipples to their eyebrows and their assholes to their belly buttons.”“And we shave our toes,” Admitted Roni. Even Jules had to crack a smile at that, “And then you men just have to rent a tux that doesn’t hurt your nuts too much, shoes that don’t make you sweat too much, and then you return it when you’re done.”“Just like we do with our dates,” Marty sang. He leaned to George for a high five.Roni went on, “You take countless amounts of photos. You get in a limo. You have a big celebration. You dance all night and then you go get wasted at an after party. You wake up in a hotel, disheveled, sexed-out, and with a couple regrets.”I had taken enough, “Okay, I’m not the biggest fan of prom--”“Yeah, you took Sue Bishop last year,” Jules reminded me, “Didn’t she end up sleeping with Hugh Davies that night?”“Yes. But that’s not what I’m saying. I mean yeah it’s stupid. But it’s something you don’t forget. Like a wedding, it may not be the most logical or even relevant of celebrations, but it’s a milestone. It’s just something you do to say you did it. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” I shrugged, “It’s all about what you make of it.” I picked up my bottle of beer, “That’s what I’m saying.” And I sipped it in silence.
 
We laid on the pavement in the sun to dry off and warm up after that. Jules left, I heard her footsteps get up and run to her bag when John called her to tell her he was off from school. So she drove over to pick him up and bring him back over (But it took longer than usual I think they made a sex-detour). Then I heard heavier footsteps and I knew Marty had gotten up, probably to pee or something. And five seconds after that I heard the sounds of making out.My eyes were closed so I didn’t see anything. All I heard was making out and then, “Ron, come on.” And I knew what was happening.I heard making out again. Then, “Seriously, Roni.”It was quiet and I heard Roni’s voice, “He’s asleep, he hasn’t moved. He won't mind. This is what you guys do. And I’m your friend just as much as he is, how is it different?” She whispered. Then making out. During the making out all I could think about was that somehow I had come up in their conversation. George was concerned about my presence. Either for my sake or his I don’t know.Then I heard Roni’s low voice again, “It’s just sex.”Then I heard two sets of footsteps walk away. I was scared. So I didn’t open my eyes for a while. When I did, I sat up and looked around. I was all alone in my backyard. And then I heard Roni again. I heard her breathing turn into sighs, her sighs turn into moans, moans into squeals and cries of orgasm.I felt almost light headed. I got up and quickly walked inside. My heart was pounding, my face felt like it was on fire, I thought I was honestly going to die of heartbreak.
 
Then I thought I was going to die of shock. Because upon entering my house I saw George in the kitchen at the counter eating a sandwich.He must have seen how horrified I looked because he jumped up and ran to my side. “Dude, dude. You okay?”I stuttered, “I-I I thought you... What are you doing in here? I thought you were.” I pointed my thumb over my shoulder.
 
As I did so, George gave me a sideways glance. Just in the same moment, from the backyard came a chant of fast paced breathing followed by Roni’s voice, “Fuck me, Marty!”
 
I immediately fell onto the title and covered my face, “Holy shit.”George fell down too. He had gone red from laugher by the time I moved my hands from my face, “You thought that was me?! Didn’t you?” I nodded. “No, man. No.” He slapped his knee and laughed harder. “Oh your face. You would have lost it. I can’t imagine how scared you must have been.”“Scared? George, I was about to absolutely die. I was so confused and traumatized.” I covered my face again, “Oh my God.”George and I sat up. He wiped tears from his face, “I’d never fuck your girl, Bates.”I chortled, “My girl?”“I know Roni’s your girl, Bates. I wouldn’t do you like that,” he put a hand on his chest, “Cross my heart.” He got up, “I mean she wanted to but I’m not willing to. She and I had our time together. To have sex with her, even though it would be meaningless sex... it would bring back bad memories. I just want to be her friend. Even kissing her was too much, but it was absolutely nothing. You know that, right?”He held out a hand to help me up. I took it, “Yeah. I guess I could tell by the way you were kissing her in the pool.”“What about when we were laying out?” I gave him a look like I didn’t know what he was talking about, “I know what you look like when you’re asleep. You were not asleep out there, you heard it all.” He walked back to his plate of food and sat down, “Even that was nothing.”
 
I thought about what Roni told him. I thought about how she and I are both his best friends, how would kissing or having sex with her be different than kissing or having sex with me for George? I knew we were just friends and we were only having sex to have sex until we met our people, the one’s we’re supposed to be with. But I didn’t know if I agreed that it was absolutely meaningless.
 
I walked over and sat down next to him, “What about us, then?”“What about us?”I stared into his big green eyes, not entirely sure where I was going. But I went there. And I kissed him, I held his cheek in my hand and kissed him like he had kissed me when we first met. He held onto my wrist and kissed me back. Then I pulled away and looked right at him and asked, “Was that nothing?”He had fear in his eyes, “Bates...” He stared at my lips. He stared at my hand, holding his in my lap. Then he finally stared into my eyes that were looking into him. “I don’t know.” The sense of uncertainty and fear was palpable in his tone.I dropped his hand and scratched the back of my head, “Yeah I don’t either. Sorry. I guess there’s just a lot of blurred lines between our relationship, and your’s and Roni’s.”He nodded, “When it comes to relationships, I don’t see things in black and white. White being just friends, black being something more. With you and I, there are lots of shades of grey. I see you as someone in between being my best friend and someone I genuinely feel for.”
 
And in between us there was a heavy blur of silence. Because it always seems to get quiet just as you begin to fall in love.
 
After what felt like an infinity I rubbed my temples and told him, “Yeah I get that.” And then I just laughed, I was relieved to see him genuinely follow suit.He bit into his sandwich and then said to me, “You know Marty’s going to want to get back with her after this. He won’t be able to handle it.”I sighed, “Don’t I know it. So how did that even...?”“Oh well. Roni got off me. I got hungry. I made a sandwich and then she went to the side yard where Marty was taking a piss. So he already had his dick out. She probably fellated him and then he banged her brains out.”“Does she always...” I tried to word it correctly, “Say things? You know, like that?”He gave me a look like I should know, “Oh yeah. Ron’s a screamer.” He bit into his sandwich and told me with his mouth full, “So you’ve got a lot to look forward to. There’s something new every time.”“Why are you so sure that I’ll ever have sex with Roni?”He wiped his mouth and picked up his plate, “Because it’s inevitable,” he walked to the sink, “you can do anyone you set your mind to. That’s what I always say.”
 
My phone rang hours later on our drive to Daryl Hart’s house. I answered it and sushed everyone in the car and signaled for Roni to turn down the music. “Hi, mom.”She screamed from the other end, “Where are you!?”“Mom, I’m with Roni.”“You’ve been there all day?”“What?”She used her best mom voice, “I just got home from work and I have a message on the machine that says you missed school today. And I know I usually rush out of here in the mornings but I normally hear you getting ready and you were awfully quiet this morning. Where the hell have you been?!”I held the phone to my chest. “Roni, it’s yellow. Stop, you won’t make it.” She looked up from her iPod and slammed the brakes. I held the phone back up to my ear and tried not to smash my head against the glove compartment, “Mom. Roni had guy trouble last night. She called me at three AM, so desperate and heart broken. It was pathetic mom, I had to be there.” Roni punched me.“You snuck out of the house and walked to Veronica Steven’s house at three in the goddamn morning like some hobo? Like some streetwalker? Like some homeless prostitute?”“No... I was not a homeless tramp. That was you in high school not me,”“Hey,” she scolded, “It wasn’t my fault I had a dysfunctional family and a short skirts. You leave my past out of this.”“Roni picked me up. And she was so down on herself, mom. It’s taken me all day to get her on her feet. She’s finally eating, she’s not crying, we’ve got The Notebook on... it’s getting to the real healing now. I’ve got to go.”My mom took a deep breath, “Jonathan, it’s getting late. Please come home tonight.”“Mom, she’s my best friend. I promised her I’d stay the night.”She sighed, “We have plans for tennis in the morning, honey. Don’t make me cancel. You wake up at eight and get here by eight fifteen, do you understand?”I leaned back and sighed, I had entirely forgotten. “Yeah, I will.”“And take my car next time. I don’t want Veronica driving you. She worries me,” she said just as the light turned green and Roni floored it. “Wait. Jonathan, was that an engine?”I mouthed to Roni, “Slow down.” Then told my mom, “Yeah it’s a car chase scene.”“In The Notebook?”“Uhh... special... bonus footage.”George leaned forward from the backseat, “Your son has a huge dick!”Marty leaned in too, “Puff, puff, pass, Bates!”“Got to go, bye. Love you!” I hung up, turned around, and punched them both in their arms, “I fucking hate you two.” Roni turned up the music again and the two started to rap wildly in my face so I couldn’t abuse them further. I turned around and tried not to smile.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

APRIL
 
I know the exact date, April 12th, when I did the weirdest thing in my life. It’s strange how the weirdest things in your life have the most impact on your future. Because the normal stuff you do everyday, like brushing your teeth, the most impact that has on your life is in the future you have white teeth. But if you do something crazy like sneak backstage at a comedy show with your weirdest friend Marty Albert, your whole future gets rearranged for good.It started off he and I were just hanging out at my house watching old stand up specials I had in my collection. It was a good day, we just ate and lounged around and had a laugh.Then he asked me, “Would you want to come with me to The Sunset Room?” Which was our local comedy club.“I don’t even have a fake ID,” I said to him.And he wiped out a card like he was an FBI agent and threw it at my face. He’d made it with my school picture from the year before when I looked like even more of a fetus. But other than that it did look entirely passable.  “Consider it an early birthday present. Look, I have something I really need to tell you.” And I asked him what it was and he told me, “I’ve been doing stand up there for the last few months and I’m pretty sure it’s what I want to do. I’ve always been a fan, but now I think I’m really good. And you’re my only friend who really gets comedy and I want you to be the first one to see me.”I couldn’t believe it, “Marty that’s great. I’ve always said you should do something in comedy. Good for you. But are you sure you want me there?”“Yeah I do. Come on. You go see your lame deep boyfriend do poetry all the time. Come see your cool buddy do some jokes.”I leaned back into my couch, “George is not my boyfriend...” I looked at him, “But you have a point. Sure, I’d be happy to.”
 
So we left.I had thought it would be simple. I’d show the bouncer my fake ID. I’d sit at a table alone and drink a soda because I’d be too scared to order anything else. I’d watch Marty and a few other beginners tell mildly funny jokes then I’d go home.But this is not what happened.
 
I was sitting at my table, drinking a Fanta when Marty grabbed my by my arm and yanked me up. He dragged me through the tables and brought me to the side of the club. He leaned in and told me, “Okay. There was a specific lineup for tonight but it’s been fucked with. Someone showed up and they’re going on before me. So I’m bumped back,” he looked around. Then when he figured it was safe he pulled me through a door and we were backstage.I looked around and smiled, it was pretty cool. A bunch of rude looking guys and girls with walkie talkies were just sitting at card tables looking at notebooks and stuff.Marty pulled me to a small leather couch and we sat down, “Look...” And he nodded over my shoulder.I turned around and saw who he was motioning to then immediately gave myself whiplash turning back to him. A giant excited smile on my face, “Holy shit, is that Gregg Foreman?” Gregg Foreman was this indie comedian gone big time after the success of some cult films and a special on Comedy Central. He was a favorite of Marty and mine.He nodded, “THE Gregg Foreman. He’s in town and wants to try out some new material. And he’s going on before me.”“Gregg Foreman is going to open for you?”“Fuck no.” I stared at him, “You are.”“What? Marty I don’t do... this. I watch it,” I had a mild panic attack even though I knew I wouldn’t do it, “And that goes for everything. I don’t so stuff, I watch other people do stuff. That’s what I do. That’s like my thing.”“Hey! Listen to me, Jonathan... Something Bates.”I rolled my eyes, “James.”“What?”“James. My middle name is James. How are we even friends? You don’t know my middle name!”He got over excited, “Your name is J.J. Bates?!”I rubbed my forehead and looked down as I mumbled, “Junior.”He freaked out, “That’s a great name! People will go nuts over that name! That already sounds like a famous person’s name!”“A good name doesn’t mean people will think you do professional comedy. That makes no sense at all! I can’t do this!”“You understand it. You know the game. You have jokes, and opinions, and stories! You can do this.”“Marty! So can you! So do it!”“Fuck that, are you kidding me? I’d rather go out there and open the entire night by jerking off on stage than follow Gregg Fucking Foreman.” I couldn’t believe Marty. He and I always joked around and told funny stories or imitated other comedians but never in all my life had I thought, I got to go do some of that; And not just alone in my room in the mirror, but on a stage in front of judgemental adults who have just finished watching a seasoned veteran fucking kill. I was seventeen years old! Gregg Foreman paid taxes and had probably memorized his social security number and had sex with a woman; I had barely grasped any of those things yet. No way I could do what he did after he did what he did but in a funny way. How Marty expected me to handle my own out there, following my favorite comedian, I don’t know.And Gregg had people roaring. He killed it! His new material was edgy and I was and still am about as edgy as a beachball being bopped around at a Cheetah Girls concert. I am not a stand up guy, I’m a sit down and hide your embarrassing laugh guy. I’m a lay down guy! I’m a lay down and let people walk all over me guy.But I wasn’t going to let Marty walk all over me just so he didn’t have to follow Gregg Foreman. I wasn’t going to be a sit down guy, I was going to be a stand up guy and tell Marty, “You’re a manipulative jerk and I cannot do stand up.”
 
So Gregg closed with a bang and I followed him and did some stand up.I was standing there on the stage silent for a few minutes. There were more lights in my eyes than I expected. I snapped out of my initial shock of actually being on stage once I heard some dude sneeze.So I ended up opening with, “Bless you.”And then I attempted a joke. “So... look, I’ll be honest. I’m just as weirded out that I’m up here as you guys are. I wasn’t expecting it. Certainly not expecting to follow Gregg Foreman. How do you even...” No one was laughing. I mean I hadn’t said anything funny yet so that was understandable.I decided to just tell the truth. “I’m pretty pissed off actually. My friend Marty who I am opening for, you’re about to meet him, he told me to come out here and didn’t give me many options. I don’t know if you could tell by my boyish demeanor and overall childlike sense of naivety, I don’t have much experience in this. I don’t have much experience in anything. Like I still get nervous in grocery stores when I don’t find the bread aisle fast enough and I think I may have to actually talk to someone,” That got a few pity laughs, but that’s not what I wanted. No one ever wants pity.“So I’m not going to use this time to tell jokes or say anything prewritten and dance like an underprivileged circus monkey, monotonously spitting out false beliefs putting on an act to appease a crowd I don’t know but treat just like some old friend in hopes they’ll laugh and give me the acceptance my high school peers and father never did.” People started to laugh but I think it was out of discomfort really. Even I was a bit thrown off by the honesty.“So because I’m not a young self deprecating capitalist of the human psyche who desires to find humor in things like my own tragedy in the hopes of, for a few brief moments, making your shitty lives seem better and mine an even bigger, slightly funnier joke... I’m going to tell a story about Marty to get back at that manipulative asshole who kicked me out on this stage without so much as a knock knock joke on a popsicle stick to read off of. And hopefully he’ll never fucking do this again. So.” When I finally stopped talking I actually heard people laughing and really for the first time listening to my opinions. I was doing what George always did, but in my own way. In a way I was comfortable. I was saying how I felt and what I wanted. I wasn’t trying to prove myself or please anyone. I was growing.“So last month Marty and I went to a St. Patrick’s Day party. Now Marty and I are both white so we assume we have to be at least mildly Irish, just like every white person does on St. Patrick’s Day. And we thought if we were going to get alcohol poisoning, this would be the day to do so. Like if our livers turned green it would be considered festive and not a disgrace to our families. And we went to our friend Daryl Hart’s St. Patrick’s Day party.“We’re not from here, in Sunnyvale. We’re from Atherton... so we have it rough. Uh, for those of you not laughing at that I’ll assume you’ve never been to Atherton. The only way I can describe Atherton is: I imagine it’s what Donald Trump thinks about at climax. Like if we had all heard Hitler out... Just for a second. I think all the white people in the world would be living like the people in Atherton live.“I mean... I’ve seen my fair share of ridiculously lavish houses. But Daryl Hart’s takes the cake. Daryl Hart had a stained glass window depicting a religious scene. Like Jesus healing AIDs patients I think. And Marty found a pen and drew a dick on Jesus’ face. Marty also set up his DJ equipment on Daryl’s granite island counter in his kitchen. Daryl Hart had a door knob into this private office that was a diamond. I’m not talking like a perfectly cut Swarovski crystal. I mean a lump. It was like this dude pulled it from the earth two minutes ago. Or like it was laid like an egg by a unicorn on some planet that God likes better than ours. So this diamond lump was the door knob. I turned that doorknob, Marty and I enter the private office and he found this guy’s whiskey, chugged it, pissed in it, and then made peace with all those at the party he’d wronged by mixing them drinks. So it started off great.“Everyone had a red cup full of UPL’s, which is an abbreviation of my own design, it stands for unidentified party liquid. I use it as a lot of my excuses when people think I’m being an asshole. So we all had red cups. Except Marty. Marty had a crystal vase that he stole from the kitchen, when he was doing his aforementioned douchey DJ set. In the crystal vase he had poured four types of beer in and then made an Irish car bomb.“For those of you who don’t have liver cancer nor a clue what an Irish car bomb is... it’s a giant beer with a strong alcohol content, that you chug until you die but not before dropping an entire shot glass full of fuck it and regret into the glass or in Marty’s case... the expensive crystal vase. The problem with this was... Marty did not know what an Irish car bomb was. So after he dropped the two shots in, and began to chug everyone around him started chanting, ‘Car! Bomb! Car! Bomb!’“Marty has a slight hearing problem as a direct result from his not so slight drinking problem. When he’s drunk he only hears the second half of sentences. The second half of the sentence, ‘Car bomb’ is just bomb. So Marty got his lighter, light the alcohol floating in the vase on fire and threw it... At a house plant!“It spread pretty quick, I won't lie. It spread as a wise man Lil John would say ‘From da windows to da walls’. And I tried to help. I assessed the situation, in which I mean I stared at it laughing for a few seconds. Then I tried to remember chemistry, like what makes fire stop. Like is it a solid or a gas or an acid or a base? But I kept getting distracted by late 90’s hits.“I came to the conclusion... the word I was looking for was water. And once I had that I had two options. I could yell, ‘Water!’ or ‘Da roof! Da roof! Da roof is on fire!’ And I went with the second one.“I was super drunk so I don’t know what happened all I know is after that I was on the balcony and Marty was high as fuck.“Our friend George smoked him out just to see what he'd do. And what he did was get a bit paranoid. Marty cannot handle his shit for shit. He started freaking out about arson charges so he jumped off the balcony. It wasn’t a high balcony, I wish it had been. Then I wouldn’t even be here.“But alas, Marty Crane lived. We didn’t see him for a while after that night. I woke up in my friend Roni’s bed, we were cuddling. And I asked her, ‘Did we have sex last night?’“And she said, ‘No. You’re gay.’” People laughed pretty hard at that. I didn’t flatter myself by thinking it was from shock. I talked faster, to wrap it up and get the hell off the stage.“And I told her, ‘No I’m not that gay.’ And all of our friends in her house were like, ‘Where’s Marty? He jumped off the balcony? Is he dead? I kind of hope so...’ stuff like that. And we were looking for him everywhere.”I slowed down, “Then I got a call from a number I did not recognize. And I answered it. It was Marty. And I said, ‘Marty, where are you? We’re worried.’ I lied to him.” The audience was laughing quietly but also frequently which I thought was good.“And Marty said something I will never forget,” I did my best Hung-Over-Marty voice, “He said, ‘Uhh... I think... Idaho.’ And he was.“So we wired him some money, which was weird because I thought that was just something widows in the 1930’s did in movies. And he bought a train ticket home. Which is another thing I thought only widows in the 1930’s did in movies. The moral of the story is, if you do things widows in the 1930’s did in movies, like wire your asshole friend some money to take the train home when he’s stuck in Idaho, he will make you do unprepared stand up comedy.” And the whole audience laughed and I felt like a Goddamned king.I waved, “Thanks guys. I’m J.J. Bates. I’m never doing this again. Go fuck yourselves.” That was my closer. And it still is.
 
I left out the bit where I came crawling into my house at eight fifteen and my mom and I drove straight to tennis at the country club. I had to smile at the old ladies and try not to act like the room was still spinning. My mom kicked my ass for an hour on the courts.On the drive home she asked, “What’s worse? Losing to your thirty-six-year-old mother or having a deathly hangover?”I moaned, “You’re forty-two.”She hit me on top of my head and it felt like an Earthquake. She snapped at me, “Do not make me turn up the volume on this radio and give you an alcoholic's migraine. My dad was an alcoholic so I know how to piss someone off during a hangover and I know how to nurse one; So take your pick. Call me thirty-six and I’ll cook you an omelette, say I’m forty and I’ll blast eighties pop and swerve the shit out of this car.”I closed my eyes and sank down, “How could you tell I was hung over?”“Honey, I was in high school. I was young. I was hot. I partied. I don’t want you partying the way I did though, it was a different time. We didn’t know about diseases and predators--”“Or electricity.”“Oh that is it. You want to be a little shit,” she cranked up the eighties station, “I’ll play hard ball. No greasy brunch for you.” I whined. She ignored me, “You know you could have told me the truth. It was St. Patrick’s Day. I’m not an idiot. Plus...” She smiled at me.“What?” I croaked.She made her voice as deep as she could, “Puff, puff pass, Bates!” I covered my face, “Oh goodness. In my day it was no puff puff pass. It was puff puff keep puffing until you pass out. None of this sharing bullshit. Kids these days are too polite,” she realized she wasn’t sounding entirely motherly, “I mean. That’s a good thing.”
 
I threw the mic at Marty once I got off the stage, “You owe me.”Marty said with a giant grin, “No. No. No. The owner of this place owes you. You’re name’s going to be on the marquee someday, you funny asshole. I’m not even mad at you. I’m impressed. I hope I kill half as much as you did. Damn, you should have seen me my first time. And you didn’t even write anything!” He patted my shoulder, “You’re a natural. You’re gonna run this place someday.”
 
And I do. I own The Sunset Room now. Not that particular one, but after headlining there for a few years, when the owner expanded into LA he offered me the job and now I headline and hire new acts and pay the bills, but that’s now, I’m still talking about then. So let’s get back to it.
 
Marty went on stage and delivered a pandering narcissistic act like I figured he would and it killed in a major way because that’s what people love. I sat in the audience and I ordered a Jack and Coke with my fake ID and it worked. It wasn’t such a bad day after all.
 
That night I saw George do poetry at The Leaf Lounge. I surprised him and that really made him happy.He did a poem that he recited very slowly, “As I go on walking I look up and see. The moon is a dangerous machine. It hangs in the sky by a rope and it swings. Side to side like a hang man who’s diedAnd all of the stars, they weep as they fall. Take my heart and soul. Never let it go. Don’t leave a ransom note. It’s useless. No one else wants to do this. No one else wants me. So don’t try to pawn me. Take my heart and soul. Don’t ever let me go. And as we walk down Ransom Road. Know that we walk alone. No one wants a misfit. No one needs a half wit. Anyone else would just let me go. The moon is a dangerous machine. It hangs from the sky by a rope and it swings. Side to side like a hang man who’s died. It should never look so inviting. As I go on walking I look up and see. Only one bright star would ever weep for me.”
 
He walked off the stage, people clapped. He didn’t sit at the table. He just smiled at me, “Come on, Sunshine. Let’s go.”
 
He spent the night at my place. Much later in the evening we were still awake, laying in my bed. I felt him turn over and face me but I was still laying on my back looking at the ceiling but seeing nothing in the darkness.George kissed my cheek, “Talk to me,” he begged.“About what?”He didn’t say anything. Then whispered, “You haven’t talked in a while. I mean really talked. Come on, man. Tell me anything. I just want to hear something about you, please.”I rolled over to face him, but still just saw the night, “George, I don’t have a tragic backstory. I don’t have secrets. I’m just me.”“Tell me about you then.”“You know me.”“Not how you know me. I understand we’re different. That what I love. Please just talk to me,” there was desperation in his voice. I asked him why it was such a big deal to him. He sighed and confessed, “I would much rather listen to you talk than hear myself think.”I recalled what he told me in the dark. About how his spiraling usually starts at night, and how that makes him feel. I thought about what that spiraling makes him turn to. I cared about him and I never wanted him to feel that way. And I understood what he needed.So I just talked, “I have this... obsession. Or fantasy. It’s really weird but it oddly sums up what I want to do with myself.”“What do you mean?” He asked me, I couldn’t see it but I could hear the smile on his face.I smiled too, “I never knew what I wanted to be until today. I always knew I wanted to be... it’s so stupid.” He didn’t say anything. This was what we did, we’d be silent, so the other felt more at ease confessing. We felt like we were shouting into the void. I said, fearlessly, “I wanted to be Jimmy Fallon. I don’t know what that means. But ever since I was twelve, that was my plan.“I had a sleepover party when I turned twelve. And all the guys I invited were running all over the house, playing games, messing around, making food. And I was just letting it happen. I turned on the TV in our living room to find a scary movie or something, but I just turned it on to some weird news thing. I was getting ready to change it.“But I kept watching it and I realized it wasn’t normal news. It was a girl and a guy and they were being funny. It was funny news, like... I never knew that was possible. And I laughed at the jokes I got, and even the jokes I didn’t get because I could just tell by the way they were saying them what the gist of the joke was and why it was funny. I just liked the energy. I could feel their excitement as they told the punchlines and the audiences reactions when they got the joke... I never felt more connected with something. It was my freaking party and I was the weirdo on his own, watching weird news. Then I heard them sign off and I realized that the guy’s name was Jimmy Fallon. I told myself not to forget that name.“Then I realized it wasn’t just funny news. I saw Jimmy in funny little mini shows, you know, the sketches. I was so amazed I’d never seen this show before. There was music and humor and all the thing I liked. That particular episode was a repeat. And I spent the whole summer rewatching all the old episodes that aired.“My mom got me Jimmy’s CD and his Best Of DVD for my birthday. I watched and listened and I just tried to emulate him in every way I could. I just wanted to make other people as happy as Jimmy Fallon made me.”I started laughing, “God. I even memorized his audition tape for SNL. I wanted to make sure I did everything right that he did--”George interrupted, “Wait. You want to be on Saturday Night Live? I never knew that.”I laughed, “Well... you know like when you’re six and your family asks what you want to be when you grow up and you say a fire man? And then when you’re sixteen your family still thinks you want to be a fireman even though you haven’t thought about that in years. That’s what being on SNL is like for me with my family. I said that when I was twelve and my mom and all my aunts still think that’s what I’m going to do even though I’m not so sure now.”George nodded along, “I see. You don’t necessarily want to do everything Jimmy did, exactly how he did it. You just want to follow his footsteps.”I agreed, “Yeah.” He was right, “Everything I am now is a direct result from him. I watched the recent seasons of SNL and found new actors and new music to like. I listened to comedians that inspired Jimmy and everyone else on SNL. And then movies that other cast members wrote or were in. And that’s basically still where all my taste and humor and interests lie. It all stemmed from him. I don’t know who I’d be if it weren’t for him. I don’t know who I’d want to be.”George asked, “So you want to be a comedian?”I shrugged, “That was the thing. I never wanted to be a comedian, I just wanted to be him. I just wanted to have fun, make people smile, that sort of thing. But you can’t be a person... You just have to be the kind of person they’d want to hang out with. You have to be the kind of person that they’d smile when you said, ‘I want to be you when I grow up.’ I told him that.”George sat up a bit, “What? Like on the internet?”“No I met him once. I never told you? I dragged Roni to a thing he had going on in LA  sophomore year. She’d just gotten her license and we snuck down one weekend. Got in a hell of a lot of trouble but it was worth it because I got to tell him that. And he smiled so... I think I’m half way there.”George chuckled, “What’s all the way there? Hanging out with him?”I shrugged, “Well he’s got his show now. For me, ‘making it’ is to be on his show. I want to do something that will make him want to interview me or something.”“Like comedy?” George asked.“Maybe.”He put his arm around my middle, “I’ve always believed in you. You’ll get there. I know you will, babe.” I liked feeling George that close to me, “Tell me some of your favorite jokes of his.”And I let George lay close to me and I sang him every word of  “Idiot Boyfriend” until he finally fell asleep.
 
A week or so later, Roni and I were walking to class when a group of girls Roni used to be pretty close friends with walked passed.The one who looked bitchiest of all of them smiled at Roni as we passed them and sang, “Hey, slut. Try not to suck off the entire football team on your way to class, kay?”Roni sucked her teeth and turned on her heal. I kept walking but when I realized Roni was no longer by my side I whipped around too.Roni started the girl down, “And if I do?”The group stopped, not expecting Roni to reply. They turned back around also. “Excuse me?” The girl asked.Roni stepped closer and very calmly repeated, “And what if I do?” They didn’t respond, “I know none of you are dating any of them. What business of yours would it be if I did anything with anyone on the football team, or anyone else in this school for that matter?” The serenity in Roni’s voice was bone chilling, “What effect will it have on your lives if I have sex or not? I’m not sorry for having sex, I’m sorry that the media has built the idea of sex up so much that you can’t even swallow it without feeling dirty. I’m sorry that women have to feel guilty about having too much sex and lame for not having enough. It’s like you’re damned if you do you’re a prude if you don’t.”One of the girls spoke up, “It doesn’t matter if you do or not. You still dress like that to get guys’ attention.”She looked over her own outfit then back at them. “The day I dress for a man, is the day I put on my funeral dress and go see the Lord. I’m sorry you have to shame me in order to feel like a saint, because avidly deleting your search history still isn’t doing enough to clear your conscience.” The girls just stared. “What I do with my body is my business. If I want to fuck the football team I will. And they will let me.”Roni faced me again and stormed off passed me. I watched the girls as they stared at her from behind, bitch facing her, because there was nothing they could say. When they stalked off I turned back and chased after Roni, calling her name. But she never slowed down.When I caught up to her I touched her shoulder but she shrugged me off, “Leave me alone.” She was crying. I could hear it in her voice. It shocked me. But I realized that even the loud spoken tall standing people can fall down and feel small.
 
The final bell rang and I saw her duck into the girl’s bathroom. I looked around, opened the bathroom door and poked my head inside. It was clear of all females, so I let myself in.I saw Roni’s feet at the bottom of the stall door next to her pile of books. I could hear her muffled sobs as she cried into her hands. I sat on the floor next to the door and didn’t talk for the first fifteen minutes.After those minutes passed I said, “Who cares about them anyways?” She said nothing, just cried more. More minutes passed, “You’re right. They shouldn’t concern themselves with what you chose to do. It’s your life. They’re just jealous.” Nothing. Just crying.
 
It was breaking my heart, hearing the woman I loved being so down. I couldn’t imagine what she was telling herself in her head, or what she was facing. She kept crying. Every now and then she’d stop and just sniff a little but eventually she’d start to sob again.It wasn’t even those wails of despair like in the movies, it was just those little heart breaking pitter-patter of tears on the ground and deep shaking breaths.
 
“Roni, it will be okay.”“Go away, Bates,” she finally spoke. It was so quiet and warped, her vocal chords were so shot out from the jerkiness of her breathing in between her sobs.It didn’t matter to me what she said, what mattered was she had said anything at all. I sat in silence for a few more minutes. Each time someone tried to come in I waved violently for them to fuck off.More time passed. “I think you’re right about everything. Fuck them.” I said cheerfully, “Fuck those girls and fuck any guy you want.” In my head I added, “Like me, for instance.”She sobbed, “Just. Go. Away.”I nodded and bit my lip. I tried not to speak again. More time passed and I checked my watch. Class was about to be let out and girls would be flooding the bathroom, I’d be forced out. So I said to her, “Roni... I’m going to go. But I need to tell you,” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, “You’re going to be okay. You’re my best friend. And I look up to you,” I took another deep breath and got ready to finally say it, “You’re so strong. You’re so beautiful, Roni. I love you.” I heard her sob harder. It sucked. I closed my eyes, “I love you so much. You don’t deserve to be hurt like this.”It wasn’t the way I wanted to say it. It wasn’t said the way I meant. I had meant to tell her I was in love with her, but that wasn’t what she needed to hear.It’s strange how we can give different I love you’s depending on which kind is needed. Sometimes we hear the I love you’s we think we need to hear. And we only believe the I love you’s we feel we’re worthy of. Choosing not to believe others when they tell us they love us, or not believing ourselves when we tell ourselves we love someone is how we end up hurt or hurting others.Roni didn’t hurt me by rejecting my I love you like that because I was just glad that she accepted my I love you plain and simple. The one she needed.
 
I stood up off the ground, my butt was numb and my legs were sore. “I’ve got to go, the bell’s going to ring. I don’t want people calling me a perv. I’d rather not get sent home for perving around like George did in third grade so. I’ll see you later.”
 
And I did. And she was okay. She smiled, and I couldn’t tell if it was fake or not. So she nailed it.

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

MAYRoni and I had an even better relationship after that. She climbed in my window when I was with my mom most week nights. She stopped by and had dinner with my dad and I on weekends. She watched TV with me and I listened to music with her. She cried on my shoulder and then I’d make her laugh. So many times I came close to telling her the truth, that I was in love with her. But I had to be sure it was the right time, I didn’t want to ruin the great balance she and I had. We were perfect right there in between.Meanwhile I was getting all my sexual frustration out with George. He and I were better than ever too with our own beautiful balance of in between. We played Galaxy Conquest 6 on co-op mode and overtook sixty-two percent of the free universe. We talked in the dark about everything and anything and it all stayed there, just as it always did. I had dinner with his dad and Mel. He had dinner with my mom and Lance. He played music and I listened. I did homework and he helped me. I saw him do poetry at the Leaf Lounge and he even came and saw me do some stand up at the Sunset Room. It wasn’t after a while that I realized he hadn’t called me in a long time to tell me he’d hooked up with or had sex with someone because we were almost always together. And we were having quite a lot of sex with each other, like really great sex. Sex where we’d laugh. Sex where we’d scream. Even sex where we wouldn’t say anything.And all three of us would hang out together; Our holy trinity, myself, George and Roni. And we’d McFly around town, hang out at restaurants, loiter in grocery stores, shop in thrift shops, and go to parties.Our ragtag team of buddies was pretty tightly knit too. Jules and John still fought but made up twice as fast with the ever approaching threat of the two being torn away when college struck looming over them. Marty and Roni occasionally did it, but it was rare and usually alcohol induced. We all went to parties, movies, and the occasional concert. We were enjoying what we often avoided thinking about as our final moments.This was from mid-April to about mid-May. Then prom was just a week away.I knew I was going to ask Roni. Every guy would be too scared to do so or just assume she was so Goddamn beautiful she would have been taken. And I was going to ask her, no matter what I felt in my gut. I was at my locker psyching myself up for it for a few minutes. It was still morning, we were at break and I was heading for the spot where usually my friends and I met up; Toward the center of the quad out front the school, I marched forth.I came around the corner where my locker was and I saw Roni standing there. I would have done anything to have that moment preserved, to have her just standing there, watching me walk toward her with so much excitement and love in her eyes. I didn’t know why she was looking at me like that as I slowly headed toward her rehearsing how I was going to ask her in my head over and over and over again. I assumed she just knew. But I assumed wrong.She was smiling too big, her eyes were too bright. Her hands were clasped together too close to her face and she was jumping up and down slightly. This was not the Roni I’d come to know so well over the years. Not dark Roni, not anti-romance Roni. She knew something I didn’t. She knew what George was up to.I got about five feet away from Roni when I heard loud music begin to blare from behind me. I turned back, looking at where I’d come from, but closer to the other side of the building where the library was. And I saw what Roni was so excited about. It was singing, smiling a stupid smile, in two different shoes, wearing a Judd Nelson coat.There was a line of five people moving rhythmically behind George who was seated behind a keyboard, playing a synthy hypnotic tune. Then he leaned into a mic and his soulful, joyous voice came over the speaker system:“This may seem hypocritical. I’ll admit at times I’m cynical. And insane to the point of criminal. But I’m not trying to be satirical. Or even add some dark subliminal messages. What I’m asking is...” The line of people behind him began to clap to the beat. Roni started laughing, it was then I realized of the five people three where John, Jules, and Marty. The other two were from George’s choir class.George sang louder as the tempo broke down, “Bates, I promise prom is stupid. I know that I will lose it. It’s the undisputed reason I’ll shoot cupid if I’m forced to go get suited. But with you I think it could be done. And that I may overcome. My own hipsterish beliefs of why I think that prom’s dumb. I may even have fun. Bates,” he screamed, “You’re making me sound dumb!” I shook my head and laughed. Everyone and their mother was staring at me, “I don’t know if you’ve heard. But, babe, you rock my world. So I have to ask. I’ll keep it to one word. I swear it won’t take long. I know this song is long, its a ticking time bomb. I’ll just say it, Bates?” And the first four people behind him each lifted up a letter, the fifth held a question mark. It spelled, “PROM?”It was so silent you could hear the homophobes vomiting in the bathrooms at the Chick Fil A across the street. I couldn’t stop my naturally spreading smile. I didn’t know what to do. I just gave him the middle finger.In two split seconds George grabbed the mic in one hand, jumped up and thrusted up his other fist and screamed, “HE SAID YES!” And everyone cheered. “Do you know how many girls are jealous of you?” Asked Jules as we walked to the parking lot.I chuckled, “Yeah... Maya is not handling it well I heard. Especially since Kirby and her aren’t together anymore. But I’ve gotten a few harsh glares from other girls too.”Roni shoved me, “Let them glare.”“I’ll be honest Roni, I was going to ask you.” I admitted.“Really?” She and Jules both gasped.“Yeah. I thought George would have his pick of the lot and you’d protest the whole thing. And I assumed I’d have to drag you kicking and screaming, but yeah, I wanted to make sure you had someone to go with.”She waved me off, “If I go, I’ll go stag.”“You have to buy a ticket with someone, they only sell in pairs,” Jules reminded.Roni shrugged, “I’d just grab the nearest dweeb and make him stand in line with me. I wouldn’t have to go with the bastard and blow him later that night.”“Do you have to blow the person you go to prom with?” I asked her, suddenly wondering if it were possible for me to still take her.She laughed, “Don’t get so nervous. It’s not like you haven’t blown George before.” I rolled my eyes and she punched me. “Well now you have to do it.”“Do what?” I wondered, “Blow George?”We got to her car and she unlocked the door. She shook her head at me, “No.” I raised my eyebrows. She raised hers right back at me, “Come out to your parents.”I had totally forgotten.I brought it up at dinner that night. My mom was clearing Lance’s plate when I asked, “Hey can I borrow eighty bucks?”She chortled, “No.”“But it’s for my prom ticket.”Lance stretched back in his chair and muttered under his breath, “Is that what they’re calling drugs these days?” I flicked a piece of food at him.She stopped on her way to the sink, “You’re going to your senior prom?!” She squealed. “Really?!”I nodded. “Yeah, really.”“Yeah?” Lance asked in shock, “Who’s the lucky guy?” Then he tilted his head back and laughed like a maniac.“Oh, Lance. Behave. Who did you ask, honey?”I took an awkward bite, “Actually... Lance had it right. I didn’t ask anyone. I’m just buying my ticket with George. He and I are going stag and they only sell the tickets in two’s. So can I borrow eighty bucks?”My mom washed her and Lance’s plates off, “You know how much prom was when I was your age? Twenty bucks.”“Mom, you lived in the streets of Atlanta. Your prom was in a barn.”“I know that honey, but still. We got down at those proms. They were incredible. I went with a boy I thought I was in love with and we danced the night away. I had such great moves. My ass was so nice back then. I had the best ass in the whole school. I did not work my ass off getting this house to piss money down the toilet for a dance that you’re not even going to with a girl you care about.”I pushed my plate away, “Mom, do you expect me to fall in love with someone in a week?”“Well not in love. Just at least with someone you can buy a corsage for and I can take pictures of...” she began to fantasize. “Someone with a great ass.” Meh, I thought, George’s isn’t half bad.Lance added, “Someone who can put in for a motel room to put out in,” he nudged me.“Lance! Don’t be a dick! Jonathan, if I buy this ticket you have to promise me you’ll have the time of your life! You’ve got to have that Bill and Jenny song playing in your head the whole night. Or else I’ll ask the school for a refund, I swear to God.”“No one’s doubting you won’t,” Lance confirmed.“Excuse me? I got this house from saving us money by using coupons and asking for refunds. You pay for HBO by ruining marriages.”“Yours and mine included, sweetheart,” he reminded her.“Lance, I am getting so sick of your shit.”I got up from the table, “I’m done. Thanks for dinner. Eighty bucks, don’t forget!” And I ran upstairs. It wasn’t coming out, but it was as good as it was going to get. The next day we were getting our tests passed back at the beginning of psychology. I sat behind Marty. Roni sat a few seats over from him. George wasn’t far away either, but it was more difficult to talk to him. Jules and John were on opposite sides of the room from us, always making either googly eyes, sad eyes, or angry eyes depending on the day of the week.As soon as Mr. U began to pass the tests back Roni slumped in her seat, “I’m fucked. I fucked that test up. I had like four A’s in a row. I’m fucked.”Marty sighed, slouching over too, “Same. I majorly bombed,” he looked at her, “We can be fuck buddies.” I stared at him, then at Roni, then back at Marty who suddenly realized what he said, “I didn’t notice... how I said that until it was half way out.”The news of George and I going to prom together spread through the school fast. It was always just rumored that we’d been having casual sex all year. Not everyone believes rumors. But our going to prom together confirmed all the rumors and people started to talk a lot.Not everyone was thrilled, I’ll say that. I mean, George was ridiculously popular. Not a single person could honestly say they hated him. He was filthy fucking rich, threw great parties, had great drugs, great hair, cool parents, gorgeous eyes, unequivocal talent, irresistible charm, and was incredible in bed, who wouldn’t want to be his friend? No one could afford to hate George, their stock would plummet. So when they found out he’d chosen me out of everyone else in the school, it was a bit of a shock to people. I mean because I was friends with John and Roni, I was I guess a bit well known if not slightly popular too. But George honestly could have asked any guy and any girl in the school regardless of sexual preference and they’d say yes. Not even exaggerating.But there were lots who didn’t approve of his choice; Not just because I wasn’t “cool enough” for him but because we were both guys. One of these people was Katherine. She was in our psychology class and she had been giving me the stink eye most of the class period.Mr. U caught me staring at her, “Mr. Bates?” I snapped out of it. “Would you agree that the bio-psychological approach to treating mental illnesses is the way of the future?”I hadn’t been paying attention to the lecture at all so I just said, “Uh... yes?”He nodded, “Could you say that with more confidence?”I shrugged, “Hell yes?” Mr. U nodded and the class laughed a little.Then Katherine raised her hand. Mr. U called on her, “Yes? Katherine?”She lowered her hand and asked him, “Is it true that homosexuality was once in the DSM-IV labeled as a mental illness?”There was a strange shift in the room, mostly toward George and I, sitting not but four desks apart. Mr. U scratched his chin, “Well not the DSM-IV, but a previous edition of the book... I’d say one of the numbers between one and three, yes did have homosexuality listed as a mental illness. It’s a bit off topic, but a teacher should always be grateful for questions. So thank you.”Katherine shook her head, “I don’t think it’s entirely off topic.” She shot me one last stink eye, “I think we’re too open these days.”“Too open?” Repeated a voice I knew too well. The entire class turned to George, knowing this Katherine chick had just opened a can of worms. George was going to use those worms to bait his hook of charm, cast his line of one-liners into the lake of existentialism, and catch a big giant fish of progressive views, and grill it on the barbeque of Fuck-You.Katherine looked him dead on, “Yes. Young people these days abuse the fact that we are so accepting to various orientations, and use it as an excuse to be promiscuous.”“So you don’t think homosexuality is a mental illness?” He confirmed like a lawyer, “You think promiscuity is. And homosexuality is a result of a much larger issue at hand here. Issues such as sex addiction and nymphomania?” Katherine was silent, “Listen honey, according to the standards set back when homosexuality was labeled a mental illness; We’re all nymphos. I’m willing to bet you’ve got a cellphone and on this cellphone you have a few pictures of celebrities like Jude Law or something, pictures that in those times to which you’re referring, people would consider to be pornographic. Making you a sexcrazed psychopath. But you’re not a homosexual, are you Katherine?”“No, I am not.”He waved a hand, “There you go. I don’t think kids are using our accepting society as an excuse to sleep around. You can sleep around just as much within one gender, you don’t seem to be having any issues with straight people doing just that.”Katherine sat still and crossed her arms. George raised his hand, “Mr. U? Permission to tangent?”Mr. U leaned against his desk, “I have no problem with debate. Keep it G-Rated.”George lowered his hand and faced Katherine again, “Yeah, no promises. So listen, Kathy.” He winked, “Mind if I call you Kathy?”“Yes.”“Okay, Kathy, so here’s the deal. I know it’s not really a secret that I’ve been known to be attracted to girls and guys. Right?” A few people around him nodded, “Now most people would label me as bi-sexual. Many people who share my feelings would label themselves as bi-sexual. I don’t like that. I hate that. Because you said homosexuality is a mental illness and an excuse to sleep around. Well doll face, I have got some news for you: There’s so much more out there in the big bad world other than homosexuality. We’ve got the bi-sexuals, the pan-sexuals, the demi-sexuals, trans-sexuals, A-sexuals, grey-sexuals; It’s a bit overwhelming. Which is why I don’t like any of them.“Look, if you identify with any of those labels, I’ve got no problem with you. I just have a problem with the fact we’ve got to label ourselves at all! In my eyes, if you’ve found someone to have sex with, good on you mate, have fun, I could care less. Your sexual preference in no way attributes to your sexual activity.“However there are sometimes I think we need labels. I think the only sexuality labels we need are Pedophiles, Dog-Rapists, and Assholes. Pedophiles have sex with children. Dog-Rapists have sex with animals... doesn’t necessarily have to be dogs. And Assholes are anyone who has sex with someone of any gender who does not consent to it, either because they don’t want to or are physically unable to express their desires to have or not have sex. It’s as simple as that. Because the only time we should concern ourselves with who people are choosing to have sex with is when the people they choose are children, animals, or people who do not consent. Otherwise I don’t think we should give two...” He looked at Mr. U, “Uh... poops. I don’t think any sexuality or sexual preference is a mental illness. I think people are hot, and I don’t let gender or the fear of being labeled as a slut, homo, psycho, or anything else stop me from thinking that.” He looked at me, “That’s what I’m saying.” My phone rang as I was putting my tie on. I hit speaker and continued to tie it as I looked in the mirror, “Yo, dude.”“Let’s play a game...”“Oh shit.”I heard rumbling in the background, “Let’s play ‘Where’s George?’ You’re never going to get it.”I laughed, “Yeah fuckface. I never will. You realize this is a pointless game, right? I never actually guess where George is. I just ask and then George tells me.” I heard nothing, just rumbling. I sighed, “Where’s George?”“Buck-ass nude, about to take a shower. Just for you and your precious prom, babe.”“Wow. Please tell me you do shower regularly though...” I begged.“Oh I do,” he sang in a deep voice, “But this is no ordinary shower! It’s the shower in the guest room! With two lovely showerheads for dual action sudsing! I’m going to get myself real squeaky; I’ll sound like a rubber duck when we’re dancing. We’ll shake mountains!”I finished getting my tie on and picked up the phone, “I’m dressed, you’re behind. Hurry up.”“Let’s play a game...”I pinched the bridge of my nose, “Where the fuck is George?”“In the shower, so I’ve got to hang up. Technology and water does not mix. I learned that on Bill Nye.” He hung upThe day of my senior prom I wore a navy suit with a silver tie. It was pretty skinny, so were my pants. I don’t know why I had such a fear of wearing pants in those days unless they were at least two sizes too tight. I also wore Converse because I owned no good shoes and my mom had a thing about me renting something where other people put their feet. She smiled and took a bunch of pictures of me at home before we drove to George’s to take even more pictures.She hugged me really tight, “I know you won’t want me doing this in front of your friends so I’ll have my moment now.”She hugged me tighter into her and I managed to get out a muffled, “Mom, stop it.”She refused, “No. My baby’s going to his senior prom.” She let me go but held onto my face, “Lance, doesn’t he look so handsome? Oh, the girls are going to be all over you. My son... going solo.”Lance laughed, “What a dog.”“Lance! Stop it. Don’t make a mother think those things,” then she looked harshly at me, “If you have sex tonight don’t you dare do it with some girl who has a date who can hurt you, or with more than one girl—you’ll end up hurting both of them. And just for the love of God be safe.”I didn’t look her in the eye, “That’s not what’s going to happen, mom.”“I just worry with you and George. You two are such a pair. Two regular lady-killers,” she said, fixing my hair, “He’s got the charm and you’ve got the looks.”I headed for the door, “He’s got both, and then some. I’ve got the... half-assed one-liners.”She followed me out, “Don’t be so negative about yourself! You’ve got so much to be confident about. Lance, I’ll be back soon! Jonathan, did you say goodbye to Lance?”I turned back around. He raised his hand at me, “Later.”“Yeah.”“Don’t come home drunk, or with your virginity.”“Ha, ha,” I replied as I shut the door, “Asshole.”“Jonathan!” My mom yelled as she unlocked the car. We got to George’s place just in time to catch Jules and John fighting in John’s car. He was going to drive us all to Marty’s, where a party bus would take us and thirty other kids to where prom was being held. Marty ended up asking Roni and she said yes, so that worked out pretty well. I was worried about who Marty would take because besides Roni, he always had horrible taste in women. Example: He dated Katherine our freshman year.My mom went inside to chat with George’s dad and Mel. I walked over to John’s car.Inside Jules was screaming, “I hate it when you talk about my mother like that. She means well.”John scoffed, “She means to be a judgmental bitch.”“Do not call my mother a bitch, John. She is not a bitch, she’s honest. Unlike some passive aggressive bitches, like your mother. You’re mom’s the bitch! That fucking tiger-mom! She never approved of me.”John screamed, “My mom is BLACK!”Jules screamed back, “Well she’s married to a fucking sushi chef, she’s trying too damn hard to play the part!”John went ballistic, laughing and yelling at the same time, “Sushi is Japanese! My dad’s a stockbroker from Hong Kong! You stupid bitch!”Jules slapped him, “How dare you call me that! On today of all days! You know how important this is for me!”John rubbed his face, “I’m... I’m sorry.”“No you’re not.”I knocked on the window, “I agree with Jules.”I thought I saw steam coming from John’s ears when he saw me, “This doesn’t concern you, Other John. Get out of it!”I shrugged and put my hands in my pockets, “Look, you’re fighting in public. It’s a public conversation. I’m just trying to help.”Jules looked at me, her angry face vanished and she smiled. Joy in her tone, she beamed at me, “Oh my word. Bates! You look hot!”“Thanks, Jules. You look way hot too.”John leaned over, “Don’t be thinking of her like that. Hell, don’t even look at her like that, with your bitch ass smug smile. Get out of here.” I stepped back and lifted my hands in surrender.Jules smiled back at John, “Angel baby... you do care.”He held her face in his hands, “Of course I do. This is... one of the last things we’ll do together as a high school couple before we...”She put a finger on his lips, “Don’t say it. Let’s live in today.”He leaned in to kiss her, “Tomorrow can wait.”“I love you.”“I love you,” then the fierce make-up make out session began.I looked around awkwardly, “Okay well... I’m going to go see if George is ready so...” Jules’ seat reclined back and they fell out of my view, “And you don’t care. Sweet.”I snuck passed the sitting room where my mom and Mel were and ran up the stairs. I was walking down the hall nearing George’s room when his door opened. I had to stop in my tracks and take a breath. “Holy shit.”George looked up as he closed his bedroom door, “What?”“George...” I started slowly, taking it all in. He was in a three piece burgundy suit. He had black button down shirt and a silver tie that matched mine, but his had a tiny Dead Milkmen pin on it. His hair was combed back on the sides. “You look incredible.”He smiled, narrowing his eyes and stepping closer to me, “You sound so surprised by it.” There was something different in his tone, the way he said it.I confessed, “I thought you’d wear a powder blue tux from the seventies or overalls or some kind of electric orange taffeta suit to protest the psychotic social norm of elegantly dressing for a pointless school function. You know, something nonconformist and edgy to take a stance on not being another mindless sheep in the herd being led by the shepherds of fashion magazines into a pen of self-loathing and lowered self-esteem to assure their profits.”He laughed, “Well as much as I disagree with fashion magazines capitalizing and cashing in on a high school student’s desperate need to follow trends this time of year to appease some pointless coming of age tradition,” he rolled his eyes then looked right at me, “You don’t agree with that. You like this stuff, so... I’m making an effort.”“That’s so...” I shook my head, “Out of character.” He shoved me a little. “So you’re not going to be an annoying, deep, edgy, hipster tonight, like this is some John Hughes film?”“Well a hipster, tonight, no I will not be,” he raised a finger, “But despite my appearance at this pointless function, I remain now and will always be... a duckman,” he pointed his finger down to his feet. I watched his feet dance slightly in one white dress shoe and one black one. I stared at them, laughing. Until he took my chin lightly in one hand and tilted my head up. He kissed me very softly on the lips. We barely parted before he told me, “You look incredible too.”George honestly took my breath away. I just stared at him.After a few seconds he asked, “Did you shave?” He gave me a quick peck again, “You definitely shaved.”“Shut the fuck up,” I denied. I gave him a quick kiss. Then pulled away, “You shaved.”“Did we both shave?”“So you admit you shaved?” He didn’t say anything because I’d trapped him, “Ha. So you are taking this seriously. And not just with the stuffy outfit. Okay...”“Fuck you.” He touched my cheek, then his own, “Well we both usually have a bit of growth. Usually if one of us shaves the other doesn’t so there’s at least stubble on one side.” “So this is just like... mega hairless ultra-shave? Double non-scruff stuff?”He rubbed his thumb above my lip then pulled away, “Bleh, it’s weird. It’s like our faces are naked.”I laughed, “Okay so now we have to start alerting each other when we’re going to shave so we don’t do it on the same day?”“Yes.”“Ha, okay.”We started walking down the hall, “So how short is Jules’ dress?” He asked me.“I didn’t get a good look.”“Damn,” he sighed, “I need fair warning. I can’t have another homecoming situation.”“Don’t I know it. Truth though, that night, my dick almost fell out of my butt. I didn’t even know they made dresses that tight.”He scoffed, “I didn’t know Jules’ parent’s made Jules’ ass that tight. John almost killed me for staring at her,” he recalled with a subtle smirk. “He almost killed me today just for complimenting her. Her face looked good, real professional-model-like. I didn’t get a closer look at her dress though. They were in the car when I got here.”He raised an eyebrow, “Fighting?” I shook my head as we headed down the stairs. “Making out?” He asked. I gave him a look. “Oooh. Both. Classic them.”“Yeah. We haven’t fought,” I realized.“Classic us,” he reasoned.“Is that good or bad?”He shrugged, “I don’t know. Do you wanna fight about it?”I tried not to laugh, “I’m not saying I want to fight, mother fucker. I’m just saying we don’t fight.”He thought a bit more about it as we hit the last steps, “No we fight. We fight about stupid stuff, but we fight. We have disagreements.”“Yeah, George. I disagree with almost everything you say,” I reminded him, “We’re pretty opposite.”“Yes but I can be pretty convincing and you can be a bit of a doormat.” My jaw dropped and he slapped the bottom of my chin to close it, “Not a bad thing. You’re open minded. I dig it. I like that we’re different. In fact I love it,” he was about to say something else when Mel and my mom came rushing in snapping pictures.“There they are!” Yelled Mel.“Our little men. Our lady-killers!” Squealed my mom.George’s dad came in, “Well, Lisa, don’t make them sound like Jack The Ripper’s prodigies.”George smiled, “Ooh, great name for a band,” He put his arm over my shoulder, “Mrs. Waters, be sure to get our good side.”“I don’t have a good side,” I reminded him. My mom looked annoyed that I’d said that.George took his arm off my shoulder, “That’s right I forgot. You’re all good sides,” he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, “You’re 365 degrees of good side. Check him out, ladies.”I stopped spinning and punched him. My mom laughed, “Thank you George. We’ve got to work on his confidence.”“Don’t worry, Mrs. Waters. I give him plenty of praise. Your son, hashtag, can get it.”I heard John’s voice as he entered the foyer from the kitchen, “Did you just use hashtag out loud in a conversation?”“Yeah man, what are you gonna do about it?”Jules followed him, “Call the indie police to come and steal you hipster license. Or are licenses too mainstream?”I added, “Yeah it’s a certificate. Signed by Kimya Dawson herself.”George ignored our insults and hugged Jules, “Dang, homie! You look great!” She was in a peach dress that poofed out on the sides, it was very girly, very Jules. My penis stayed attached to my body.John watched their hug and after three exact seconds he said, “Alright, I think y’all are good.”They separated and George smirked at Jules and gave her a finger gun, “Give me that smile,” he asked. She put her hands under her chin and grinned. “There it is.” He looked over John again, “Oh and it’s the infamous tweed suit I’ve heard so much about,” he turned to me, “Because Jules won’t shut up about it.”We all stood in a line so the adults could keep taking pictures. Jules stepped on George’s foot, “Hey. He’s going to be prom king. I have to make sure he looks good.”“Eh,” I said involuntarily. They all turned to me like I was insane, “What if he’s not prom king?”“You think everyone will vote for the wrong John and you’ll win?” Asked John.I rolled my eyes, “No one even knows John is my name! And there’s no way I’d win prom king. I was thinking...” I looked at George. He nearly gagged. “But I know you’re against the thing.”“Yes I am entirely against what is ultimately a popularity and looks contest that no one wins based on their involvement in the community or contributions to math, art or science. I don’t believe in crowning a king or queen of our school whose first decree is for everyone to feel worse about themselves—”We all groaned. I reminded George, “You promised. No deepness or edginess or anything that will make you the random side character in our teenage feel good flick.”He whined and we posed for more pictures.Then we drove to Marty’s to pose for even more pictures. He and Roni looked good, he got her a corsage and bought himself a boutonniere for her to pin on him since he assumed correctly she wouldn’t even know where they sold flowers.I told Roni as soon as I saw her and hugged her, “You look absolutely gorgeous.” She shied away, “Yeah... leave it to the school slut to be the only one in a floor length gown. But I figured if I was going to do it, I’d do it right. I mean, most girls these days wear like... cocktail dresses to prom. I wanted to do the real thing, you know?”I agreed, “Absolutely. I mean... as a guy, I’m a fan of girls in short dresses so I have no real complaints—” She punched my arm, “But you still look great. You look like a real girl.” She scoffed at that and punched me in the gut. I doubled over on her, but that turned into another hug and it was really great. Her dress was yellow and silky and I could feel her right through it. It took me all I could to not imagine her naked.My mom got some pictures of her and I just the two of us, which was great. I even worked up the courage to kiss her cheek in one or two shots, to which my mom said, “Wait until Lance gets a load of these.”To which Roni said, “Lance is an asshole.”My mom looked up from her camera. I smirked and turned my thumb at Roni, “See? I’m not the only one.” Roni laughed. I whispered down at her, “That’s why you’re my best friend.” I looked across the way to where George and Marty were laughing. “Hey, mom? Can you get some of just George and me?” George looked up at the sound of me saying his name.“Yeah, I guess we still have time.”George walked over and stood next to me, “Just us?”“Yeah. We didn’t really get much serious ones of just the two of us.”“Serious?” He repeated, “Yeah I can do serious.” He put his arm around my waist. I did the same and we smiled and posed. Those were some of the best and certainly some of the few pictures I ever got of just the two of us. The party bus took us and all the other people Marty invited to a fancy restaurant for stuffy assholes. We arrived and made a scene at the large table in the back and disrupted the important business dinners of the leaders of tomorrow’s business world. It was pretty cool.Then we got the where prom was being held; An airplane hangar not too far out of town. It was opened partially so half of the festivities were inside and the other half was outside. Outside had this huge glitzy ferris wheel being operated by two skinny college students who looked even too crooked to sell you drugs. George took it all in as we waited in line to be let in, “Damn. Do you know how many chicks here tonight are staring up at that thing, fantasizing about it stopping just as she and the guy she’s digging hit that pinnacle peak at the tip? Envisioning their carts rocking back and forth suspended amongst the stars as they lean into one another and share their first truly romantic kiss?”Roni and I looked up. She stared at the flashing lights and sighed, “Yeah... poor bastards.”I murmured under my breath, “Horror Theater...”The actual dancing bit of the dance wasn’t so great. After a while it got a bit derivative. Booming bass and over remixed versions of popular club bangers and house music hits can only be so catchy for so long, and you can only take so much of the DJ shouting, “MENLO-ATHERTON HIGH SCHOOL! CLASS OF 2012! I CAN'T HEAR YOU!” Yeah you can’t hear us, mother fucker, your music’s way too loud, you’ve got headphones on, and we’re not even talking we’re just shouting the lyrics! Whatever.After a while of dancing George and I decided to just chill out and get some fancy foods off the table, and sit down. We had more fun watching people and laughing at some of the less talented dancers, or some of the guys who were trying too hard. But then something interesting happened. The music stopped being repetitive and overly remixed. We heard the first chords of the song and both perked up. We listened closer but didn’t get our hopes up. We knew it couldn’t be.George lifted a finger, “Wait a minute... the bass is going to drop any minute now and he’ll fuck it up by remixing some Pitbull rap verse into it.” The DJ was playing Come On Eileen by Dexy’s Midnight Runners. It wasn’t one of George’s favorite songs, but it reminded him of his mother, because it was hers. So it was a special song to him, and I knew that, he’d told me once in the dark and so it was just a little fact about him I knew, no one else did, and I kept between us.One night we were lying together falling asleep and I heard him, after singing a string of Al Green songs, singing his mom’s favorite song lowly. I lifted my head off his chest and stared at him for a while as he sang it. He must have sensed what I was doing because he opened one eye, caught a glimpse at me, then closed it again. A smirk surfaced on his expression and he continued singing but with a bit more life to it. He stopped suddenly after a few more seconds and opened his eyes then asked me what I was doing.“Are you making that song up?”He chuckled quietly, “No, man. It’s an old eighties hit. My mom played it all the time. We’d dance to it at every party we’d have, her and I.” And then he told me what it was called and who it was by.“My mom’s favorite song from when she was our age was that Tears for Fears one?” And George immediately began to sing the exact one I was talking about. “You’re the weirdest person I know.” I told him.“Thanks?”“What’s weird is... like I think we have the same weirdness.”“How do you mean?”I took a giant risk, “Okay get ready. This is going to sound intense but I don’t mean it the way it’s going to sound,” He looked at me with anticipation, “You’re my best friend. Do you ever find a person who you’re not in love with necessarily but you’re convinced they’re your soul mate? Like you’re not entirely sure what souls even are, but you’re convinced yours are both made of the same stuff.”“Yeah.”“And what Roni said about us canceling our weird shit out but we ended up just amplifying it?”“Yeah?”“Maybe our weirdness isn’t weird when we’re together. It’s like we each have this strange unique thing that no one else in the world has. And when we met those weird things in us were like, ‘Hey, this weird stuff goes well with my weird stuff. Let’s be amplified fuck ups together.’”He nodded, “Like honey walnut shrimp.”I shook my head, “No. Not like that at all.”“Yeah it’s exactly like that. Those are both weird little foods but when put together they bring out the best in each other.”“Okay fine then. But do you get it?”He smiled and nodded, “I do.” And he started to sing Come On Eileen again. He stopped mid verse, “Well now I’m hungry.”So we went to a twenty four hour Chinese place and ordered honey walnut shrimp.I was skeptical and hopeful as the song played on through the hangar, “I don’t know... it’s been going pretty solidly for a while.” And just as the chorus hit and he realized it wasn’t about to be killed by dubstep he grabbed my arm and pulled me until we reached the dance floor.It was so nice to see people still dancing and moshing around to the song despite its relatively older sound. I think everyone in the room was appreciative of a palate cleanser, there’s only so much pop remixes a kid can take.It worked out pretty well because we found Roni, Marty, John and Jules right away because they were dancing on the outer edges. We joined them and they were excited to see us joining the living again. It was a great dancing song I had to admit. It was probably the most fun I had dancing the whole night, mostly because I knew what it meant to George. It was weirdly perfect, moments like that don’t ever happen, not to normal average weirdos like me. But that was a time when I thought, you know what? Maybe the world does like me.And there’s a moment in the song where it gets slow and it builds up and everyone gets all excited. At that time, George grabbed me and danced with me closer and slower, our faces close together. I could still see his smile, so that says a lot about how big it was. And when it started to speed up again I thought he’d let me go and we’d dance wild again. But we didn’t. He kissed me. And he kept kissing me, really slow and for a long time. I closed my eyes and ignored the rest of the world for a little bit. George had this strange way of making me feel like I was being turned completely inside out.We stopped kissing when the song ended and silence followed. He let me go and we looked around, like everyone else, we stared at the stage. The student body president took stage and everyone cheered. George grabbed my hand, “Oh shit.”I turned to him, “What?”He pulled me away, “They’re doing the whole prom king and queen thing. Do you care?”I looked back at the stage then back at him, “I mean, not really.”“Good. Everyone’s coming inside, I don’t think anyone will be at the ferris wheel, we could do that to kill time.”He was right, there was no line, it was practically empty, maybe only three other students were in carts on the whole thing. We got right in and ascended.The whole wheel stopped and we lurched and our cart began to swing back and forth. We weren’t at the top, nor at the bottom either. If the ferris wheel was a clock we were about at the eleven o’clock position. George looked up at the sky and sang, “I recall! Central Park in fall!” I looked at him like he was a maniac, “Get it? It’s a Ferris wheel?”I rolled my eyes, “I thought you said you weren’t going to be the sexy eighties movie character.”He put an arm around me, “You just called me sexy.”“No,” I removed his arm, “I called Ferris Bueller sexy.” I looked down at the world below and saw a swarm of students flooding out, a lot of them cheering.One girl screamed, “There he is!!”George leaned over, took one quick look then ducked down, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Quick, pretend like I’m giving you head.”“What?!” I shouted, “Why?”“I think I won prom king, they won’t crown me if they think your dick is in my mouth,” he said as he buried his head in my lap, “Make like a pleasure face or something.”I couldn’t stop laughing as I tried to pull him up off me once they began to chant “KING! GEORGE!” below us, “I’m not going to pretend like you’re sucking my dick so you don’t have to wear a crown and take a picture for the year book.”“We don’t have to pretend,” he said. I didn’t know what he meant until I felt him get a hold of my zipper. I started slapping his head, “No. No. No! Stop that!”“Bates! I swear to God I will zip your sack again!”I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him up then turned him around, “HERE IS YOUR KING!” I yelled below. Everyone cheered and applauded. The cheers died out as the student body president said into the mic, “George, can you come down so we can crown you properly?”But everyone else started to chant, “Speech! Speech! Speech!” Because George always had something to say and they knew it.The king waved a powerful hand and the adoration subsided, “Um... students. Or subjects... whatever. Um, I cannot possibly accept an accolade as such. It has never been my intention to be seen as a royal of any kind. I don’t even think I’ll get a master’s degree... The popular social convention of declaring prom a monarchy is as pointless if not more so than the idea of prom as a whole. It amazes me that we have the gall to even continue in this tradition. It’s fascism. I don’t believe in isms. Isms in my opinion are not good. We shouldn’t believe in isms we should believe in ourselves—”I grabbed his shoulder and whispered in his ear, “No eighties movies.”He started over, “I know what you’re thinking. Like, is this a Noxzema commercial or what. But I actually live a way normal life for a teenage—”“No nineties movies either.”“I don’t know why we’re obsessing over this crown. It’s just plastic—”“Or the two thousands.”He shrugged, “Fine.” He stood up in the cart and it wobbled back and forth. He jumped straight forward into the wheel and everyone screamed. He grabbed on the rails like a gymnast and swung back and forth. As he began to climb down the sides of the ferris wheel he looked up at me, “How about Gosling films?” I shook my head, “Ha! No pleasing you... And to my subjects: AFTER PARTY AT MY PLACE” And he climbed back down as the chaperones and ferris wheel operators yelled and screamed at him. But all the students cheered and screamed. He was their king. Everyone loved him.After they crowned him and he posed for a million pictures and got yelled at by all the adult supervision I got to meet up with him again. He looked royally pissed. His crown was sitting on his head in all its shiny plasticy wonder. “You look miserable.”“I am.”“What did the ferris wheel guys say?”He smiled, “They actually thought it was pretty cool. So... Bates, listen.” He leaned in real close to me, “I never wanted to do this to you. But I’m dying over here. And a buddy of mine has something to get my mind off of it. She’s in the bathroom I told her I’d meet her. But the thing is, I won’t if it will make you mad.”“Who is it?”“Yellow Head Beck.”“Yellow Head Beck has something for you in the bathroom? Is it her vagina?” He shook his head. I blinked at him, “You want to get high?”“I kind of need to right now. I can’t wear this thing and be sober. It’s messing with my head.”I rubbed my temples, “You’re asking my permission? Since when do you need my permission to do drugs, George?”He grabbed my arm and got closer to me, “This is your night. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you. I don’t want to fuck it up. Like I said... I never wanted to do this to you but... We should do it together.”“We get high together a lot,” I reminded him.He agreed, “I know, I know. But that’s just weed...”“So this chick has, like, what? Pills or something?”He nodded and said in a strange voice that told me he was pretty nervous, “Yeah or something.”And that’s the story of the first time I did cocaine.It was in the bathroom, Yellow Head Beck snuck us into the girl’s room. Then we all squeezed into one stall. She cut us lines on this little trash bin thing that was in the stall. The beautiful thing about where George and I grew up, was how filthy fucking rich these bored white kids were. She cut the lines with her dad’s Am-Ex. She handed us a rolled up one hundred dollar bill. I inspected it and asked, “Is this really one hundred?”She nodded, “It’s always better the higher the value of the bill is.”George nodded at me, “It’s true.” He took the bill from me, took off his crown, placed it on my head, and snorted two lines pretty quickly. I did my best to imitate him as best as I could.I felt the effect as soon as I lifted my head up and saw basically the molecules in the air, zipping by in a blur. I shook my head and widened my eyes. Beck laughed, “Good?”I nodded, or tried to nod like a normal person who didn’t feel like he was about to ejaculate his own skeleton, “Not bad.”She rubbed my face, “They’re always so cute their first time.”George observed me closer too, “He’s cute all the time.” I think I smiled, I don’t really know.Beck giggled, “I took your nostril virginity. Now for the rest of the night you will be my bitch.”“No he won’t,” George said.She put her arms around him, “You are my bitches. You will come crawling back to me in five minutes sniffing for the goods.”I smiled crookedly and lifted up my hands, “She sounds like she knows what she’s talking about.”George laughed at me, perhaps too high to be troubled with anything. He looked back to Beck, and wiggled a finger close to her nose. She stood up on her toes a little and began to slightly suck the tip of his finger. I watched on as George dipped his finger in the trace amounts of un-sniffed coke then ran what he’d picked up (cocaine and I’m sure some germs) on his finger along his gums. “Thanks Beck.” He gave her a kiss and I followed him out. Before we got to the door I stopped. He turned around, “What?”I shivered a bit and looked around. It felt like there were pop rocks in my muscles. I nodded back towards the stall, “I could probably do another.”“You sure?”“Yes,” I said with the amount of confidence as someone who had already done these kinds of drugs on a daily basis. I shouldn’t have been that confident. I shouldn’t have let George think I was that tolerant. I shouldn’t have let George think I was changing and becoming something like him. That was always his biggest fear.So we did some more. Beck was right.And the rest of the dance was incredible.George did have an after party much to the surprise of his dad and Mel. They happily subsided to the guest house and let us hooligan kids do our thing. But that was when just thirty or forty of us turned up. Once it got into the hundreds, they had to intervene. George’s parties were cool because he’d make the best mixes. He’d play punk rock and classic hits, he’d play rap, sometimes he’d play popular stuff, or underground bands and artists and everyone was always into it. We danced for what felt like eons. We talked and told stories and laughed for hours. And the night went on and on.I don’t remember much. I remember finding Beck again and doing more blow off George’s pool table. Then more off her boobs.He saw me and kind of got mad but I let him know I had seen him taking pills with Cale earlier that night.“Is that why you did that with Beck?” He asked, “Because you saw me?”“No. George, I told you. Not everything I do is for you. I just wanted to have fun too. It’s just tonight.”He nodded, “Okay. Just tonight.” I remember that angering me. Then I remember red cups and UPLs. I remember cops. I remember hiding under a bed. I remember thinking, I’m too young to go to jail. Then I remember thinking, I’ve never been in this room before, the carpet is comfortable. Then I woke up at three PM. Still under the bed.I walked out of the room, off balance, my head throbbing. I was bleeding from the leg, I don’t know why. It was concerning. Especially because the suit was a rental. But I had that vague sense that the night before had been labeled as a success.The way I describe drugs it may seem like they’re awesome. And that’s because they are. But the thing about drugs is... they will make you have to pay extra cleaners fees on rental suits.I yelled around the house, which looked fairly well put back together. I followed my nose to the kitchen. George was cleaning up, Mel was cooking. “Hey.” I mumbled.Mel screamed. George turned around and gawked at me, “When the hell did you get here?”“I never left.”Mel stared and stared. George stared and stared. I tried not to vomit. Mel was the first to crack. George followed, laughing uncontrollably until he fell on the ground. I scrunched up my eyes. “Please stop. Oh my God, my head.”George pulled himself off the ground, “Oh poor baby.” He walked over and hugged me, “Where were you?”“I don’t even know,” I admitted as he walked me to the bar, “I’d never even seen that room before, How do you have so many rooms?”“I don’t know man. Ask the advertisers that work for my dad. Mel, can you hook up my guy here with some alcohol absorbing meal foods?”She smiled at me, “Sure thing. How do you feel?” I shrugged, “I don’t know how this one’s alive,” she remarked, pointing her spoon at George, “But he got up when I asked and got right to it. Everything’s almost all back in order. It’s crazy the energy this kid has.”He walked behind her shoulder and looked at me, he mimed doing a line off the back of his hand then put a finger over his lips. I looked back at Mel and shrugged, “He’s an early riser.”Later that day he and I went for a walk in his neighborhood. “Thanks for not ratting me out to Mel.” He told me.“Why would I?”He shrugged, “I don’t know.”“Does she know? About your past?” He looked at me. I went on, “The depression, the heroin?”He nodded, “Yeah. That’s part of the reason my dad married her. She’s a school teacher so he figured she’d relate to me and my issues. She doesn’t approve of the drinking and me smoking pot so much. I can’t imagine what she’d do if she found out about the other things I do occasionally. She wants me to go cold turkey.”“Why don’t you?” I asked kind of harshly, “George, you are a heroin addict.” Hearing this didn’t entirely please him. He stopped walking and looked down at the sidewalk. “You shouldn’t be doing cocaine or taking pills, even drinking and smoking weed is bad for someone like you.”“No, I can control that stuff. I’m fine when it comes to those drugs. I do those for fun. I never did heroin for fun.”“What do you mean? Heroin’s not fun?”He did a disturbingly pleased smile, “No heroin is amazing. For a while you’re just gone. Your mind is melted down into this stream of orgasmic consciousness, you paddle down the stream and just get lost in a new exotic jungle of pleasure and release. It’s like nothing you can imagine. But I’d get that high and then all I’d want to do is... When my mind is open like that it opens up doors to things I don’t want to see, my stream of consciousness leads me to places I don’t want to go. I eventually kept doing heroin, but not for fun or a distraction anymore.”“What for then? Creativity? Release?”He finally looked at me, “Bates, I was suicidal. Sure getting high took my mind off stuff at first. But I got worse. I knew heroin was deadly. I wanted to die. When I smoke weed, or get drunk, I’m not trying to die, I’m just trying to get comfortable in my skin. I can stop, I can control it. Heroin was never about getting high.”I nodded, I didn’t want to get it but I got it. I understood where he was coming from. But I didn’t want to accept the truth that George was ever that depressed. “I promised you I wouldn’t go down that road again. If I’m not distracting myself with these other drugs, if I wasn’t having fun, living life, or being with you, Bates... I’d be in a mental ward wanting to die or a drug den waiting to die. I’d much rather have you.”I took his hand, “You do.” I kissed him, “You have me.”He looked into my eyes, “You have no idea how grateful I am for that. You’re my best friend. You’re the greatest distraction from darkness, the brightest thing in my life and I am so grateful for you. You make me so dumb, Bates. Don’t ever change,” he whispered right before he kissed me again. “Don’t ever leave. You were right, can’t we just eat honey walnut shrimp forever?”

----- CHAPTER BREAK -----

JUNE The first half of June flew by in a blur of finals stress and graduation dread. My fear of change hindered me from being able to study. Part of me didn’t want to accept that high school was over. I didn’t want to go to community college. I didn’t want George and Marty to go off to Tisch together, John to dribble his way to Marquet, I didn’t want to change or move on. George tried to help me study as best he could but found my lack of cooperation obnoxious. “Bates, what the fuck is your problem right now?” I stared at him, “You’ve got to get over this man. Purposely failing, not graduating so you can stay in school--” “I don’t want to stay in school...” “You and your stupid fear of change is unbearable! Staying in high school isn’t going to solve all your problems. It’s not going to keep your little world in balance.” I nodded. He sighed and changed his tone, “I can’t help you if you don’t want to pass,” he told me. “Fail high school or pass, I’m still going to New York. We can’t change that.” “I know,” I moaned, rubbing my eyes, “I just don’t get anatomy. Why did I have to take an honors class. I have no honor!” George slapped the back of my head, “You will get a D! D for diploma! Come on! Meet the minimum requirements, GOD DAMN IT!” “I can’t get a D. I can’t even get a D. I’m not going to graduate!” He slapped the back of my head, “Yes. You are! What about the online class?” He asked, taking a sip of coffee. I had been placed in an online four week program for music appreciation. Needless to say, I was not very appreciative of it. The school forced me to take it for extra credits so I’d meet graduation requirements in case I failed honors anatomy. Even thinking about that class put me into a fit of panic and attacked me with stress. Each time I thought about doing it, I ended up just laying on my bed in a sweat. “I can’t even do that. I don’t know notation, I don’t know theory, I don’t know jack shit.” George sighed, “I’ll do it.” “What?” “I’ll take your music appreciation class. I don’t want to have you feel stressed. I’ll take your online class and get you the credits. This way you won't have any added stress. You’ll pass and you’ll for sure graduate. This way, it takes a load off and you can study and get a D.” “I won't need a D if you pass the online class for me.” He gave me a look, “Bates, come on. Have some pride. You need to pass this class. Do it for yourself, okay?” “You’re serious? You’ll study for all your own finals, help me study for mine, plus take my online class?” He nodded, “George, I could fuck you right now.” He patted my arm, “Well don’t. We’re in a Starbucks. Don’t cause a scene.” “Let me suck your dick,” I offered only half joking, “Anything, you name it, it’s yours.” He leaned in and whispered in my ear, “I want the D.” I smiled and leaned back and whispered into his ear real seductive like, “Oh so you do want me to...” I leaned forward and said in a normal voice, “Oh, you meant the grade.” He stated snickering, “Yeah the grade on your anatomy final, idiot.” We had finals week, and narrowly all survived. It was hell, everyone was on edge and no one had any time for hanging out or partying. It was all studying, even Roni. It was like we were making up for all the time we lost by slacking and procrastinating our entire high school careers in that one last week. The week after finals, and the last week of school, we had off while the teachers put in our final grades and made sure we’d all be graduating. George and his family went on vacation to the Hamptons to let George relax after the hard work he did passing my online class for me and looking at his books for five minutes before realizing he was a natural born genius, then acing everything he took. They also tramped all over the state of New York, checked out his future college campus and took in the sights of the city, revisited their old stomping grounds in Brooklyn Heights. He sent me lots of pictures and it was so strange to think that was his future. But I couldn’t have been happier for him. New York City was the perfect place for him, I figured. He’d thrive off the culture and get famous and publish books and all that. I thought more about George’s future than my own. I called him a few days before he returned, “Hello?” He answered. “Guess who got the D?” I sang “Is she the one?” He asked. I struggled at what he meant, “Mrs. Wright? My anatomy teacher? I don’t think so...” “Oh!” He realized, “I thought you were calling to tell me you fucked someone. Sorry dude. You got the D?! I’m so proud of you, babe! You’re going to graduate and have your pride! Don’t you feel better?” “I actually do. I never knew meeting the minimum requirements would feel so good. How’s New York?” I could hear a smile in his voice, “Its crazy dude. I just got back from visiting the old Chassids in Brooklyn Heights.” “I thought you kind of left in disgrace?” “Eh. We’re Chabad. It’s hard to really really disgrace them, they do a good enough job of it on their own. Besides my baba’s still there and I had my Bar Mitzvah there. I still speak the language. We’re all good. I can’t talk shit on them, it’s my family. I love it there.” George always talked so highly of his grandma so I was glad he got to see her. His grandfather though was another story, “How is your grandpa by the way?” “He’s good. He yelled at me because I don’t have a beard or peyot. But that was like a hug almost. Could have been worse. I can’t wait for you to come out and visit me when I’m here full time. I‘m going to take you everywhere. SNL, Jimmy Fallon, comedy clubs, improv, you’re going to go nuts. It’s just the place for you.” “That sound fun, I can’t wait.” “...I’m just thinking. It really is the perfect place for you and me. There’s art for me and comedy for you. There’s people like us everywhere...” He said the last part kind of slowly and in a darker tone. “Weirdos?” “I guess you can put it that way. Bates, I’m serious. I’ll be here four years at least. You should consider transferring to NYU or Tisch after you do two years at community with Roni and Jules.” “That’s a big move.” “I’m doing it. It’s good to get your independence. You’ll be eighteen in a few days.” “No,” I corrected, “I mean... it’s a big move for us.”There was silence on his end a while, “Yeah it might be. But it could be what you need. What we both need. We could just get an apartment, you and I, and eat honey walnut shrimp together.”I felt a drop in my stomach, I didn’t know why. But it was because I knew what he meant by that and I wasn’t afraid of it.“Someday,” I told him. “Just come home first.”The day George flew in Roni came over. George was going to drive over at three o’clock he said and I started getting antsy around noon. I got dressed and sat around not really knowing what to do with my body.Roni noticed once she got to my place, “You seem fidgety,” she noticed, “Why are you nervous for him to come back?”“I’m not nervous. I’m just excited.”She scoffed, “I’m excited too but you don’t see me getting all dolled up.”“Dolled up?”She stood up off my bed and looked me up and down, “You look particularly stunning this afternoon. You’re all hot looking.”I got even more fidgety and tingly hearing Roni call me hot, “Shut up. This is how I usually dress.” I had on my usual tight jeans, a normal dark red shirt with some random design on it, a flannel and I hadn’t washed my hair so I threw on a grey beanie. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s just your demeanor. This is the longest we’ve been apart from him since we all started hanging out together,” she pointed out. “Six months ago. That’s when it started.”I stopped pacing and looked at her skeptically, “That’s all?” “Duh,” she affirmed, “New years.” I couldn’t believe that’s all it was. I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, it made me jump which made Roni jump too. I pulled it out of my pocket and got a rush of energy when I saw the name, George L. I answered it, “Hello?” My stomach did flips until I heard his voice finally speak to me. “Let’s play a game...” My smile spread straight across my face, “Shut the fuck up,” I said as I laughed, running out of my door. Roni followed closely, laughing too. “Let’s play ‘Where’s George?’ Are you ready?” “Yeah I am,” I took the stairs two at a time and flew down the hall toward the front door. “Okay, go.” I opened the front door and ran outside. I stopped at the end of the porch and finally laid eyes on him, standing outside his car in my driveway. “Where’s George?” He smiled right at me, “Home.” He hung up and I followed. He had on one white Converse and one black on, he was wearing his Judd Nelson coat and one of my favorite shirts he owned that read ‘Phuck Phonetics’. We both at the same time put our phones in our pockets and began running at each other in cliché fake slow motion. “Baaaaaaaaaattteeessssss.....” He said with his voice drawn out. “Geeoooorrrggggeeeee......” I mimicked. “I’mmm soooo slooowwwwww......” he yelled. “Aaaand annnooyyyyiinnngggg......” I declared. “Thiss isss gooooing to takke all dayyy.....” “Let’ssss stoooopppp......” We did. We were only about two feet away from each other at that point. He immediately grabbed me and pulled me in for a hug. We pulled apart, “Hey, babe.” “Hi.” He gave me a quick kiss and let me go. He saw Roni and held his arms out for her, “Roni! Babe! You’re here!” He hugged her, picked her up and spun her around. “Put me down, asshat!” She giggled. He set her down and kissed her quick too. He put his arms around us both and walked us to the curb, “Oh it’s good to be back.” “Oh yeah,” Roni mocked, “The Hamptons can be a real drag.” He rolled his head back, “Tell me about it. You passed all your finals too Ron?” She nodded, “That’s what I like to hear.” We sat on the curb, “God damn. We graduate in a few days. I can’t even believe that.” I looked down the road, “Yeah neither can I. It’s... crazy...” the fear and insincere tone in my voice wasn’t as masked as I thought it’d be. When I looked back at them they both were giving me looks like I was the world’s biggest asshole. “What?” George just said to me, “Bates, you have got to get over this fear of yours. We’re all still going to be friends. Nothing’s going to change. And if it does, why is that so bad?” Roni added, “Why are you afraid of change?” I didn’t look either of them in the eye, “It’s stupid. It’s literally so stupid.” “What is it?” Asked Roni. I looked at George, “I told you I always kind of wanted to be friends with you, right?” He nodded, “I thought you were so interesting and cool. And you told me in third grade, when we hadn’t said more than a few words to each other, that I rocked and I shouldn’t ever change. It’s stupid, I know. But in third grade, I had confirmation I was doing something right. I’m afraid of change because... I’m fine with the way things are. I’m afraid of disappointing people or myself. I don’t know, it’s stupid.” “No it’s not,” George promised me, “Want to know what’s stupid?” Before I said anything he kicked his feet out, “I wear two different shoes. That’s stupid. Want to know why?” I shrugged, “I always figured it was a metaphor for your sexuality. You can never have too much of a good thing, why limit yourself, blah blah blah bullshit. Yeah?” He smirked, “Nope. In third grade you wore two different shoes and I thought that was the coolest thing ever. It was the baddest shit I’d ever seen.” I thought. I started to say something. I stopped again. Then I finally told him, “They were the same shoes. One was just newer than the other.” He held up a hand and interrupted me, “They both light up, granted. But they were distinctly two different shoes.” I stood up, “Bullshit. Bullshit. No.” He laughed, “Why don’t you believe me?” “That’s not true.” I ran inside and they followed me, calling after me. I threw open the door and yelled, “Mom!” I speed walked into the kitchen, “Mom. In third grade did I have two different light up shoes that I wore at once?” She nodded, laughing, “Oh yeah. Couldn’t talk you out of it. You were such a cute kid though, they didn’t make you look dorky or mentally handicapped so I let you keep wearing them. Oh, and I need some help with the internet, I can’t find it.” I was literally shocked, “What?” “The internet. The Wild-Fire. The Wi-Fi. It keeps going in and out--” “No, what about the shoes!” George and Roni showed up at my side. “Oh hi, George sweetie.” My mom greeted, “How was your trip?” “It was great Mrs. Waters. Thanks for asking.” “We’re so glad you’re back. Jonathan was just absolutely bored to pieces.” He smirked at me, “Was he, now?” “Shut up, George.” I turned back to my mom, “Wait... I remember one stopped working--” “--You’re still on this shoe thing? That was so long ago.” I assured her, “This is important.”“Okay then. Yes one stopped working and we were going to return them. You’d only had them a month! It was ridiculous I’d paid all that money for you to only have them a few weeks or so. And I got you the new pair, but they were out of that color, they only had green I think. The one that stopped lighting up was blue. And I had you try them on but... Honey, you just would not let go of the one shoe we’d had before. And it was so odd, you threw such a fit. I was so embarrassed because you usually were so well behaved. I didn’t know what to do so I just gave in. I let you keep the one working one. And honey, you actually wore it. With the new shoe and everything. You looked like a fucking idiot from the ankles down.” Roni laughed and covered her mouth. I tried to wrap my head around it, “They were different colors?” How was it possible George remembered something about me that I didn’t even remember? “But they both light up,” she pointed out. “See?” George asked, “I told you.” “You remember them George?” My mom asked him. He smiled, “Oh yeah, Mrs. Waters. Those shoes really stuck out in my mind.” She shouted, “Because they looked so dumb!” George laughed at her, “No, I’m serious. Do you know how many pictures those shoes ruined? I’d take pictures of him playing at the park and I couldn’t get them developed because of those fucking shoes!” Still in shock, I said to no one in particular, “I guess I was just distracted by the fact they both light up...” I looked at George, “So you weren’t lying?” “No,” he promised. “And you weren’t either?” “No.” And we stared at each other, because that’s when we both realized we loved each other. My mom whispered to Roni, “What are they going on about?” “Lord knows.” For about an hour or so we hung out in my room. George told us stories and showed us pictures. Then Roni had to go pick up her brothers from soccer practice. “I’ll be back in like forty-five minutes,” she told us. And she left. Then George and I were alone. “I didn’t realize how much I missed you,” I said to him. He put his hand on mine, “I did.” And he started kissing me. I kissed him more. We didn’t stop. We ended up having sex. Or at least that’s what we tried to do. The truth is, we didn’t just have sex. It was something else. It was something entirely different from any time we’d been together. It was so much more than just sex.And when it was over we both knew exactly what happened. But, as with anything magical and momentous, it took a few moments for the bliss to wear off and the reality to set in.And when it did, everything just sort of stopped. We were staring at each other, both not knowing what to do or say. George spoke first, “I’m sorry.” He whispered. I rubbed his arm, “George, don’t be sorry. Don’t apologize.” “No, this wasn’t supposed to happen.” He whispered. “Don’t say that,” I begged. He shut his eyes and didn’t look at me, “I wasn’t supposed to do this to you. I’m going to leave...” He got up and rolled off my bed. He started to get his clothes on, “I’ve got to go.” I sat up, “Go?” I watched him for a little and felt my heart drop, “George, please don’t go” My fear of rejection and abandonment was brimming to a boiling point. He didn’t even look at me, “I have to, Bates. I’m sorry. But we can’t--” He finally looked up and made eye contact at me. That was a mistake. He took a deep breath and pulled his shirt on, “I’m so sorry. That shouldn’t have happened.” I was getting angry at him, “George, we need to talk about this.” His voice faltered, “No. I’m not doing that again. I’ve got to go.” And he left. I sat there, staring at the door. I felt tears coming down my face and I wiped them away angrily, “Fuck. Fuck!” I kept swearing at myself as I got dressed and made up my bed again. Pulling up the pillows and sheets made me sick, knowing what had just happened and what followed made me feel absolutely awful. So I sat on the ground until Roni showed up. She came walking in, “Took longer than I thought sorry. The little shits wanted to pick up food so...” She saw me on the floor then realized George wasn’t around. She came over to my side and pulled me up, “Hey, hey. What’s going on? Where’s George?” Hearing that made me start to cry again. “Oh shit,” She sat me on the bed, “Bates, what happened? Did you two fight?” I talked fine, I didn’t really want to be crying but tears kept falling. It was like my body was miscommunicating. “He left. He just left.” “Why?” She sat closer to me, “I mostly agreed to go pick up the boys because I knew you guys would want privacy right away. I kind of expected to walk in on a honeymoon suite type thing. Did you guys have sex? Or kiss or anything?” I took a deep breath and wiped my face. I decided to come entirely clean. It was Roni after all, I could tell her anything, “We had sex but... it was more than that.” Her eyes grew wide, “Oh no. You didn’t tell him that did you?” “I didn’t have to,” I replied hoarsely, “He knew. We both knew. Roni, we... We made love, for the first time.” She put her hand on my knee, “You know you need to be in love to do that, don’t you?” I covered my eyes and took a sharp inhale, “I know.” I cleared my throat. “I know. I’m in love with him. I’m in love with George.” I covered my mouth, scared to come to terms with what I’d just said. I leaned back and really began to cry again. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.” “What wasn’t?” She asked, crawling over closer to me. “I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with my best friend. I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with a guy. It wasn’t supposed to be George.” “But it is.” “This can’t be happening.” “But it is,” she put her hands on my shoulders, “Bates, open your eyes and look at me.” I did. “Love is rare. And rare people, like George, are worth loving. It’s okay to be scared. But don’t let it stop you.” “Why not? That’s what he’s doing right now,” I cried to her, “He’s convincing himself it didn’t happen. I know that’s why he left. He wants to pretend it didn’t happen.” “Then stop him,” she shrugged. “It’s not that simple. I don’t know if...” “If what?” I wiped my eyes and sat up, “I’ll come clean. I’ve only ever had sex with George. He was my first and he’s all that’s been after. I’ve hooked up with girls, I’m still attracted to girls, but what if sex with George is all I know so I’m looking into it too much?” She sighed, “It’s a touchy subject. But sex isn’t all you two have. You connect on so many other levels than that. Sex isn’t everything. Take away the sex and you guys still have so much love for each other.” “I don’t know that for sure. Because up until today, Roni... I’ve been in love with you. Or at least I thought so. And I didn’t need to have sex with you to be in love with you. I just was. With George, it took me until today, being apart from him for a long time and then having great sex, to realize I was in love with him. How is that? What if that’s just what it was?” “You were...” she shook her head at me, “Why didn’t you tell me?” I couldn’t believe I’d said that. But I figured I had nothing to lose at this point. She moved her hands from my shoulders to my face and leaned into me, “Okay. Just try to relax.” “Okay.” She stared at me for a while, just making sure I was calming down. I nodded to let her know I was okay. And then she kissed me. I reached up and held onto her torso with one hand and held the back of her head with the other. I got her onto my lap and kept kissing her. It was strange and incredible all at the same time of being inevitable. She wrapped her legs around me and I lowered her down beneath me. We kept making out for a long time before we took it further. It was still moving slow, but we went through every stage before we got to where ultimately we’d been heading since my dad cheated on my mom with her aunt. Seeing her completely naked in my room made me feel like I was dreaming since I’d dreamt of it so much before that day. And feeling her body against mine, the indescribable concoction of flesh on flesh never really felt that great. And when... uh... fate was ultimately met, I kind of laughed.“What?” She asked, a slight giggle in her voice as well due to the whole insanity of what we were doing.“Nothing. It just feels so different,” I confessed. It was entirely different. It was a strange magical new world I had never discovered in that way before. And Roni was absolutely beautiful to look at. She was incredible to kiss. She was a joy to have and hold. She was everything a man could have ever wanted. I must have kissed every inch of her body. And she didn’t act like she did with Marty for me. Our relationship was much different, and it showed in the sex we had. Which we had at least three or four times, I think. We were at it for nearly an hour nonstop. Mostly making out in between. She told me she really liked just kissing me and lying beneath me. I liked just anything she’d let me do to her. Which ended up being a lot. It was the weirdest, most amazing thing her and I had ever done. It was the best sex I had ever had.But that’s all it was.I told her that. We had a long talk after and agreed that’s all it was. It was good. But it was just sex. I never drove faster in my life. I took my mom’s car and nearly floored it to George’s place. It was stupid of me to drive so recklessly. But love makes you stupid and reckless. I rang his doorbell and waited. After a few slow and agonizing seconds the door opened. It was him. I had never been more scared to see him before. “Hi,” I told him. Which was a stupid way to open but it was all I could come up with.“Hi.”“Can we talk?”He looked around then closed the door behind him and stepped outside. “Yeah, sure.” He looked at the ground, “Let’s keep it out here. My track record for these types of conversations in my bedroom isn’t so great.”“Yeah, so I’ve heard.” It was a bad time to make a joke and a bad subject to joke about, but I was so damn nervous I couldn’t speak properly.“I’m going to say what I need to say. Then you’re allowed to react however you want.” I nodded. I really wanted him to look at me but he kept staring at the ground. When he finally spoke I had to repeat what he said in my mind because it was so quiet, I wasn’t sure what he meant, and then I wasn’t sure if I’d heard it correctly. He said with his head down, “It’s you, Bates.” After a second or two he looked up at me. Dead serious he whispered to me, “It’s always been you. You’re the one.”It was what I wanted to hear, but I had to confirm, “What?”He bit his lip to fight back a few tears, “I’m in love with you, Bates. I know you may be confused because I’m not who you’d expect to admit something like that. I’m the kind of guy who rejected love. Because until I met you I never thought I’d have someone to share the emotion with. Love is a scary place. Being in love is terrifying because there’s always the fear that when you fall in love you’ll land there all alone. But Bates... I’d be less afraid of love if you were in love with me.”The way he spoke of love and the way he described being in love, it made it seem like love was this fantastic place that he wanted to believe in but never knew for sure existed or that he’d be able to attain or be worthy of, something a lot like Heaven.I thought if I didn’t sit down I’d pass out. I walked over to his bench, his eyes followed me. I caught my breath and stabilized myself before waving him over. With extreme trepidation he joined me. We sat on the bench together and let some time pass in silence.“Bates, if you’re trying to think of a way to let me down easy, there isn’t one. I’d hope we could still be friends after this but--”“George, shut up.” He did. “I’m not saying anything because I’m trying to figure out the right way to say that,” I gulped, “I love you too.”His expression was stone, “Like that.”At first I thought he was saying that the way I had said it was enough. But when I replayed it in my mind I realized it was more of a question. He was asking me if I loved him like that.I nodded and sat closer to him, “Yes, George. Like that. I love you like that. And I know that is an unexplored place. We’ve yet to entirely determine where or what that even is. But we have that and that’s all that matters.” I put my arms around his neck, “I love you like that.”He smiled for the first time, “I love you.” He leaned his head on my head, “I love you.”I kissed him quick just once, “George, I’m in love with you.” I wiped a tear that had fallen from his eye, “You don’t have to be afraid.” He threw himself at me. He just sort of gave up on resenting his feelings and let them take over him. He’d never been like that with me before. He just sort of gave himself over. And I was one hundred percent okay with that. I just kept kissing him. And I wish we could have kept kissing for longer but our smiles kept getting in the way. We broke apart, laughing. He asked me, “What now?”I shook my head, “I don’t fucking know.” He laughed harder, “I mean... we should tell the guys. Our friends? They’d probably freak out.”He scoffed, “I don’t think so. They all saw this coming.”“Did you?”He got defensive, “Fuck no. I wouldn’t have nearly had a damn heart attack in your room two hours ago had I seen this coming. But I’m glad it came. It was a nice surprise.”“Me too,” I agreed, “This whole thing has just been...”“...It’s been weird from the start. But our weird works well together. We don’t cancel each other’s weird shit out, we compliment it.”“Like honey walnut shrimp.”He held my face and kissed me, “Yes. Like that. Like honey walnut shrimp.”We stared at each other doing that gay stupid cliché googly eye shit. “I love you,” I told him.“I love you too.”“Can we go have sex now?”He got off the bench, “Shit. I thought you’d never ask.” I followed him to the door but before I closed it and went inside I took one last look at the bench. The best part, the absolute best part, of all that had just been said between the two of us, was the fact that it was said in the daylight. I smiled at the bench, sitting there, showered in bright golden sunlight.And we went up to his room. Love is a lot like Heaven. It’s not something we all believe in or know for sure is out there. We’re not sure if we’ll get there. We’re not sure it’s all it’s cracked up to be. But damn, do we all want a taste. George woke up early the next morning. Even early for him. He snuck off into the loft across from his room and I heard him playing piano. He was singing:You are my sunshineMy only sunshineYou make me happywhen skies are greyYou’ll never know, Bateshow much I love youPlease, don’t takemy Sunshine away. We told our friends that day too. Of course they all wanted to do something to mark the occasion. They asked what we wanted to do, and we answered honestly. We wanted to watch Viper. We ordered food and picked out the best episodes for them to watch. They all came over to George’s place and we vegged out in their home theater. I know I sound like a geek but, I have so much more fun with my friends just doing stuff like this, eating, talking, watching movies and television, than when we all go out. Don’t get me wrong that stuff’s nice, but there’s a strange sense of family when we’re all at our laziest. Marty made a toast, “To George Lysander and J.J. Bates. The two weirdest fucking dudes on the planet. For keeping the planet in balance by fucking each other. Keep your weird shit between you two. What happens in your weird little worlds stays in your weird little worlds. But as your friends we’re thankful that you two let us in every now and then.” We lifted our soda cans, “Thanks, Marty.” I said, “That was beautiful. I didn’t know you even had a concept of beauty.” “Please. I banged Roni, didn’t I?” He chugged, “One more thing. Because we’re all wondering. George, you always said that you knew love was out there. So the fact that you found it doesn’t shock us. But what we’re all wanting to know is... does that mean you two are going to keep sleeping with other people just as long as there’s no feelings involved?” Everyone looked at us and waited. I looked at George but he didn’t give me anything. “Jesus Christ, guys. Give us a break. It’s been a day. We haven’t talked about that yet.” “I mean...” George said as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, “Truth, I haven’t had sex with anyone besides Bates in a long time. I just stopped. Now that could be just something that happens when you fall in love or it could just be a Bates thing.” He smirked at me, “I honestly think it’s a Bates thing. Monogamy is a reality when the gettin’s this good.” I hid my face in embarrassment. John laughed, “Oh damn. Other John’s got some skillz,” (He may not have really said it with a ‘Z’ but you could just hear it). Roni reached for the bag of chips on the table, “Oh gosh, let’s hope it’s a love thing.” I lowered my hands and stared at her, wondering why the FUCK she’d just said that. I stared and stared at her, then everyone else noticed and started staring at her too. She bit into a chip then looked around at us, “What?” As a smirk crept up her face, Jules asked in her raspy voice, “What do you mean you hope it’s not a Bates thing?” Roni looked at me then back to Jules, “Why would Bates’ sexual prowess be of your concern?” I felt George sit up more and move away from me. Marty gasped, “Holy shit...” John covered his mouth, “No fucking way.” “Oh. My. Word!” Jules jumped up on her seat and hopped up and down, “They did it! They did it!” Marty jumped up too, “Roni and Bates did the do!” He grabbed Jules and spun her around in circles, “Oh it’s a Christmas miracle!” John cracked up, “Oh man!” George asked, “Wait what’s going on?” Marty dropped Jules and ran over to George, “Roni Stevens and J.J. Bates, at some point in their long history of BFF sleepovers and family barbeques gave into the temptation, did the nasty, and had sweet sweet long anticipated sex.” George’s eyes widened before he screamed, grabbed me into a tight bear hug and shook me to death, “Fucking finally!” He crawled over the couch to Roni and grabbed her too, “Oh my God! I’ve been waiting too long for this fire to ignite!” While I was embarrassed, I was relieved that was his reaction. We settled down and he asked, “So when was this even?” As he sat back down next to me I looked at Roni. I couldn’t tell him it was the day we’d made love, it would crush and confuse him. Thank God Roni covered with, “It was actually while you were in New York.” “Really?” I turned to him, “Yeah it was. But George, it’s a good thing. I was missing you a lot. And being with her is what made me realize how I felt about you--” I sharply snapped to Roni, “Not that it wasn’t good...” She stretched her leg out and kicked me. I dodged it and wound up sitting even closer to George. “So it was good then, was it Ron?” George laughed. “I mean he’s amazing, right?” I hid my face again. George pulled my hands off and I saw Roni just smiling at me. “He is. And Bates, there is a lot of guys I’ve still got on my to-do list. So George’s sudden repudiation of other sexual partners better because he loves you. Because I swear to God if I can’t enjoy sex with other guys because of you, you have another thing coming.” “And it will be her,” Marty joked, “She’ll be coming over to your place. And she’ll come again. And again. And again.” Roni kicked him. “But he wasn’t lying, was he?” Roni asked what he meant and he just held his hands out quite a distance apart. “Is it... you know. Big?”“Do not answer that,” I begged.She blushed, “It’s big but doable.” George laughed, “And in a major fuckin’ way.” Everyone else laughed to, “God, I’m so glad it finally happened.”“If it wasn’t for that, this may not have happened,” I told him sincerely, “Like you told me, it was inevitable. But in a way that’s different from what we used to think. It was what we needed.” “I get that, I do.” He leaned into me and kissed me to which everyone ‘Awed’ but after three seconds those aw’s turned to ew’s. We broke apart. “Okay,” he clapped his hands together, “Let’s get some Viper up in this bitch.” “But first,” I hopped off the couch and grabbed the waste bin at the corner of the room. I held it out in front of me as I walked toward them, “George and I are declaring this a no cellphone zone. We’re going to disconnect from the outside world and become immersed in the action packed, no turning back, explosions, blood, and hell fire world of the KGB on crack that is Viper. So drop ‘em. And Roni, I don’t mean your panties. Drop your phones in the bucket.” I walked around and they all willingly dropped them in. “You will get these back when we’ve finished the marathon.” “What’s this show even about?” Jules wondered as she dropped her phone in. From over by the TV George answered as he put the DVD in the player, “Viper is a former KGB agent who went rogue, she was too good for them. She’s got all this dirt and blackmail on them and she’s calling the shots from the outside. She’s sort of the antihero. She’s not doing good things, but you’re rooting for her because she’s so badass. And she’s got tits that would force Kate Upton into a shamed retirement.” He pointed at Jules, “Keep an eye on your man’s crotch get ready to sock him. The moment he lays eyes on her and hears that sweet accent he’ll get a semi I guarantee it.” Jules smiled and began to crack her knuckles, “This could get interesting.” George looked at her then joked, “Oh no. I didn’t mean punch him. I meant sock him as in give him a sock to jerk off into. Viper is a baaaabe! A bad ass, double crossin’, boner givin’ babe.” “But she is doing good things too now,” I countered, “She’s still a badass but her intentions are good ass. Which she coincidentally also has. Her sister has been kidnapped by Mikhailov, a top mobster. Viper is using her control over the KGB to get her back and take out Mikhailov’s empire. And Viper’s husband is Canary, he’s in the KGB also and he doesn’t know but he’s on to her!” George got over excited, “And it’s great because his code name is Canary and he is singing like one to the KGB top dogs but he doesn’t know that he’s ratting out his own wife! She might have to kill him! The snake will kill the bird! Viper will kill Canary! It’s the ultimate foreshadow slash metaphor, slash simile, slash symbolism! Ahk! My inner English nerd is getting a major erection! I’m going to ejac just talking about it!” I screamed, “FANGASM!” A pillow hit me in the face. It was Marty, “Chill your tits, dude!” “Oh just wait, you’ll be hooked. I can see it in your eyes, you’re all already hooked.” I set the bin back in the corner and got back in my spot. George finished getting the DVD set up and got the show playing then joined me. He and I sat in the corner of the couch together. He laid in between my legs with his head resting on my chest. I had one arm around his shoulder, resting my hand on his chest. I could feel his heart beating. The opening titles came on: A gunshot followed by a splatter of blood that spelled “Viper” followed by a hypnotic synth sound. I got excited, “Raise your hand if you’re hard.” George and I both shot our hands up. Marty lifted his half way. I wasn’t satisfied with the results, “And for the ladies in here, just know that hard is synonymous of wet. So...” Roni sighed, “Well in that case,” she lifted her hand half way, “Just because I’m a sucker for gore.” I heard Jules’ raspy laugh, “You gore whore.” “I like that,” she remarked. “That could be a spinoff of this show,” John offered. George shushed them, “Shut up, it’s about to start.” Viper’s tall black boots came on the big flat screen. Her Russian accent spilled into the atmosphere through the surround sound and caressed our ears with her silky oak tones, “My name is Nikola Rickmanoff. And now that you know my real name, I’m going to have to kill you. So agree to only call me Viper, if you want to live.” It cut to her in full frame walking down a long corridor, her boobs jiggling in her tight black jump suit. “Holy shit...” Marty whined. “Rickmanoff can suck mine off any day of the week.” “Hot damn,” Roni marveled, sitting up a bit. John raised his hand, “Fully hard.” Jules slapped him. She watched Viper drop into the splits as she dodged a bullet then throw a dagger into her attacker’s chest. She looked back at John, “I’m sorry I hit you, angel baby. I don’t blame you now.” She raised her hand, “Wet.” George held my hand that was resting on his chest, “Aw, babe. Look at us. Sexually arousing our friends together.” “I know,” I kissed the top of his head, “I feel so tingly inside.” Marty side commented as Viper did backflips and kicked asses, “I feel tingly too,” then he sang, “In my baalllssss!” Around episode three George and I went to refill the drinks and restock the food. Everyone was hooked and we were stress eating like mad men (Which is a shityy ass show compared to Viper). As we walked down the steps carrying empty cans and bowls I said, “God damn. It’s so much better watching shows with people who’ve never seen them before, you know? Like feeling the energy of someone else is almost like watching it for the first time again.” “Totally. So you and Ron...” “George.” I scoffed. We reached the kitchen, “I’ve been waiting for this to happen. I want to know the details. You two are my best friends I’ve got to know.” We put the cans in the trash and the bowls in the sink. He walked over to the pantry and started to pull out more soda, candy and bags of snacks, “When exactly was it?” “A few days after you left,” I lied. “Your place or hers?” “Mine,” I truthed. “How many times?” He handed some of the loot to me. I took it, “Uh... a few?” “Nice.” “She wasn’t loud like you said she’d be.” “Was your mom or Lance home?” I nodded, “Well there you go.” But I had a feeling that wasn’t entirely why, “Did you go down on her? She likes it when you go down on her.” “Fucking hell, George. I’m not telling you all that.” He just looked at me with his stupid grin, “Okay. Yeah I did,” I conceded. “Oh, I love it.” He shut the pantry, “We should have a three way; Me, you and Ron.” I took a step back away from him, “No! No way! Never going to happen!” He threw back his head and laughed. “Oh you are such a jerk. Why do you like making me uncomfortable?” He stepped to me, “Because you’re so damn cute when you get all scared like that.” He kissed me and spun around, heading to the stairs again. “But if you are ever down, I’m sure she’d be willing.” “Fuck! You!” I yelled at the stupid prick as I followed him. “I joke. I make jokes.” Roni drove me home to my mom’s, I didn’t propose a three way. I did propose that she obey the speed limits and look at the road from time to time. When we got to my house I lingered in the car for a minute. She told me, “I can’t tell you how happy I am.” I smiled, “Why?” “You two really love each other. I mean... you’re perfect for each other. I’m glad you’re in love with him and...” “Not you?” I asked with a surprised laugh. She shoved me, “I don’t mean it like that. You deserve to be loved and I can’t love you or anyone for that matter in the way George loves you.” I nodded and she took my hand, “If I can’t fall in love with you then that’s saying something. I’m kind of done for.” I held her hand tighter, “You are not done for. You’ll meet someone someday and you’ll let them love you.” “I’ll let them?” “Yeah,” I said as I dropped her hand and undid my seatbelt, “It will be the kind of love you want, so you’ll accept it. And you’ll be deserving of it too.” She kissed my cheek. Then she told me, “You really need to come out to your parents.” I took a deep breath, “I don’t need to come out. I just need to tell them how I feel.” I did. That night. Lance and my mom were watching television when I got inside. It was pretty late and they were in pajamas sitting all close to each other. I came in and stared at them for a bit. My mom asked, “Hey, hun. How was the Venom marathon?” “It’s Viper,” I corrected. “Isn’t that what I said?” I glanced at the television, “What are you guys watching?” “Don’t really know,” my mom admitted, “It’s just on HBO. It’s making me feel old. All the people in it are so young. I could be their mother.” “Let’s hope you’re not the mother of all of them. This would be a very incestuous situation,” Lance observed. My mom watched the screen closer, “It’s a romantic comedy. It’s got beautiful white girls falling in love with beautiful white boys. It’s a very original concept. Hollywood’s really outdone themselves. Taking quite a risk. I think the casting is based solely on eye-blueness, pectoral muscles, and vaginal tensile strength, the acting is lacking. I could star in this thing. I’m a horrible actress and I can crack a walnut with my cooch,” I tried not to gag, “Too bad I’m fucking forty.” Under my breath I added, “Two,” Then said a bit louder, “So it’s good?” I asked. She smiled at me, “Oh I love it. I’ve cried three times. And only once was because I felt old,” She replied genuinely. “It’s good.” “Not as much tits as Venom,” Lance complained. “Viper. But whatever this is, could you pause it for a little? I kind of need to talk to you,” I walked in further and sat on the coffee table. My mom turned off the TV and sat up. I must have been sitting there quietly for a long time because suddenly I realized they were both totally awake and upright, just waiting for me to say something. Lance sighed, “Did you destroy someone’s property? How much money do we owe? If we’re facing a lawsuit, I can’t do much. We aren’t those kinds of lawyers. If you are getting a divorce or are in trouble with the IRS then I or your mother could--” “Lance, just shut up for a minute.” I commanded. He did. Then I sat in silence for a moment, constructing how to say this. Lance blurted again, “Did you impregnate someone?” My mom gasped, “Lance!” Then grabbed my knee, “Jonathan, is that what happened?” “No, just let me talk.” “Well honey, I’m trying but you aren’t saying anything.” “Right...” I gulped, “Well let me start by saying... I’m not gay.” “You’re not gay,” Lance repeated, “And we owe a shit ton of money to someone.” I groaned and rubbed my temples, “Look, son, I’m just trying to get somewhere.” “Lance. Shut the fuck up. I’m not your fucking son.” My mom’s jaw dropped, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m just trying to say this and I’m not doing great so far.” It got too quiet, “I’m sorry, Lance. This is just hard so I’d appreciate it if you just stopped... being yourself for a little.” “Sure,” he agreed, “Whatever helps.”I nodded and looked at the carpet for a little while again. Then I looked at my mom, “I’m just going to say it. Okay, like I said, I’m not gay. But...” My mom leaned back and shook her head at me, “But what?” I felt a lump rise in my throat. When I spoke my voice faltered, “Mom... I’m in a serious relationship and I’m in love with someone,” she started to cry too, “And it’s a guy.” I didn’t see Lance’s reaction. I just watched my mom close her eyes and take a few deep breaths. “I get that you’re confused. And you may think I am. I thought I was. But all love is confusing it doesn’t matter what gender the person is.” Lance asked, “But you’re not gay?” I shook my head, “I’m not mutually exclusive. If I’m lucky enough to fall in love, I won't question it.” I watched my mom cry some more, “Mom, please say something,” I begged. My mom finally opened her eyes and looked at me. She cried mom tears and reached for my hand, “Honey. I am... so happy you’re experiencing love. So much so that, though this is a shock to me, I’m going to let you explore this. You need this at this time in your life. You need to explore this.” I cried harder, “Really?” “Really, honey.” She kissed my hand, “All a mother wants is for her child to be loved by someone who will love them as much as they do. I’ve always wanted you to meet someone you connected with, you’re such a special person. So, I want to do this right. I want to meet him and approve of him. I want know about him and his family, we should have him over for dinner.” “Really?” Asked Lance. “Yes, Lance. Really,” she snapped. She returned to her softer, more comforting tone, “Honey, what’s his name? When can we meet him?” I sighed, “That’s where... this gets harder.” “Is it one of those cyber relationships?” Lance asked me. I just kept looking at my mom, “No it’s not. It’s complicated because... you’ve met him already.” She nodded, closed her eyes and a few more tears fell, “its George Lysander, isn’t it?” Out of the corner of my eye I saw Lance slap his hand on his forehead as if shaming himself for being so blind. I took a few deep breaths, “How did you know?” She sobbed, “Oh, Jonathan.” She hugged me tight into her, “You’re my baby. I know these things.” She hugged me longer, “I love you so much. Thank you for telling me this.” She pulled me off and held my shoulders, “We still need to have him over. I love George, but I need to meet him as your boyfriend not just as your buddy.” I smiled, “My boyfriend?” I hadn’t thought of him that way yet. “He’s so handsome, Jonathan.” She laughed, “He’s really cute. Like really cute. You should know now how handsome you are if you can land guys like George Lysander. I couldn’t even get guys like George in high school. And I was hot. I was so hot. And you got him.” She said it like she was impressed or something. “A lot of girls at school are jealous. They’re upset George is off the market now.” “No, they’re upset that you AND George are both off the market. Oh, you two are a pair.” She let me go and wiped her tears, “So you and him both like girls...” I shrugged, “Yeah we don’t limit ourselves to one gender. I mean... I’m actually mostly attracted to girls. But George and I just get each other. Mom, I really really love him.” Lance clicked his tongue, “Okay, I’ll ask. When did this happen? How long has it been going on? And are you two engaged sexually?” “Lance!” My mom snapped, “I wouldn’t even ask that if it were a woman he was seeing! A mother doesn’t want to know those things about her baby.” She looked at me, “But... you aren’t my baby anymore are you? You’re a man. Just tell me you’re being safe.” I was uncomfortable by the question so I just nodded slightly. “That’s not what I meant, Lisa. They’ve been over here alone a lot. Hanging out in his room, going in the guest house...” “Lance! I don’t like what you’re implying. You’re being rude,” she scolded. “Lisa. This is a big house, a house you and I work very hard to provide for your son. And he’s been bringing a guy around here, we can’t hear or keep track of what they’re doing...” “Oh if it were some young hot girl-- If it were Veronica you’d be thrilled! You’d be giving him high-fives and calling him a dog!” She yelled, “You’re a pig! You’re a gross man! You should be ashamed! And you should apologize to him! He is your fucking son! Whether the both of you want to admit it or not and God damn it, we are a family! We need to support each other, he just trusted us with this news and you’re taking a giant shit on it!” He yelled with a stupid smile, “I’m taking a shit on it? I’m not taking a shit on it! I’m accepting it and I’m treating him like he is my son, whether he wants to think he is or not, and I’m trying to get the truth out! If he’s being disrespectful of our home I’m going to find out.” My mom cried again, “You should be respectful of his privacy, you dick! You’re such an asshole! Sometimes I just want to kill you!” I’d had enough, “Both of you stop. You sound so gross when you fight. Lance, stop annoying her. Mom, stop guilting him. Look, George and I... use condoms. And we only have sex... at his house or in the guest house when you guys aren’t home.” “Not in your room?” My mom asked. “Not when we’re here?” Lance followed up. “Yes,” I lied. My mom turned to Lance, “Are you happy now?” “Are you happy? Your ‘baby’ seems to have quite the avid sex life, this relationship seems to have been flourishing for quite a while.” “He was confused, you dick! He didn’t know how to tell us! He’s happy, STD free, and alive! That’s all I care about! Would you rather they go have sex in the back of a car and get seen by police or worse, some homophobic bully? This is a conservative uppity town. People would be rude or hurt them. I’d rather them do it in the guest house where they’re safe and comfortable. The only fucking guests we get here anyways are your asshole parents!” “Do not bring my parents into this, Lis.” “They’re snobby assholes. Just like you.” “Oh I’m so sorry you had to work so hard and leave your hick family in the bayou and I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth.” “You should have been born with a cock in your mouth.” “What the hell does that mean?!” “I don’t know! But at least that way I wouldn’t have to hear you talk like a rude fucking idiot!” They stopped fighting after about a half hour. My mom hugged and kissed me more and things went back to more or less normal. I just sat on my bed for a while replaying it all in my mind. Then I heard a knock at my door. “Come in.” It was Lance. “What’s up?” I asked. “Can I come in?” “It’s your house. As you mentioned so many times,” I mumbled. He came in and sat at the end of my bed, “I’m sorry about all of that. You and your mom were right. My parents are assholes. Maybe that’s where I get it from. If I am the asshole my father is, then you are the bravest person I know. Because I could never face my dad and tell him what you told me.” I finally made eye contact with him, entirely shocked at him being so open and... kind. “I want you to know that I’m thankful that you told me and that you trust me.” He went on, “I’m sorry for asking those questions. It was too much for one night. I just want to make sure I’m doing my job as a father, or stepfather--” “Lance. You’re my father,” now it was his turn to make eye contact and go into shock, “You have been since I was twelve. My dad cheated on my mom. He is a much bigger asshole than you. He doesn’t care about me in the way you do. Family just isn’t in his nature. But you try and that’s more than he’s ever done. I don’t know how I’m going to tell him.” He patted my knee, “Well, just tell him. And if he’s got a problem with it, fuck him. He’s an asshole.” He stuttered, “Uhh... that didn’t. I wasn’t implying...” I laughed, “Oh God. Don’t make jokes Lance, it’s not time yet.” He laughed too, “Right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. What I meant was... I’ll handle it. Lord knows I’ve chewed him out before for things he’s called your mom. And not just when we took every penny from him in court. If he says anything you don’t like, I’ll have a word with him.” “I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it. But thanks.” He got up to leave, “Sure.” “Hey Lance,” I stopped him as he grabbed my door handle, “If it makes you feel any better... I’ve had sex with Veronica.” He got filled with such joy, “No way! Really?” I nodded, “Oh... you. Dog! More than once?” “Yup.” “Well you’re a good looking dude. What with George and Roni... damn son, you’ve got a good looking list.” He opened the door, “If you happen to bang a hot married woman in need of a divorce attorney let me know.” He headed down the hallway, “I’m sick of your mom being the only one bringing home the bacon.” I laughed and heard my mom down the hall yelling back at him, “I heard that, you chauvinistic dick.” “Come on, Lis. I think powerful women are sexy, you know that.” My mom laughed. I took a different approach when breaking the news to my dad. I wish I could paint the perfect picture of my biological father to you, but there is just no way. The only way I could really explain how he is, is with this piece of vital information in reference to when he cheated on my mom: When he slept with Roni’s aunt, she was his intern. She was fresh out of high school, married to her high school sweetheart, looking to gain some experience. And she was eighteen years old.He’s your typical corporate sleaze. But the worst thing is that he doesn't look like your typical corporate sleaze how-to-catch-a-predator type. Everything about him a lie. He’s a spider on a web of lies strung across his condo, his wine and vinyl collection, his striped ties and his bank account. His laser whitened smile is his venom. And he lures in his mayflies, his girls that last usually no more than a week. He looks like one of those guys who has it all together and can promise you the world. But he can’t even promise he’ll be there in the morning. I was there most weekends, he and I got along okay. He was cynical and could sometimes be a laugh and he and I both liked classic television shows and movies. We’d usually just hang out during the day. He’d go to bars at night. I’d call friends over, they’d sleep over, dad would stumble in around noon, we’d shake hands and Roni would drive me home. When I got to his place Saturday night, four days before my graduation, he and I both had dinner together. I decided to do it then. And because I really didn’t give a shit about him I decided to just say it. “So did mom tell you?” He spun his wine around in his glass before taking a sip, “You know your mom doesn’t talk to me. Unless I’m late on child support. By the way, you’re eighteen in a week right?” “Closer to two...” He sighed disappointedly and took another sip. I waited until he set his glass down before I asked again, “So I have to say it?” “You don’t have to say anything,” he instructed, “You’re mom’s the lawyer, she should have taught you that. Isn’t that guy a lawyer too?” “Lance?” I asked, “Her husband? My step-dad? The lawyer who forced you into this condo?” I laughed at him. He made a sour face, “No one forced me into this condo. But don’t flip this on me. What is it you’ve got to tell me? Oh shit, is she pregnant?” “No. She’s forty-two.” He nodded, “So they’re not having sex.” I pushed my plate away, I couldn’t even believe him sometimes, “You know not everyone’s like you who can’t imagine having sex with someone unless they’re barely out of high school.” “Watch it, kid.” He warned me, “Are you done eating?” He pushed his chair out. I pulled my plate back to make him stay. He rolled his eyes and pulled the chair back in and poured another glass of wine. I cleared my throat, “So unlike you, I’ve managed to maintain a steady relationship. Well more or less.” He raised his glass but there was no real emotion behind it, “Well congrats. I guess. But you’re a kid you should explore. Don’t get tied down like your mom and I did. We were too young.” “Well I’m not going to knock someone up.” He didn’t even take offense, just lifted his glass to his lips, “Good.” “Because we can’t get pregnant.” “Right,” he said, “Because you’re too young. Or is she like not fertile. Because if that’s true boy did you score. You’ll never have any of those goal halting, life stopping, trapping-feeling scares.” I glared at him, “No. She doesn’t have fertility issues because she’s a dude. I’m dating a guy, dad.” He laughed at me, “No you’re not.” I told him I was. He laughed harder, “No you’re not. I know you--” “No you don’t. You know nothing about me. You made guacamole.” “What does that have to do with you claiming to be queer?” I yelled, “Dad I’m allergic to avocado!” “Since when?” “Since fucking birth!” He waved his hand, “No, since when have you liked guys?” The question threw me off. One on hand I claimed to have liked guys since freshman year, but I’d only known for sure since December. And even then it was only ever George I’d been serious about. “I didn’t wake up one day and decide to like guys. That’s not how it works. You don’t wake up one morning and decide to fall in love, you just stumble into it. That’s what happened to me, I met someone, we had a connection, I went with it.” He looked away, stared into space for a bit, then came back to face me, “I still... I don’t buy it,” my jaw dropped. “Guys, gay men especially, are good at smooth talking people and getting them to think that they love you and they make you feel good and they do stuff to your hormones but all they want is sex.” “Not everyone is like you,” I told him. “George isn’t like you. We actually have feelings. We aren’t damaged horny scumbags like you are.” “Hey, you can’t talk to me like that--” “Oh why not? Because you’re my dad?” He sneered at me but I kept yelling, “How about you start acting like it and then I’ll give you a tad bit of respect. If you can’t respect my choices I’m not going to respect you. That’s how life works. I’m not one of your girlfriends that will just take your shit because you buy me stuff--” We were interrupted by a fierce knocking at the door. “Christ, speak of the literal fucking devil” he muttered as he stood up and answered it. “Mia, not now.” He begged as he stuck his head out the door. All the followed was the echoing sound of a slap. It gave me a good feeling, like Karma wasn’t dead after all. “Not now? Are you fucking for real, right now? I fucking live here, moron! Or have you forgotten? You’re never fucking here, you could have whores in your spare room from three weeks ago going stale you’d never know about, let me in.” And she shoved past him. Mia was one of his girls he’d picked up in New York on a business trip. He brought her back with him, I don’t know what he promised her but it looked to me like he wasn’t keeping up on it. She stepped in with her clacking boot heels, tight outfit and long nails and went on abusing him, “You are fucking unbelievable do you know that?” She stepped into the kitchen and poured a glass of wine for herself.Sarcastically my dad informed her, “I was just about to offer.”“Oh don’t bullshit,” I wondered why people from New York always had to talk like they had gum in their mouths that they were trying to keep from falling out, “I talked to your secretary who you’re probably banging and she told me you were out early. You fucking lied to me. I had to meet the realtor all alone like I was a fucking widow! Or worse fucking single!”“I was having dinner with my son!”She started making herself a plate, “Really? Really? You were having dinner with your son since three in the afternoon? You fucking prick. Sometimes I think you’re doing this on purpose. It’s like you don’t want to leave this sleazy bachelor pad. You would rather buy me my own god damn house just to get rid of me and stay here all alone with nothing but your prostitutes. That’s right, I pluralized it! Prostitute-S!” She grabbed her wine glass and plate and sat across from me at the table. My dad just stared at her from where he was standing. She waved him over dramatically, “Well fucking join us.” He rubbed his head and sat down in defeat.Deciding to be polite I said, “Hey, Mia.” She looked like she’d just turned twenty two hours ago. She smiled as sweetly as she could, “Hi Junior. How’s school? You’re graduating soon?” I don’t know why people from New York always have to talk like everyone was five miles away. “Yep, a few days.” “Good for you. Doing a senior trip? I had a senior trip.” “Yeah? When was that, like last summer?” I asked. My dad looked about ready to kill me, “That’s enough out of you.” “We’re having a conversation Johnny. Something you never have with him. He’s so sweet on me. No, Junior, it was actually three summers ago. But we went to Jersey, it was a total waste. You’ve got to go someplace far away, a place you’ve never seen before. Some place you’re mother never took you when you were seven, you know?” She kept chewing her food, “So where you going?” “Uh, my friends and I are driving down the coast. We’ll probably stop in Santa Cruz for a few days,” I told her. “My boyfriend and I are renting a car with two other friends and then our other buddies are taking a car of their own.” She chugged the last few sips of her wine, “You’ve got a boyfriend now? Johnny, did you know about this?” “Not until recently,” he groaned. And then he just sort of accepted it. Or maybe he didn’t, he and I never really talked about it. And I really don’t give a shit anymore what he thinks or thought. “I’ll be honest,” George told me as we sat on his couch, “I never really liked your dad. I honestly prefer Lance.” We were in his living room watching old movies the actress who played Viper was in. We were sitting really close, “Yeah. I’m starting to too.” The movie wasn’t too great. It was some weird period drama. “What about you?” “Did I tell my dad?” “Or Mel...” I offered. He took a while to reply, “I don’t really know how.” “I just did it. I was just honest.” He looked at me, “I’m not really an honest person.” I gave him a look, “Well I am with you. But not so much other people or myself.” I just brushed over it, “Shut up. Look, you don’t have to. I just did because I was tired of Roni hounding me. Plus it might be nice to not have to sneak around.” “Yeah. That’s what I worry. I’m afraid my dad will take it wrong and I won’t get to have you over as much or we’ll have to stay down stairs or keep my door open. I’m glad your mom’s cool with me still going over.” “She wants you to come over for dinner the night before we leave for our trip. Just to touch bases on all of this.” He sat up and leaned over me, “What?” “This is the first time I’m going to meet someone’s mother as their... you know,” I laughed at how happy he looked, “Stop laughing. What if I get nervous? What if she doesn’t like me?” “She loves you, George.” He smiled and kissed me, “Do you love me?” “Yes.” “Still?” I tried to pry him off me, “You’re annoying. But yes. I still love you.” We ignored the movie. Viper was good in it, but it wasn’t holding our interest. We would rather kiss each other. And that’s what we did, we kept kissing. George lifted his head up first and I heard him say, “Dad...” Then he got off me. I sat up and looked over to where George had walked quickly over to. His dad was just staring back and forth from George to me. George quietly said, “You’re home early. Is everything okay?” “...Yeah. Everything’s fine,” which was odd to say. “George, I think you and I should talk. Bates, mind waiting here while I have a word with George?” I nodded. I was scared and embarrassed and guilty. I didn’t and couldn’t say a thing. George had more bravery than I did, “No dad, this is an issue that if we’re going to talk about, you can talk about in front of Bates.” I stood up and rejected that, “George, no. Trust me, it’s best to be honest and keep it one on one.” His dad stared at me, probably surprised I’d spoken, as well as shocked that I’d had the whole “coming out” talk already. Without word the two left. And I was alone. Just me and Victorian era Viper. I tried to watch the movie but my stomach felt like it hated me, my heart felt like it was trying to kill me. After forever, George came out. I jumped up and ran toward him. I held on to him when I realized he had a few tears in his eyes. I put my hand on his cheek, “What happened? What’s wrong?” He sighed and leaned into my touch. A smile surfaced, “Nothing. He’s okay. He’s fine with it.” I smiled. “He said after all he’s been through with me and my depression, he couldn’t be happier that something’s making me happy and it’s something... more or less wholesome,” he started to laugh, “He likes you. He’s cool.” “We’re good?” I asked. His eyes glowed, “We’re great.” He leaned down and kissed me then scooped me up into his arms. I tried to continue to kiss him back but I couldn’t, “Please put me down. I feel like a little bitch.” Then came graduation. Lance was ironing my jeans in their room and I went in when he called me to tell me they were done. When I grabbed them my mom stepped out of their closet and showed off the dress she had on. It was green with long sleeves and gold buttons. “How’s this? Do you like this?” I didn’t say anything. Lance did, “No.” She dropped her arms and her smiled dissipated, “That is so rude. You’re not supposed to say that.” He looked at her like she was insane, “I’m not supposed to? You asked my opinion. You always say that you wish I was more honest.” “Yeah but not with stuff like this,” she whined, “You’re not ever supposed to be honest with stuff like this. It’s like a rule. I’m your wife. You have to love me in sickness and in health.” “What does that have to do with anything?” He asked her. She reasoned, “Sickness and in health also implies for when we look really bad. Everyone knows that.” “Honey,” he said walking toward her, “It’s just not for you. It ages you. You can’t wear that, you look like a mom.” “I am a mom!” She yelled, “I’m going to my son’s high school graduation! I’m a mother!” “Yeah, but you don’t look like a mom. So don’t dress like one. You have much nicer things that suit your age. That dress is just too... old for you.” She stared at him, before she smiled again and walked closer to him, opening her arms, “That is so romantic.” She hugged him, “You’re going to make me cry. I love you.” She pulled back and kissed him a thousand times. She stepped back and confirmed, “I don’t look like a mom? I could be going as someone’s aunt?” He nodded, “If I wear a dress that makes me look hot will high school boys call me a milf?” “Jesus! Mom!” I yelled “You’re such a milf, dear,” Lance admired. “Can I wear my dress that makes my butt look good?” She asked Lance. He thought about it, “Your ex is going to be there... As much as I’d like to show him what an idiot he is and what he’s missing, I also don’t want to ruin our son’s graduation by punching his pervert dad in the jaw,” he reasoned. She smiled in surprise and she told him very seriously but with a joyous tone, “I fucking love you.” She grabbed him and kissed him again. He smiled and held on to her, “I’m serious. I love you so much. This is the nicest thing you’ve said all day. I’m so glad he’s got grad night tonight. We’re going to make such loud love. You deserve it.” “I’m leaving!” I announced, grabbing my jeans. They ignored me. “With the lights on?” Lance asked. “If you let me wear my good heels too.” “Lord, wear those heels and I won't make it until his grad night,” he laughed. I plugged my ears as I left the room and ran down the hall to mine. They were in pretty decent spirits the rest of the day until we left and Lance farted in the car on the way to the school so my mom had to pull over and throw up. Lance got her water and then waited for her to stop crying. “Lisa, you’re getting way too worked up. Your emotional levels are all over the place.” “I know, I know,” she cried as she began to pop mints into her mouth. “I’m pissing myself off. I have been so emotional over this for like the last two months. It’s literally making me sick.” “Two months?” I asked, “It didn’t even hit me until today. You’ve been sad about this for two months?” “I am your mother I can be sad about you as long as I wa--” She covered her mouth. Lance grabbed her shoulder but she waved him off, “its okay I held it. But I’ve also been super depressed, you know? I’m getting to be so old, my son is graduating, I turned forty one.” “Two,” I whispered. “And on top of all that I’m going through menopause like some old woman. I stopped getting my period two days after my birthday.” Lance and I just stared at each other, “Two days! That’s all it took!” “Lisa...” Lance said cautiously, “Don’t take this the wrong way. But you’re way too young to go through menopause so quickly, from what I’ve heard it’s more of a process.” “Why would that make me angry? You’re saying I’m too young to stop ovulating, you said I look like I could be the hot aunt of my son, you’re on a roll today,” she praised him as she closed the car door. Lance didn’t restart the engine. He just kept sitting there. I spoke up, “Okay, since he’s on a roll I won't break it for him. I’ll say it. Mom, don’t you think it’s possible that you may be...” She turned around, “May be what?” She was kind of scaring me so I sat back, “May be fucking what?” Lance blurted, “Pregnant, Lisa.” She shook her head, “No. That can’t happen. I’m going through menopause, I can’t get pregnant.” “There is no menopause, Lisa. There was no menopause. You’re pregnant. Three months along at least. I mean it makes sense,” He leaned in and whispered, “Valentine’s day... when he went out for the night.” My mom leaned back in her seat and took a few deep breaths, “Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh my fuck. No. No, that’s... no.” And then she started to cry again, “I just got rid of this one and you’re telling me I get to do it all over again? Are you kidding me? I’m so happy. I’m so fucking happy. Are you fucking happy?” Lance looked startled, “Um... yeah. I’m so happy, I’m just a little surprised. Honey, you know I’ve always wanted to have children with you.” “You did?” She sobbed with a smile. He touched her cheek, “Of course. I love Jonathan, but it’s a special thing having children with the person you love. I’ve never had that. I wouldn’t pick to do this with anyone else in the world.” “Not even your ex-wife?” She checked. He confirmed, “Not even.” “Good because she’s a total bitch.” Lance laughed, “I know. God, I love you,” he kissed her. When they stopped and I looked up from my lap he told her, “Wow, you need more mints. And drink more water too. What did you eat?” “I’ve had really fucked up cravings,” she said as she unscrewed her water bottle, “I had pickles and pineapples for lunch. I’m such a fucking ditz. How did I not notice this? I’m a fucking idiot,” she covered her mouth, “And I won't swear in front of this one! I fucked Jonathan up.” “Gee, thanks!” I yelled, laughing in shock of this whole thing. “You did not mess him up,” Lance sided. She explained to Lance as she started crying again, “No I did. I’m why he swears so much. I should have punished him but he started swearing in third grade, but it was so fucking cute.” She was right, I did start swearing way too young. But it was all George’s fault, not her’s. She started laughing and crying at the same time, “He was like a mini white Sam Jackson but with horrible taste in footwear.” She sobbed loudly, “And now he’s graduating high school. Fuck! I’m such a wreck!” She put her face in her hands and tried to settle down. I was starting to get emotional whiplash. Lance looked at me for what to do but I just shrugged. He started the car and we drove off again. After a mile I broke the silence, “Dad’s going to have a fit.” “Why?” My mom asked, completely tear free. “He thinks you two stopped having sex after you turned thirty.” She whipped around to me, “He told you that?” I nodded, “What a dick! Oh, I hate him! Lance and I have so much sex I’m surprised you haven't moved out.” “Lisa... we don’t need anyone else throwing up today,” Lance said with a laugh. “He won't vomit,” she laughed, “It’s completely natural. He should be happy his parents are still attracted to each other.” She looked at me in the rear view mirror, “How do you think you got here?” “My dad’s a sex addict and you met him. Lance had nothing to do with it.” “Don’t talk about Lance like that, he’s the father of your future sister.” She always had a knack for picking out genders. She knew I was a boy before the doctors did too. They ended up having a girl, Violet. We all met in our lines at the back field before we paraded into the football stadium. We were all in our gowns. Marty, Jules, Roni and I were all sitting together in the thirteenth row and were waiting in the appropriate line in our black caps and gowns. John and George were in the second row in their white valedictorian robes. But they snuck out of their line to come give us one last goodbye before we were high school graduates. We hugged and talked a little and then it was getting down to the wire. Marty said, “I think we should pray.” “Pray?” I asked, “For what?” Roni slapped my arm, “Success. And we can ask God to guide us so we don’t trip. Both walking out there and later in life. I think a prayer is just what we need.” Roni took my hand and John’s. John took Jules’ who then took Marty’s who took George’s who took my virginity one December, and that day took my other free hand. “Marty, this was your idea will you do the honors?” Roni requested. He looked at George, “Well I’m waiting for George to put on his Jew hat.” “Jew hat?!” He yelled, “That is so racist. That’s anti-Semitic. Fuck your prayer.” Marty looked at him sternly, “George. You can also ask God for forgiveness while using swear words in his presence.” George swallowed his half-joking anger and bowed his head. The rest of us followed. Marty cleared his throat, “Dearest God. Oh, loving savior. Thank you for not fucking us up the ass this year. Well aside from Bates and George but that’s more of a literal thing. I’m thanking you first and foremost for blessing us. That’s what I meant to say, thank you for blessing us. Okay, we’re getting somewhere now. We’re honored to graduate, which we could have never done without your guidance and grace. And though we’ve strayed from your path, swore, sinned, put our weird little wieners in weird little places, said things at climax we’re not proud of, done drugs we didn't need to, we do repent and hope to improve. That’s not to say we won't do it again, but we won't wait this long to ask forgiveness next time. So thank you for our continued blessings in our continued sinning. Forgive us, and forgive George for being a Jew.” “Jesus was Jewish. Ask God to forgive his own rebellious son while he’s at it,” George requested. Marty carried on, “Cut your son some slack, God. We all make mistakes when we’re young. That’s the point I’m trying to get across. Despite our sinful ways you continue to bless us and for that we are truly grateful. Anyone have anything else they want to add?” Roni added, “Thank you for my family and friends. Thank you for my health and the health of everyone I love.” Marty translated, “Thanks for not giving Roni any STDs.” John put in, “Thanks for my scholarship. You look out for your nigga and I’ll reciprocate.” Marty translated, “Thanks for making that talent scout that found John not a racist.” Jules added, “Thank you for my mother. Though she may judge me and the man I love, she’s never been happier to see me succeed. She loves me for who I am. I may not be the genius surgeon she and my mom are. But she loves me. Thank you for my other foster siblings here today. And thank you for my biological parents and for them giving me up to two rich lesbian foster moms when I was five and they were poor. And thank you for reuniting us on special occasions like today.” Marty translated, “Thank you for lesbian genius brain surgeons. Thank you for poor dumb young lovers. Thank you for letting those paths cross.” George said, “Thanks for letting my mom into heaven. She’s Catholic so it’s cool, even though she married a Jewish guy. I’m thankful that you let her come and visit me on days like this.” We were all kind of surprised to hear George be sincere. Marty translated, “Thank you for angels. And just a tip, let George into heaven. You’ll want him there, he’s a blast at parties and he’d make a great angel.” I decided I had to say something, “Thanks for blessing us all with each other. We’ve all had memories together we’ll cherish, today being one of them. We’ve found love together, faced fears together, we’ve grown together and I don’t see us ever growing apart. I wouldn’t pick anyone else to share these memories with.” Marty tried to translate. He wound up just saying, “What he said.” I added, “Also thanks for letting my mom get pregnant even though she’s old. She’s going to need a baby at home once I move out.” Marty quickly said, “In Jesus’ name we pray.” We all said together, “Amen.” Marty waved his arms, “Wait what?” Roni grabbed my arm, “Lance got her knocked up?” “Not knocked up! Pregnant! There’s a difference. They’re married and they need this for each other. Lance deserves to spread his genes around, he’s not a bad guy.” We heard Mr. U blow his conch shell. It sounds weird but he did this every year. He loved leading the lines during the commencement ceremonies and he’d toot his conch shell as they’d march into place. A buddy of his who was just as weird and was a few doors down from his class would play the bagpipes and lead the other line. It was so cool having him do this for us. “Class of 2012!” He yelled. We quickly said goodbye to George and John as they ran off to their lines as Mr. U yelled, “Are you ready to bid this place a hearty adieu?!” We all screamed and cheered. “Well then let’s go!” And he blew his conch, the bagpipes played and we marched off into our next chapter. I was about midway down the list. George, John and the other valedictorians got called first and they filled the first rows. Roni followed Jules and John hugged Roni and kissed Jules as they walked by. George hugged both girls and then the two girls linked arms and marched down the aisle happy crying. Watching them I got so nervous, I didn’t want to walk alone. I couldn’t wait to get to my seat and sit next to Roni. My name got called and I felt like the weight of the world was lifted, I’d fucking done it. I shook people’s hands and got my empty diploma holder for looks. I passed the valedictorians. John and I flipped each other off with smiles on our faces. I looked next to him for George but he wasn’t there. I looked up and around and saw him running down his row toward me. I stopped in my tracks, barely down the aisle; I still had eleven rows to walk. George came closer and closer and my heart started beating faster and faster. He was inches away from me and I was still stone solid staring at the guy. He held my face and brought me into him. He kissed me in front of all our friends and family and I held him tight and kissed him back, not caring about or feeling like there was anyone else in the world. I was so overwhelmed with happiness. He and I stopped kissing and he stared at me, smiling. “I’m so proud of you, baby.” He said to me. “I’m proud of you too.” “We did it. We’ve got the rest of our lives now all to ourselves,” his eyes got glisteny, “I love you.” “I love you.” I hadn’t noticed so many people were watching just us, cheering for us too. As if our relationship affected them somehow. And maybe it did. I mean we had officially proclaimed that we were together, despite obvious disapproval from most people. And that’s inspiring I guess for anyone, not just people dating someone with the same gender. We could have given enough courage to the good girl dating the biker boy to introduce him to her parents. Or to the popular girl with the crush on the nerd to kiss him and not care who sees. For the interracial couples like John and Jules who could face disapproval from society as well. We really just didn’t care what people would say. And that probably did help some of the students there that day. I hadn’t noticed Marty’s name being called. But George must have seen him over my shoulder running at full speed because he backed up back into his row and watched as Marty scooped me up from behind, put me on his shoulder and ran the two of us down the aisle. He and I both screamed and cheered as we flew by, raising our empty diploma holders in the air. That was about it. That was the funnest part for me. I mean the speeches were cool but not like... I didn’t get inspired to turn my life around and strive to get into an Ivy League just because the smart girl said we were rock stars and superheroes. And the hat throwing part is fun, it helps make everything feel final. But it was all so fast. Next thing I knew we were all just hugging again, George and John found us and we were able to celebrate together, just us ragtag team of unlikely buddies. Other students we’d been friendly with and partied with came and hugged us too. Our families flooded the field and flashed their cameras. It was like prom all over again, we posed and smiled but couldn’t wait for the after party. My mom pulled me aside, crying obviously, and said, “This is honestly the happiest day of my life. I have had so much to be thankful for. And seeing...” she held her head down and had a brief moment before returning her gaze to me, “Seeing you and George. And the smile on your face...” She stood up more and looked around, “George!” She waved him over, “George, honey?” He came walking over from being hounded and hugged by his brothers, “Yeah, Mrs. Waters?” He was a bit cut off at the end when she snagged him and pulled him into her for a hug. “I love you, do you hear me?” She kissed the top of his head, “You take care of my baby, do you promise?” “Yes,” I heard him reply all muffled, “I do!” When my mom was suffocating George, Lance came over and shook my hand then hugged me. “I’m proud of you, Jonathan. For so many reasons. You’re a great kid.” I hugged him back tighter, “Thanks, dad.” And I felt him hug me back tighter too. I met George’s brothers which was cool. Twins are weird, it’s like you know they’re different people but I’m weird and I liked to think I was talking to clones. And they were so much alike it was easy. One, David Jr. or DJ was a Rabbi now but he looked like he was just posing as a Jewish person in some high fashion magazine. The other, Sebastian, really did pose for fashion magazines. They were pretty cool.As I was getting to know them George pulled me away. I excused myself and George whispered in my ear, “Was I not supposed to talk about your mom’s pregnancy?” I shrugged, “Well the worst that can happen is she’ll just think you noticed she’s showing. But she wouldn’t get mad at you for that. You’re not her husband.” He looked fearful, “I didn’t talk about it to her. I think I spilled the beans to your dad’s New York hooker.” I gulped, “I think she’s talking to your dad about it now.” Just as he said that Mia waved me over, “Junior! Junior! Come take a picture with me and your father!” As I walked passed my mom I heard her say to Lance, “Is she twelve? She can be our babysitter.” Lance shuttered, “I am not leaving my child with that woman. How did he last twelve years with you? He looks like he can’t even last ten minutes in the sack.” My dad shook my hand. “How’s it feel?” I shrugged, “Meh. It will kick in in a day or so that half of your life is gone and it’s the good half so give it time.” “Wow, you’re joy,” I beamed, teeming with sarcasm. “Don’t be a wiseass.” “I got it from you.” He poked my cheek, “And that thing too, what’s with that? We get it, you went through puberty. Shave that thing. You’ve got micro stubble. Wait until you’re my age to do that. You’re looking like a mini me and I don’t like it.” I smirked, “Yeah you don’t seem like the type who likes to look at themselves in the mirror.” Mia got in between, “Alright you two. Let’s put on a happy face and get a picture.” She started looking around for someone to take the picture. “Just grow a beard, all or nothing, none of this shit in between. It’s weird. Stubble at your age just makes you look hung over,” he informed me. Just to piss off my dad I said, “George likes it.” He just rolled his eyes and laughed. “Hey Lisa?” Yelled Mia. I had a sudden drop in my stomach when she asked, “Could you be a dear and snap a quick one?” My inner black woman cried ‘Oh no she didn’t’. My mom was put off but faked a smile, “Sure. Sure thing.” She handed her purse to Lance and walked over. My dad put his arm around me as soon as she got close to us. Mia handed her the camera and got to my other side. “Ooh, it’s pink. So cute.” She said awkwardly. Mia pointed her long nail, “Its the big button on the top.” My mom held up the camera, “I’ve been around for a while, hun. I’ve got it.” My dad asked her, “Yeah, like forty-five years, right?” “Smile!” She commanded. Then snapped it and put the camera down and glared at my dad, “Forty-two, John. You like them young, you’re up there too. And this hot young thing keeps to your trend.” Unoffended or just too dumb to realize she should be, Mia responded, “Thank you.” “Do you want one with just you and your son, John?” Mia waved her off as she took the camera, “Thanks but I don’t think that’s necessary.” “You’re right,” my mom laughed, “I mean I’m sure he owns scissors.” My dad stepped towards her and Lance came over to her side, “Hey uh, Lisa... I hear you’ve invited Jonathan’s friends and their families over for a celebratory get together?” “Yes I have,” she said proudly. “Family and friends.” He pointed at himself, “You don’t think his dad would want to be there?” My mom looked about ready to lose it, “I don’t know, does he?” By now Roni and George joined my side to watch the main event. My dad scoffed, “I would. But I have to ask, is it like some weird graduation dinner slash baby shower or...?” My mom’s jaw dropped, “Are you saying I’m showing.” He motioned to her belly, “Well you always look like that. About six months along?” Lance scoffed, “Buddy, come on. That’s low and not even clever. Please do not show up tonight. Just do what you do, pat your son on the head, sign him a check, and hope it doesn’t bounce. Or do you need to save those checks for your own after party with your women of the night?” My dad just stared at him. He clicked his tongue and raised his eyebrows as he began to turn away, “I’m not your buddy.” He gave me one last glance, “I’ll see you soon, son.” I shook my head at him, “I’m not your fucking son.” I could tell that hurt him a little, but he’s such a dick he had to act like he wasn’t phased. “Right.” He pointed to George, “Don’t get pissy when he comes to his senses.” My mom barked at him, “Go fuck your underage whores.” And he left and probably did just that. I held George’s hand, “I’m sorry about him.” My mom held her stomach and took a deep breath, “And I’m sorry too Roni, I wasn’t referring to your aunt just then. She’s actually a sweet woman. I talked to her today. She’s really matured.” Roni smiled awkwardly, “That’s cool.” On the walk to the car my mom told me, “I’m sorry he showed up acting like that. Lance may be an asshole. But your father is a son of a bitch. He’s a horrible person.”During the party Jules’ mom talked to me. I always liked her mom better than her mother, John was right, she’s kind of a bitch and is always asking too much of Jules in my opinion. Jules was their first foster child they ended up adopting when she turned ten.She sat next to me on our couch, “I appreciated the stand you and George took today.”I looked into my cup (Not red, not filled with a UPL. It was lemonade) awkwardly and nodded, “Thanks but it wasn’t a stand. We were just excited.”“Jules told us a lot about you two since your relationship started around January,” she said. “It’s been nice hearing about another same sex couple. You don’t see a lot of us in this town.”I felt nervous asking but I asked her, “Were there less same sex couples when you were young? Like does the fact that we’re more open create more of them?”She shook her head, “Oh not at all. Jules’ mother and I have worked very hard for a long time for gay rights. We’ve always been there.”“That makes us sound like woodland nymphs,” I said.She laughed then proceeded to tell me her life story, “We were born, my partner and I, knowing who we were but we didn’t have words for it until our families screamed them at us and kicked us out. Being treated with hostility made us act hostile back. We were hardcore advocates, we protested, we marched, we did anything. We were loud and outlandish because we weren’t being heard and seen as real people. We even spent a few nights in jail for some of the things we did.”I got embarrassed laughing a little but she didn’t seem upset by it, “Really?”She smiled at the memories, “Oh yeah. It was a different time. We were some of the people who made that stigma that lesbians hate men and we’re overly opinionated. But it was just necessary at the time to get our message across.”“Which was?”Her smile faded a bit at the corners but her eyes stayed bright, “I don’t know.” She looked at me like there was fuck all else she could say, “We had no message. We had no statement. We were just there and wanted equality. There is never really a message we’re trying to get across when we protest for human rights of any kind. There shouldn’t have to be one singular message. There should just be acknowledgement and acceptance. But the world’s not perfect.”“George and I are generally accepted. We didn’t get a whole lot of looks today. I mean, I noticed a few, but none that made me mad,” I said. She sat up straighter, “Oh well you’re welcome.” She smiled and nudged me, “We paved the road for you.”I laughed, “Thanks.” I always liked Jules’ mom more than her mother, I said that, but I kind of mean it. I wish I’d gone over more to get to know her; maybe she would turn out not so bad. We didn’t go over much because of the long list of other little less fortunate kids running about. So I never got to talk to either of them much but I can see some of Jules’ mother’s bitterness validated. With raising a million kids, performing neurovascular surgery eight times a day, and dealing with Jules on a daily basis, she didn’t always have it easy.We snuck away from the party, just us friends, and snuck out onto our highest balcony. Marty pushed the limits and climbed up onto the roof, George got eager, helped him out and they both got up there. They danced around and convinced us all. So we joined them.We ended up being gone longer than we thought. We watched the view for a while as sunset hit. Watching the sun go down I asked what had been bugging me all night, “What now?”No one had an answer. I refused to let Roni drive. She assured me that she could get us down the coast in record time. I told her that was exactly why I should drive. I let her stay in control of the iPod. That shut her up. We stopped in a few cool places and saw some cool sights. We stayed in a few fun motels and had a few fun memories. Except that memory in that one motel where the shower head popped off and hit me in the head and pummeled me with water like a fire hose. I had to get stitches. That was fun.But the most fun we had was in our final destination in Santa Cruz. We got there mid-morning and checked into the coolest place we’d stayed in yet and. We met three college kids who’d just finished their first year. They we in the lobby as we were checking in. They were staying in the top floor suite with about five other people. We were jealous because we’d rented two junior suites which were about slightly bigger than the cars we drove down in. And we only got two. So that meant each couple got a bed and Marty and Roni would be crashing on the couch of a different couple on alternating nights. We were only there two days, so that meant only one night of sex for the couples. George and I did not get the first sex night. We got to talking with the three college kids and we went with them to the beach. They gave us some advice as we smoked with them in their van.The girl, Sammy, she said, “It’s cool to have freedom and all that. But honestly the whole thing is built up too much.”“Don’t tell us that,” I said. “You’re supposed to lie to us like our parents and teachers did so we have a little bit of ambition while we’re developing mental health issues due to stress and feelings of inadequacy over false measurements of intelligence.”“Be careful what you say around Sunshine, here.” George told her, “He still has diamonds in his eyes.”I scoffed, “Oh yeah, let’s not dampen the spirits of the one optimist in this relationship.”He touched the small row of stitches on the top of my forehead, “Yes please. Let’s not.”The guy in the driver’s seat, Casey, changed the radio station and laughed, “Someone optimistic about college, or just choosing to be oblivious to reality. That’s rare.”“I know,” George said, still staring at me, “He’s like unicorn.”The other guy in the passenger seat, Ryan got really emotional and turned around, “Do you think if we found unicorns we’d give them pizza? That’d be the pinnacle of humanity.”We all just sat there. John broke the silence, “Nigga, you cool?” Ryan just stared.Marty asked, “Was that joking? Were you trying to be funny?”Ryan gasped, “I am a philosophy major! I just finished a year of deep critical thinking and that is the deepest thing I’ve said all year! What am I amounting to? College doesn’t work! I will never be a unicorn eating a pizza!” He looked at the bubbler we’d been smoking out of. He held it tight in his hand.Sammy held out a hand, “Ryan Wilson! You’re okay!”“I will never be okay. I will never be a unicorn eating pizza!”John laughed, “Dude... pizza can’t eat unicorns.”Marty tapped his leg, “No, no, man, he meant a unicorn that eats pizza.”Ryan started huffing and puffing. He got red in the face. George and I sat back, getting nervous, but I saw a stupid curious smile on George’s excited face. It was so cute I could have kissed him but I didn’t want to miss out on Ryan’s fit.He turned around and held the bubbler over his head, “Drugs are for idiots!” And he smashed the bubbler against the dashboard. We all cheered, I don’t know why. He stared at the damage for a while. Then Ryan pulled out a pipe, “Fuck it. Let’s get dumb.”Needless to say we stuck around them the rest of the day and partied pretty hard.And that lead to one of the best memories we made on the trip, when we woke up the next morning and while eating a muffin, a McDonald’s flag with a crude representation of myself drawn on it by a stripper almost killed a cyclist named Bart. Let me explain.We got super high like way more high than usual, we were all really pushing the limits. That right there should be enough explanation for the above stated memory. But I’ll go into a bit more detail. The college kids went off to go surfing and we’d told them we’d catch up later. We went to the boardwalk and spent most of the day there. Around noon the six of us noticed the high wasn’t like usual. There were more colors around us, we were talking a bit slower than usual, and it wasn’t good or reassuring. We were in line for a ride called the Rock & Roller Coaster which was just a normal roller coaster with a clever title and played Elvis while you waited. We were listening to Elvis when George said with major cotton mouth, “PVC pipes.”We all turned to him. “George, what are you saying about?” Jules slurred.“PVC pipes,” he repeated. “I recognize it and it sounds like PVC pipes. Why can’t I say the right one?”I held on to his shoulder, “Are you having a stroke?”He put his hands on his head and tried really hard to think, “Why can’t I get the real word out?”John whispered, “So this isn’t the real world? I knew it.”Marty said to John, “No. He said real word, not real world. This is the real world. Not the MTV show but, we’re in the real world, like as in reality.” He blinked and froze, then came back, “Did I say all of that? That was too much.”Roni was in her own world but replied, “What did you say? What was too much?”“I was talking about how this is reality.”John moaned, “God damn it. I was hoping it wasn’t. This isn’t right if it is. There is some weird stuff out there going on if this is real. Man I don’t know about this.”Jules barely lifted her heavy lids and snickered, “We’re hanging onto the reality by a very tiny thread.”I stifled my laugh and tried to be serious, “Jules, that’s not funny right now. We can’t make jokes.” I said very seriously before cracking up again, “George is having a stroke.” Jules laughed harder with me. She and I were fun when we got high because I just get really giggly and I like to have fun and so does she. George gets just real relaxed like John. Roni turns into a space cadet. And Marty gets paranoid and overly self aware. So Jules and I kept giggling and she leaned her head into my chest and hid her laughing face.She looked up at me with tears in her eyes, still laughing, “The kind that don’t stick around?”I laughed more and cried too, “What? What did you say?”“Oh, I didn’t say the other half out loud.”“What was it?”“...I forgot now.” We laughed some more. George snapped his head back up, “Fucking shit. Fucking. Balloons and shit. The lights and fucking Elvis. Fuck this rock and rolling. Rolling on ecstasy but I know that’s not it. I need to think more. But the word isn’t there. Fucking walks and shit. Boardwalk what the fuck are you? Walking on boards like a little robot. A little bitch robot with fucking cotton candy and balloon animals. Mother fucking cocks on a duck faced bitches. God damn shit. Shit God damn.” That was another weird thing George did when he got high, he’d sometimes say his entire mental process out loud.We all waited for him to make sure he was finished. He just kept staring at the flashing lights on the walls where we were waiting in line. I asked, “Was that a poem, babe?”He looked at me real scared like and asked, “Did you smoke pot before we met?” I nodded, “Thank God.”I thought he was impressed, “See? That’s why I’m so mellow right now and you’re going insane like a crazy person. I’ve had practice for lots of years.”He nodded, “I’m a fucking crazy person.”Even though I was in my ‘Not a care in the world’ phase of my high I got a little concerned for him and went and put my hands on his shoulders. “Are you alright?” He nodded, but then shook his head. “What happened to mellow George? You’re usually so calm when you smoke this much.”He whispered to me, “When we’d smoke weed. But the thing and the stuff with the bubbling thing. The bubbler didn’t have weed when we smoked it or when he broke it I don’t know. Am I speaking okay? Can you follow me?”“Yes.” I lied.He went on, “Okay. The smoking we did? Remember that?” I nodded. He was about to go on but we were next in line and got loaded into the Rock & Roller coaster.They should call the Rock & Roller Coaster the Don’t Do Drugs-er Coaster, because after I got off I never wanted to do drugs again. Get a bunch of preteens high and make them ride the Rock & Roller Coaster, I promise you they will swear off drugs for life. As we got strapped in I left my giggly phase and entered my “Tripping major balls” stage. Half of the whole roller coaster was indoors before taking off into the bright loud daylight of the boardwalk. It starts off in total darkness so you feel like you’re alone in a never ending abysmal void of hell, then it attempts to give you epileptic seizures with a million strobe lights, loud guitar solos, a satanic death scream, followed by loops, turns and twists, just in case you haven’t shit your pants already, you can now do so at twice the speed and upside down. Then we shot into the outside half at lightning speed, did some turns, some loops, I hallucinated Jesus Christ walking on the ocean toward me saying that is was alright and that I was on my way to heaven as we began to make the long click-clacking journey to the top of the highest drop. That when I realized I can’t die without figuring out what George was saying. I couldn’t have that enigma haunting me for all eternity.I turned to him and leaned forward to look at him. He looked way too calm for me to handle. I yelled, “George! What were you saying?”“I was mostly saying fuck!”“No! Not on the ride! When we were in line!”He got scared, “PVC pipes! What we smoked it sounds like PVC pipes!”I looked forward as the drop approached then panicked and asked him, “WHAT?!”“I CAN’T THINK OF THE REAL WORD BUT IT SOUNDS LIKE PVC PIPES!”I tried to think of any drug that could somehow sound like a PVC pipe. I tried to imagine what a PVC pipe would even sound like to begin with. Then it dawned on me, “PCP?!”His face exploded. I may have hallucinated it. But he yelled back, “That’s it!” And then we dropped, “We smoked PCP! Like a lot of it! We thought it was weed!”And as he was screaming this, I looked down as we dropped further and further into the mouth of a Cheshire cat-like lion. And Jesus walking on the ocean, smiling mad as a hatter, said to me, “You’re a pussy!”When we got off the ride I immediately latched on to George and he and I ran to the nearest bench to sit down and figure out what the fuck just happened.After a few minutes he said, “Damn. I’m glad I figured that out. It would have driven me nuts all day.”“George, I thought that was weed. We all did. And we’ve built up a tolerance and we all wanted to impress those college kids and we were ripping them back like it was fuckin’ goin’ out of style, man. I’m not too great right now. Jesus called me a pussy.”He lifted my head off his shoulder and made me look at him, “Hey, buddy. No. No. None of that. You were fine. Stay fine.”“Stay fine,” I repeated. Then I smiled, “You’re fine.”“I’m better.”I laughed, “No that’s not what I meant. I meant you’re really fine. You’re so hot, babe. You’re the hottest guy I’ve ever seen.” George just laughed at me, “Don’t laugh at me. I’m just jealous of you. I feel bad, you’re out of my league.”He kissed my cheek and said to me, “Come on, Sunshine. You’re beautiful.” Then he got all serious and nervous again, “You’re my Sunshine. I should have known for sure what we were smoking before I got you involved.”“I made my own decision, George. Stop blaming yourself for the drugs I chose to do. It’s not your fault. It’s my decisions.” I told him. “You’re really calming me down though. I think my tripping stage is ending early, I’m going back to giggles.”“Rainbows and sunshine?” He asked.I nodded, “Rainbows and sunshine.”“Honey walnut shrimp?” He asked.I smiled and leaned into him, “Yes. Always. And very much so, right now.” I took his free hand in both of mine and kissed him. Which was hard because we were so fucking fucked up. So we stopped earlier than we otherwise would have liked to save us the embarrassment.Holding hands, we walked over to our friends who were still waiting for us at the exit of the ride. “Good news and bad news,” George announced. “I’ll start with bad news so we’ll have something to look forward to.” They agreed to the plan. “Bad news, we unknowingly smoked a shit ton of PCP.”They nodded, a bit too unaffected by the news to be healthy. “Good news?” Jules asked.George smirked, “This night’s about to get fucking crazy.” And it did. We got kind of freaked out at the boardwalk so we went to the downtown area and walked around and just talked and laughed. I saw George in his Judd Nelson coat, jeans, Nirvana tank top, and one blue Van and a white Nike. But there was something about his coat that just screamed rebellion. Maybe it was the Bender-esque quality, or the pins on it from various old punk bands, maybe it was just George. But it made me get restless. And maybe it was the high, but as we passed a McDonalds and I noticed it was surrounded by twelve foot flags advertising their latest deals I got a Georgian impulse. I stopped walking and looked up, in my drug addled mind, I saw the flag waving in the breeze reading: McDanger! Do It If You Dare! It flapped in the wind like Georges coat and I smiled at it. I noticed they’d all stopped walking and were looking at me. I yelled to them, “McDanger! Do I dare?” “Hu?” Asked Marty. “McDanger! Do I stutter?” Roni cracked up, “What are you going on about?” “Nothing,” John told her, “He’s crazy.” I bent down and inspected the bottom of the pole, “Fuck corporations! What did you say that one time, George, about us all being whores to the corporate dicks?” He shrugged, “I said we’re all whores to the corporate dicks and we let them fuck us. You pretty much had it.” I wiggled the little peg at the bottom, “My dad is a corporate dick and he fucks whores,” I looked up at Roni, “You’re aunt not included, by the way,” I went back to work with the peg, unscrewing whilst at the same time screwing the corporate dicks right back, “Plus, I’ve been pissed at McDonald’s since they stopped putting their kid meals in those little cardboard boxes. Where is the happiness in a paper bag?” And I pulled the peg. The flag came falling down and clanked onto the sidewalk. All my friends jumped back and looked at me like I was crazy. I stood up and brushed the dirt of my knees, scooped up the flag, leaned it on my shoulder and walked casually away. My casualness kind of made everyone confused and we just sort of went along with it as we carried it down the streets. And once we were a fair distance away from the McDonalds we were all a bit more relaxed. We took turns holding it and waving it. People laughed as we walked passed or called us little shits, it depended on their age. But we didn’t care, we were just having fun with it. We decided to parade it down the pier. We walked with it, each taking turns casually holding it on our shoulders like it was no big deal. When I had it on my shoulder I just kept smiling at it, looking up seeing it flap like George’s Judd Nelson coat. We still carried on semi normal conversation. But then George got into one of his deep rants, “We’re doing it.” “Doing what?” Roni asked. “We are doing what all kids think makes them cool and different. When kids get high, they get this perception,” he turned and walked a few steps ahead of us backwards looking right at us as he went on, “They get this idea in their heads that they’re the only kids in the world that are high and that makes them feel so damn cool. But they’re like everyone else. “They think they’re being let in on a secret of the world that no one else is hip to. They think they’re doing something new, but they’re not. I don’t want to do that. When I get high, I’m just like every other kid. That’s why I like doing different things when I get high in order to not be another faceless rich white kid with no sense of self, living in a black and white world. I want to be a shade of grey. I don’t want to be words on a page. I want to be the lines that people read in between the printed stuff. I refuse to be another reprinted article in God’s Daily journal. I want to be my own personal diary. I want to do something people just don’t do!” I looked at him like he was crazy, “George, we just stole a flag.” He got a grin and stepped to me, “And that was awesome. Wasn’t it? But defacing corporations is child’s play. Let’s break a law.” I wasn’t game but I egged him on, “What’d you have in mind.” Jules, still more high than any of us, whispered, “Let’s murder.” John pulled her into him, “Angel baby, that was too loud. Don’t say that. Don’t murder.” George smiled up at the flag, then back at me. He gave me a slap, “Let’s just run, darling.” And he grabbed the flag from me and bolted down the pier. We watched him for a little bit. My friends said stuff like “What an idiot.” “What is he doing?” “He’s lost it.” But I paid them no attention, I just ran with it. I chased him. I got near caught up to him and he looked over his shoulder and smiled at me. He screamed, “We are not reprinted articles of God’s Daily Journal!” I just couldn’t help but laugh. I didn’t know where we were going until George jumped. His blue Van stepped onto a bench at the end of the pier, his white Nike onto the rail. Then both feet were in the air. His Judd Nelson coat flapping behind him. The flag flapping above him. I stopped in my tracks right at the bench and just saw the flag drop out of my sight followed by a splash. My heart pounding, I looked over the edge just as his head resurfaced. He screamed at me, “WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? THE WATER IS FREEZING! I mean GREAT!” I checked over my shoulder as I saw a lifeguard running toward us, he pushed passed Roni, Marty, Jules, and John. I saw they were yelling stuff but I was so stone scared of the charging twenty-year-old-sunburned-possible-stoner lifeguard coming right at me, I couldn’t tell what they were saying. But I told myself they were saying “Jump!” And thank God that’s what I needed to hear, because that’s what I did. I climbed up onto the rail, closed my eyes and plunged into the water. He was right, it was freezing. We swam away. I checked behind us to see if the lifeguard followed us, but he hadn’t. I thought we were going to get arrested, but we didn’t. I thought they’d see the flag and follow it as we swam to shore and then meet us and ban us from the beach, but no one did. That was another one of those moments where I thought, maybe the world does like me. We laid down in the sand in our sopping wet clothes and caught our breath. The flag, George had stuck in the sand, was waving in the wind. The sun was getting ready to set. George and I hadn’t said a word. After a while he laughed, “Shit.” “What?” “My phone was in my pocket.” I cracked up because I realized mine was too. “My mom is going to kill me. How are we going to call the guys?” I sat up. George sat up too and looked out at the ocean, “We don’t need to. They can follow the flag.” We both cracked up and then leaned together closer with our wet clothes and hair. “Why are we so dumb?” I asked. He didn’t take long to answer, “Because we’re happy, young, and in love.” I took my head off his shoulder so I could really see him. He looked close at me too, “I love you so much.” “Why?” “What do you mean why?” “I don’t know...” “Do you want me to write down all the things I love about you?” “Well you always said love, real love, is when you’d give someone a list of reasons why you love them and they’d give you the same list of reasons back,” I reminded him. “Or at least a similar one.” He began to search the deep pockets in his coat. He pulled out wet wads of paper, receipts, a soggy carton of cigarettes, a lighter, his sonic screwdriver pen, and a sharpie. He held the sonic and the sharpie in both hands. “Hmm... not even the sonic screwdriver could get me out of this one.” And he put it back in his pocket. He held the sharpie behind his ear and felt around for a rock. He grabbed two and gave one to me. “Okay, take your rock. And I’ll write first... wait! I have two pockets!” He reached into his other pocket and pulled out more soggy wads of paper, a flask, his broken cell phone and another sharpie. In complete shock I yelled, “You have two of those?” He looked at me like I was thick, “I have three. I’m an aspiring writer, I always have writing utensils on me. But I’m also an anarchist, the sharpies are mostly for vandalism. Now, take this one and write your list. Vandalize that rock with all the things about me that you just can’t get enough of, babe.” “Okay.” And we began writing. I tried not to peek at his. He mumbled, “You’re going to need a bigger fucking rock.” I shoved him with my shoulder, “Shut up.” “I’ll need a mountain.” I smiled but didn’t say anything. I just kept writing. “Done?” He asked me. “Almost.” I finished up, “Okay, done.” “Count of three. One, two, two and a half--” “--Fuck you--” “--Three.” We turned around and tossed each other the rocks. I grabbed mine and he caught his. I looked at it, shaking my head. I looked at him and he gave me the same look. “You son of a bitch,” he said to me. I laughed, “You mother fucker. I hate you.” He smirked, “Obviously you don’t,” he said as he lifted up his rock on which I’d written one word: Everything. I flipped him off, “Could say the same for you,” I showed him the one he’d given me. Also with one word: Everything. I leaned over and kissed him. And because we weren’t that high anymore we were able to do so for a long time. We only stopped when three guys walking passed us yelled at us, “Free love, dudes!”We stopped and waved at them. They gave us peace signs and we threw them right back and watched them walk down the strand with their boards. As I looked down the beach I could see Roni, Jules, and Sammy walking towards us, pointing at the flag.George and I pulled it out of the sand and ran toward them. Roni slapped me in the face as soon as she saw me, “We were worried absolutely sick! You two are nuts! What in the flipping sweet loving name of fuck are you guys up to!?”I said, “Not much. I don’t know.”George snickered. Roni bit her lip and punched him in the gut, “You amplified fuck ups!”“Where are the guys?” I askedSammy sighed, “Ryan and Casey took them to a titty bar.”George got all excited, “Where!?”Sammy got confused, “Why? You’re into that?”I smiled, “Are you kidding me? I just turned eighteen I need to go to my first strip club! Like now! Where is it?” She gave us the address and we promised them we’d meet at the hotel for a party in Sammy and the guys’ suite with the other people they were staying with.It was weird asking the bouncer at a strip club where we could park our flag. But he was pretty chill when we told him all that the flag had seen and he agreed that its journey should not end. So he let us take it inside. It was cool because some of the girls thought it was cool, or at least George kept tipping them enough that they kept telling us it was cool. I liked being right up at the front of the bar where they’d dance at the poles the best because you’d just watch. It was like seeing a porn play on Broadway or something. But John was insistent we got a booth in the back. We did and George kept buying me lap dances and I felt a little odd about that. But we were having fun. It was a good first experience.The flag was too tall for the low ceilings in the booth section so it was bent down but standing up on its own, shoved between the ground and the ceiling, in the middle of the booth like a makeshift pole. A few of the girls danced with it lightly and we tipped them double for making us laugh and also getting us mega hard.On our way out, the girl I’d been... I guess ravished by the most, Heavenly was her “name”, kissed my cheek. I couldn’t get a picture with her because that’s against “the rules” but I asked if she could draw me and her on the flag. I gave her one of George’s sharpies. She ended up just drawing me dancing on the pole with... either my tongue sticking out or a severed dick in my mouth. Or maybe not severed maybe just the dick of an invisible man, with a visible penis somehow. It wasn’t the best picture in the world, but it made parading the flag that much more fun.Marty and John went with Ryan and Casey to go to a liquor store to get drinks for the party at their suite. George and I lied and said we needed to get the flag to safety, but really we just wanted to get to our room while we had it to ourselves, since we weren’t getting that first sex night.“Wait,” George stopped me as we got to the hotel entrance. “This is a nice place it’s not like the motels that tried to murder you in the shower. We can’t just walk in with a flag.”“Sure we can,” I suggested, “It would be less suspicious if we just walked in, both carrying it casually, then trying to sneak it in the window or something. Let’s just be cool about it.”He got determined and grabbed the end of the flag, “I fucking love you.”“I fucking know.”“Let’s do this shit.” And we walked in. He held it from the back and I guided us in. We got a few looks from the front desk people and the bellhops. A few guests tried not to stare. But we kept our heads high and marched onwards.We got into the hallway, out of the main lobby and I heard George began to chuckle. I shushed him and we headed toward the elevators. I stopped. “Ooof!” I heard George grunt. I turned around.“What?”He was hunched over and grabbing his stomach, “You’ve gotta tell me when you’re gonna stop walking. I got stabbed in the stomach.” I apologized. He stood up, “Why’d you stop?”I looked around at the elevators, “This thing’s not going to fit in the elevators.”“Oh you’re right... want to just leave it?”“No I’m determined now!”“Yeah me too!” He yelled, “I’m determined to have sex with you. And we won't be able to, wasting our time trying to get this fuckin’ thing up the stairs. It will take hours!”“The stairs!” I yelled happily, turning around and running with the flag back down the hall.We had to take turns shoving the flag up the stairwell. One would punch it until it bent around the corner and another would be there to grab it as it snapped out and whacked them in the chest. We did this for about three flights. Then we developed a new plan and took turns holding it upright in the center of the stairwell where there was no stairs in the way. One would run up the corners, grab it and then move it up and the other would run around the next corner grab it and so on and so forth until we hit floor eleven.We dragged it down the hall to our junior suite. The fucking thing was longer than the room. The ceilings were definitely way too short to stand it up right. So we had to make it go across and shove it up so it was being held by the opposite walls. It was a giant, room-length limbo bar. We collapsed on the ground exhausted, wiping the sweat off our brows, catching our breath, swearing at nothing, and trying to cool off; And we hadn’t even had sex yet. The sex was interesting because the flagpole was only slightly higher than the headboard. And the headboard was only slightly higher than the mattress. Limbo sex is weird, but... I’d recommend it. It literally brings you closer.I know what you’re thinking: “When does Bart the cyclist and the muffin come in to all this?” Which is probably something you’ve never thought before.So when does Bart the cyclist and the muffin com into all of this?The answer: After I took DMT.The party in the suite was sweet because I’d never partied like that in a hotel. The other friends Casey, Sammy, and Ryan were staying with were super cool. They had fun seventies music on and they were all pretty wasted by the time we got there.I asked Roni what had happened while we were gone but she was so fucked up, “Bates, you’re amazing right now. Isn’t this amazing?” She grabbed my arm and pulled me down to the ground where she was sitting with Jules.“What are you on?” I asked, afraid for the answerThe answer: DMT.“But you can’t do it. George will be so mad.”“He can make his own decisions,” I turned around and stood up, coming face to face with George. “Just Bates, promise me something. You won't make habits.”“I’ll do my best,” I asked, almost annoyed by how touchy he got with this sort of stuff.“Answer me this. Had you never met me would you be doing this stuff? Or is it because of me?”“Are you seriously asking me if you’re a bad influence on me?” I asked, forgetting why he had made Roni break up with him.“Yes.”“You’re not. George, we’re young and celebrating and I’m smart enough to know the realities and I love you enough that I wouldn’t want to hurt you,” I promised. “Are you going to?”I shouldn’t have asked. He might not have done it had I not asked. I could have avoided so much had I just not fucking asked. I shouldn’t have liked his answer but I did.The answer: He did DMT.I’m not saying drugs are ever the answer. But in this particular instance it was a viable option.The rest of the night... I don’t remember much. It felt like someone poured psychedelic syrup on my brain. I felt like I was hovering above myself all night. I had been broken down into bits and pieces of myself and each piece was waltzing with the other piece having a hundred different experiences at once. I felt like there were infinite me’s doing infinite things. I was everything and nothing. I was both alive and dead but never of enough conscious awareness to determine which one it was. It was Schrodinger’s drug trip. I was the all hallucinating, all mind dripping, drugged up deity of the world. That’s how I felt. That is not how I acted. Or so it has been explained to me.I apparently did something with my penis on the glass of the balcony. One story Jules likes to remind me of is I sang the entirety of Bohemian Rhapsody and Under Pressure to her in a serenade. I used to not believe her, then she showed me video graphic evidence. Then I deleted said evidence. Now I act like I still don’t believe her. I found a condom on the floor and bet everyone I could get it over my whole head. And I did. I then lost all the money I made from that bet when I bet that I could drink an entire bottle of Jager. I lost after the third sip.I remember when people found out George did slam poetry they asked him to recite something. He just went to the iPod that was playing and starting scrolling for a little. We watched him until he finally screamed, “BUDDY GUY! Just the man I was looking for.” He played a blues song that was really incredible and made me kind of trip out. George waited for himself to get a grip on the rhythm and then began to sing his song over the music, accompanying it almost perfectly.He sang/talked in his great blues voice, “I’m lacking in my slacking because my thoughts are always attacking. There’s never any time for relaxing. But that’s just me. I’m just attracting things people can’t see. Like ideas for really lame poetry. But my lacking procrastination leaves me racking my brains creation of the insane personification of my own mind. I don’t know where to go when I’m alone. I’m an introvert so I return to my inside. I tunnel in my head until I feel like I am dead and my thoughts are all around and I feel like I’ve been buried six feet down into the ground. But I’m only in my mind.“My minds a strange place, in which I can’t see my own face. I cover all my mirrors with drapes, because I don’t want to know. The only thing I see is not me but rather my brain personified and amplified by the thoughts I keep inside and I have to place to run to, no place to hide. These thoughts, this man, my brain? He’s lost, he can’t obey! He doesn’t play by the rules. He won’t explain his abuse. He just keeps screaming at me! Screaming away! So I let it be. I let it be as I lay buried within me and I let him scream and I don’t know how to breathe, I just listen to my brain speak, I hear myself think. “The voice in my head wants me dead. The brain in my mind is not mine! My brain doesn’t want me alive! What’s murder to him, to me is suicide! Don’t make me listen to him, to those thoughts so grim! I hate retreating to myself within!” The song kept playing, we thought he’d taken a break but he just kept looking down, moving slightly to the beat of the song. After a while, when we were sure he was finished, we all cheered. He looked up and smiled really big, which took some of my worry away. The party people surrounded him and high fived him and cheered him on, complimenting him, contributing to that big old smile. But when the praise wore off and died down and people went back to drinking and dancing, George went off into the corner to sit down. I watched him stare at nothing with a blank wide-eyed expression for too long for my liking. I joined him. He didn’t even notice.“George,” I called. He didn’t hear, “George!” That startled him and snapped him out. He looked at me frightened and tried to catch his breath. Then he asked, “Bates?”“Yeah, it’s me. George, I’m here.”He sighed in relief and pulled me into a limp embrace, “Come here, baby.” And he held me there for a while against his chest. I could feel his heart beating fast. After a few moments he asked me, “Can we go to bed now?”“Yeah,” I told him. “Come on.” Marty and Roni didn’t get in for a while. So we had more time to ourselves than we thought we’d be able to get. It was good until we were just lying there in the darkness, not saying a word. George was lying on his back, one hand behind his head, the other resting on his chest. That’s when I noticed it going up and down really fast. I listened to his breathing getting faster and faster. Quickly, I got closer to him and held his hand, “George. George, what’s wrong?” Through his breaths he said to me, “I don’t know. Nothing. Just talk to me, please? Tell me something, ask me anything. Just make me stop thinking.” I panicked, “Um... When Roni first met you she told me you were afraid of busses. Why?” He turned over to face me and we laid really close to each other. “In the eighth grade I took the bus. I had a crush on this girl, Amanda. I tried to flirt with her but she was always riding with her younger sister Gillian. One day Gill was sick so I sat next to Amanda and charmed her as best as I could, thinking it was my only chance I’d have to flirt with her, so I had better do it good.” “And?” I asked, urging him to keep talking as his normal voice, my George, was coming back. He laughed, “I did it too good. I got my first blow job in the back row of the bus when I was in eighth grade.” I shook my head in disbelief, “I got my first blow job this year. From you.” He laughed at that. “How would getting blown when you’re thirteen be bad?” “We were nearing the school zone... there were speed bumps and...” he started to laugh, “She bit my penis, man.” I laughed too, “I thought she was going to bite it off. She didn’t but it hurt like hell. So I had to choose whether I wanted to be afraid of blow jobs or busses. And you and I both know which one I ended up picking.” “That’s it? That’s the end of that story?” He nodded and I busted up laughing. He laughed too and it finally felt normal again, just he and I being best friends. When we settled down I just looked at him, smiling and I felt so much better. “So you realize that not every time you go on a bus some girl is going to put your penis in her mouth, right?” “Well when you look like me you don’t take a chance.” “Ha! Smart thinking...” I looked at him some more, “You are pretty sexy.” “I know.” “And you’re not afraid of blow jobs. So you wouldn’t mind if I...” Rolling onto his back again and chuckling he replied, “Be my guest.” And I ducked under the covers and tried to take his mind off his thoughts. We awoke to screaming. I shot up out of bed and looked around. Roni sat up too and looked at me, “That was Jules!” She said. She got off the pull out bed next to Marty and shook him as she pulled her jeans off the floor and slid her legs into them. “Wake up, Jules is screaming.”I noticed George wasn’t next to me. I looked all around. It wasn’t like it was a big place. It only took me .02 seconds to realize he wasn’t there and .01 seconds to panic. I stood up and tried to quickly get dressed too.Marty’s groggy morning voice said to me, “Oh, hey. You’re a bit of a shower.” I looked across the room to see he was awake, and then I looked down and realized I was still naked. I covered up and ran to my underwear on the ground and pulled them on. Another scream echoed, coming closer. Roni yelled as she put her shirt on, “Oh shit! JULES HANG ON HONEY!” “George isn’t here either!” I panicked. I struggled my way into my tight jeans. There was pounding at our door. On the other side Jules was hysterical, “Help! Help me! It’s bad! It’s so bad!” I broke out into cold sweat and ran to the door still shirtless and flung it open. “What happened? Where’s George?” I asked. She screamed at me, “I don’t fucking know! But you’ve got to help me! It’s John! He’s... he’s...” I started to get panicked, hoping this wasn’t about to turn into a crime scene. Roni came running over and hugged Jules. Jules grabbed her and they ran down the hall. I turned around to Marty who was just looking around deliriously. The toilet flushed in the bathroom. George walked out and I ran over to him, so full of relief and oblivious to the world around me, just happy he was alive. I didn’t notice the flag was still in the room, stretched across like a limbo bar and I ran right into it and fell over. Both dudes started laughing at me as I rolled on the floor moaning. George helped me up, “Oh, what a way to wake up. Morinin’, Sunshine.” I stood up and rubbed my head. “Oh, shit.” George gasped, “You are bleeding from your stitches, dude.” Marty came over. “Let me see! Oh! That’s bad.” Blood started to drip into my eye, “Is it really that bad?” “No,” they both lied to me. “Rub some dirt in it,” George instructed. “Do we have dirt on hand?” I asked. “I’ve got a few packs of cigarettes,” George offered. “No. I think I should sterilize it. Do we have alcohol?” “Oh yeah,” Marty nodded. “Tons,” George confirmed. I tried to swallow their stupidity, “I meant rubbing alcohol. Not booze.” George slowly nodded his head, “Oh. That might be a problem then.” “You two are fucking useless to me.” “John has rubbing alcohol. He bought some last night...” Marty trailed off. “Why the fuck would he buy rubbing alcohol?” Marty got a terrified look on his face, “I think I know why Jules was screaming.” We bolted it to their room. Roni let us in to the shit show. John was in the bathroom looking at his neck in the mirror while Jules was screaming at him. “Why are you so stupid!? You’re so handsome and respectable! You had to go and ruin it! You look like some thug!” John yelled back, “That’s racist!” “What am I supposed to do with you? I can never take you home to my mother now! And what about our wedding? Were you planning to wear a scarf? And our children! What are you going to tell our children!?” She cried. “You never think about the children! Here I am not eating fried foods to keep my eggs healthy and you go and defile yourself!” Marty took a closer step to the action. “If I may--” Jules screamed, “YOU STAY OUT OF THIS!” John yelled over her, “Is that fuckin’ Marty!? You bring his bitch ass in here! I’ve got a fuckin’ bone to pick in your head and kill you with, Marty!” George asked Roni, “What happened?” “After the strip club Marty and those two college nimrods convinced John to get a tattoo.” I shrugged, “So? Tattoos are hot. All girls like tattoos on guys.” Roni gave me a look, “A neck tattoo. Of a fucking dragon.” I immediately saw the problem and sided with Jules. “That ain’t even the fuckin’ half of it Other John!” John yelled to me from the bathroom. I walked in, “Yeah what else-- HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD!” His neck was redder than the devil’s dick, puffier than Puff Daddy, and covered in a black Anime-style dragon. “Is it that bad?” He asked, kind of sadly. His eyes, I noticed, were pressed shut as tight as he could make them. I inspected it closer. “Yeah, it’s that bad.” “Fuck...” Marty tried to reason, “He’s going to be a baller in a few months. If he doesn’t get tatted up and look the part his career goes nowhere! I’m helping his career. So yes, we are thinking about the children. Their dad will be in the NBA and he’ll be rich!” He argued, “Plus, the other players will treat him with more respect. And the dragon matches his Asian heritage.” I said under my breath as I inspected the artwork more closely, “This Anime is Japanese.” That mad John even madder. He slammed his fist on the counter and shut his eyes even more. I gave him a pat on the back, “It will be okay.” “I don’t give a fucking fuck about what the other ballers will think of him!” Jules yelled at Marty, “Do the ballers kiss his neck? Do the ballers wake up next to him every morning? No! His wife does! I do!” “Woman! You are not my wife!” “But I’m going to be! Don’t forget John, I am the ONLY person who knows about that secret thing you like that I do to your balls,” Jules snarled. George couldn’t help but laugh into his fist, hearing about his buddy’s weird sexual kinks. John opened his eyes, “Okay I get it-- WHOA HOLY SHIT!” “What?” I asked. “Nigga, you are bleeding. Into your eyeballs right now.” I looked in the mirror and screamed. I turned on the faucet and washed my face. When I got back up I looked back in the mirror again, John was laughing at me. “Don’t laugh at me. At least this will heal. That Japanese dragon on your Chinese neck is forever.” John scowled, “You fucking piece of shit.” “You shitty piece of fuck.” We glared at each other until we laughed. In the other room Jules was abusing Marty verbally and physically for convincing John to go through with it. “So how’d it get swollen? I don’t remember even seeing it last night.” “I had a bandage on. I told Jules I fell or some shit. But this morning I went to go clean it with this,” he held up a bottle of rubbing alcohol. I hadn’t noticed George had walked in until he said, “Fuck, no! Dude, you never put rubbing alcohol on new tattoos. That’s rule one man!” He sighed and touched his neck. He winced and cursed, “Fuck that fat mother fucker.” He yelled, “MARTY YOU’RE A DUMB ASS! That’s the last time I take advice from someone with the IQ equivalent of a fucking GRAPENUT!” I took the alcohol off the counter, “But it’s for the best. I’ve got a head wound.” “Here let me help you with that,” John offered as he poured it onto some of the extra bandages he got from his tattoo. “Thanks, bro.” “I’m not gonna fucking dab you though. That’s his job,” he said as he handed it to George on his way out of the bathroom. “Jules, angel baby. Talk to me.” “I can’t even fucking look at you right now.” “I’m in pain. Juliet, you’re my girl. You’re the mother of my future children. Don’t make the pain worse by not showing me affection when I’m hurting. I just need your love, Juliet.” I whispered to George, “Damn. He’s good.” “I know.” “He used her real name and everything. That’s sexy.” He raised an eyebrow, “You want me to start calling you Jonathan?” I shivered, “Ew. No. That reminds me of my mother.” He quietly laughed. “Come here, babe.” George motioned me over to him and cleaned me up. Outside the bathroom we could hear John talking to the crying mess that was Jules. They went back and forth and on and on until fences were mended as they reminded each other that they were only months away from being prematurely ripped from the womb that was their blossoming romance. Then, making out. George gently dabbed at the stitches, “That’s us now.” “What is?” “Not the fighting. But... when I got accepted to Tisch we weren’t together. Now we are. Is it going to be hard?” “Yes, but we’ll get through it. We’re handling it fine now.” “What if... I’m not?” I rubbed his arm, “You’re going after your dream. You’re going to take New York by storm. You’re an artist, you’ll flourish, get your wings, and in two years I’ll join you.” He smiled and nodded, “That makes me feel better.” “Good.” “Yep, so is your gross head wound. All sterile, clean and healing.” Don’t worry, we’re getting to Bart and the muffin. Hang on, you’re being so patient. So everyone went to our room. John’s swelling went down and to make up for the ruckus everyone decided that the two injured people should bring the regular people breakfast. I don’t know where the logic was in that, the only thing I’ve come up with is: My friends were assholes.So we went to the continental breakfast. It was a nice place they had a big buffet line out and tables inside and out on a patio.“It’s not a bad tattoo is it?” John asked.“It’s a strange location,” I admitted, “But it’s not a bad design. And you’ll get some cred on the basketball team too. I mean, I hear Hayao Miyazaki is really popular in NBA circles.”He ignored my joke, tried to hide his smile, and loaded up his plate with more and more mountains of bacon.“Think you’ll miss Jules?”He went to the sausage, “Of course I will. I don’t know if I...”“What?” I asked as I reached for the muffins (See we’re getting there).He looked at me, “I’m not really joking or just going along with her stupid fantasies when we talk about being together forever. I mean, not everyone marries their high school sweetheart. But we weren’t really official until this year, we’ve had the chase since we were fourteen. I’ve got her and I don’t know if I’d want to let her go. And you should see her man, you should see her with those foster kids. She’s an amazing mother already. Yeah, she’s not the smartest girl in the world. But no one has ever cared about anyone as much as Jules cares about me and our future. Why would I want to give that up and start over? She’s...”“The one?”“Yeah,” he took a muffin and started to eat it right there, “Why do you care about our relationship all of the sudden? I thought you guys got annoyed by us.”“When you guys aren’t in front of us, John, you are the sweetest most considerate person. Jules blabs about you to me all the time. I’ve always really respected your guys’ relationship. I can’t believe you’ll be apart.”“Its fine, I’m going to come back for her. Or I’ll bring her out with me.”“Don’t do anything to jeopardize your future,” I warned.“No. I won't. Jules won't let me anyways. God she’s great. I’ll bring her out with me in a few years.”“That’s what George and I are going to do. He’ll be gone for two years and I’m going to try to transfer to NYU. Even if I don’t get in, I’ll probably still go out there. It’d be good for my career. And... well you know.”“You love the dude.” I looked at him with a sort of new admiration. He just shrugged, “I get it. Take it from me. I’ve seen my parents get hate, I’ve seen me and Jules get hate, different couples are going to get hate. So you’ve got to love each other all that much more. That’s my advice.”“It’s not bad advice.”“You want to be with him forever?”I bit a muffin and began almost stress eating, “I hadn’t thought about that,” I said with my mouth full. “Here’s what I do want to think about though.”“Hm?”“What is the one secret thing that Jules does to your balls that you love so much?”“Fuck. You.”“Come on just tell me, no one’s here. Just say it. What does she do? Does she do the thing where you tie a shoelace around them? Does she use her hands? Oh I know! She puts her cellphone on them and when she’s blowing you she uses the house phone to call it. That’s it isn’t it?”“If you don’t stop talking about my woman like that I will shove bacon in your ears.”I bit into the muffin again, looked out the window, then started to choke.Here’s why.The rest of this story I was not there for, I am relaying second hand information and I will do my best to describe it the way it was told to me. Not in the way I think it happened.So like I said, Marty gets paranoid when he smokes. It takes four or five more hits after the initial three or so after to calm him back down. In our room, George was lighting up and shared with Marty and Jules and Roni. It was pretty sketchy, it was a smoking room but still. So they didn’t want to burn too much, plus they were sharing so Marty never got his “Calm me back down” tokes, just the initial “Freak the fuck out” ones.He kept staring at the flag, strung across the room like a limbo bar, freaking out, “They know, man. They know! McDonalds is gonna sue us man. The cops are going to know you two jumped off the pier. They’re gonna arrest us!”And he started freaking out trying to get it out of the room. “Marty! Don’t bring it in the hallway there’s cops staying on this floor I met them last night,” Jules lied just to freak him out.“What?!” He whined, “Fuck this man. Fuck Bates! He should have never done this he’s a fucking idiot!”Roni stood up and slapped him, “Don’t talk about my best friend like that! He is twice the lover you will ever be and his penis is of perfect proportions, not too big, not too small! He’s very proportionally endowed.” Oh wait... that’s how I imagined it happened. That’s not how it was told to me.What I guess “really happened” was Roni and Jules saw the picture that Heavenly drew of me and asked what the fuck it was.George told them what the fuck it was, “It’s Bates. He’s being a stripper.”“Did you draw that after you went to the strip club?” Jules asked.“Uhh...” George was high so his perception filter was shot out. He forgot that girls generally don’t approve of strip clubs, “More like while we were at the strip club?”“What?!” Yelled Roni.“A stripper that was all over Bates drew it for him while we were in there.”“The flag was in the strip club?” Asked Jules.“Hell yeah...” George’s mind was sunk deep in the recollection, “They were all over this thing!”Jules and Roni screamed, claiming the pole was now STD ridden and crabs and pubic lice were crawling on it at that very moment and just being near it they were all getting a higher risk for HIV and shit like that. So they agreed with paranoid Marty that it had to go.While Jules, in her giggly phase, was giggling at them, George and Roni helped Marty maneuver the giant McDanger STD Flag through the tiny bathroom window where they thought it would land in the alley by the trash bins. Key word: They thought.Our room was really, above the patio off the continental breakfast buffet room. The patio overlooked the ocean and was right on the sidewalk next to the entrance of the hotel. I was on the other side of the glass eating a muffin when I see right in front of me, a flag descending from Heaven, with a crudely drawn picture of me on a stripper pole sucking a dick, it was definitely a severed dick! And I choked on the muffin. John laughed. I choked more! And just when I thought I wasn’t choking enough...ENTER CYCLIST. He comes peddling down the sidewalk, avoids the flag and keeps going. That particular cyclist was not Bart.We ran out onto the patio. ENTER BART and he does not see the flag and he runs right into it and swerves a few seconds then collapses onto the sidewalk.“Use the bike lane! Asshole!” I heard a woman’s voice from above yell. It may have been Bart’s guardian angel. But it sounded a lot like Roni.The previous biker turned around and peddled to the fallen man yelling, “Bart! You cool?”Bart got up, dusted off his spanx, got back on and rode away. Probably thinking, “Yep. Same cyclist bullshit as usual.”The way I describe drugs it may seem like they’re awesome. That’s because they are. But the thing about drugs is... they make you get shitty tattoos and injure cyclists.(Just look at Tyson or Armstrong.)We laughed about it periodically throughout the day. We had a good last day, we went to the beach and relaxed. We chilled in the room and drank and listened to Al Green. George said Al Green was good to get drunk to, but I always knew he had a bit of a crush on him.We went out to dinner, shopped around town. It was a good night.George and I got the room to ourselves for our designated sex night and we used it to our advantage.Around three AM as we were going to bed, we were just lying super close to each other, not saying much.I felt George put one hand on the side of my face and run his fingers through my hair. “You know you’re the love of my life. Right?”“Life is very long,” I whispered.“TS Eliot,” he mumbled out of habit.“Right. So what are you saying, George? You want to grow old with me?”He got closer to me, “I don’t see myself growing old. I never have. You’re all I have right now and this is it for me.”I got angry, “George. What are you talking about? Do you realize what you’re saying?” I could hear him breathing, “You’re telling me that you’ll have me for the rest of your life but I won't have you. You’re saying you’re going to leave me.”“I can’t control it.”“Yes you can. You cannot do that to me. George, is this what you were thinking about last night?”“Just... the PCP and the DMT. It wasn’t like the other drugs, or drinking. It reminded me too much of heroin. It reminded me of all the things in me I can’t escape from. It wasn’t a drug that made me forget what I hate about myself, it shouted everything wrong with me, right at me. Right in my face.”I held on to him, “George, you promised me. You’re not going down that again. You aren’t going to leave me.”“I can avoid heroin. But the thoughts are there. They’re mine. I can’t stop how I feel sometimes.”“Let me then,” I begged him, “I’ll stop it.” He started to cry. For the first time I actually heard him cry, not just saw him tear up. I pulled him in tight, “If I have to talk to you every night for the rest of my life to ensure you make it through whatever it is you go through, George, I will. I’ll talk to you until you’re three thousand and five. I promise.” I laid my head on his chest and whispered to him as I felt his breathing go down, “I’ll be with you forever.”“Bates...”“I’m going to be with you forever. I want to be with you forever.” I really meant it.

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JULY
The reality of what I told him sunk in around early July when we were separated again. But I had to do it. When you love someone, you have to do it.
He’d been going in and out of his anxiety or depression, but it usually only lasted a day or so. It was hard for me because it was new and I just missed my George so much. My George was being taken from me by a dark monster of a disease called depression. And I could see it in him that he didn’t want to be sad, he wanted to be himself too. But you’re never yourself when you’re depressed. You can't just get happy. That’s what depression is, it’s a type of possession. You’re still in there but you’re screaming to be set free. You don’t want it but it’s inside you and it’s a part of you. George had become like that, and I tried everything I could. I played video games with him, told him how much I loved him, I talked with him every night in bed or on the phone, I took him places, I told him jokes, I bought him journals to write poetry in. Depression doesn’t care if you’re going to college, it doesn’t care if you’re in love, it doesn’t care if you have money, it simply demands for you to obey it and let it crush you. It crushed me too. He was pushing me away. He was shutting me out. Just like he did to Roni and just like she said he would do to me.And one day he told me he had packing to do for New York. I figured okay. But then he told me the same thing the next day. Then the day after that. I was missing him. And then I got a text from him.It’s not your fault.
I had never in my life been more frightened in my life. I immediately panicked. The world began to move in slow motion around me, though I’d never moved so fast in my life. I got to George’s house in record time, probably ran one too many red lights. I pounded on the door but his dad and Mel were both at work. No one answered. So I screamed George’s name. Still no answer. I considered dialing 911. But then I panicked again and broke in. I quickly found an unlocked window got it open, probably broke it, and ran upstairs.I felt like I was in one of those nightmares where you’re running so fast but getting nowhere, like your body is in a bowl of Jell-O. The air is so thick, everything around you goes by in a painstakingly slow blur and you cannot get to where you need to be. But I finally got to his room. I flew in and there he was.He was on his bed, eyes red, crying, his face pale and his breathing nearly nonexistent. His room was a mess, he’d gone insane. Destroyed everything he could. Save, I noticed, the work of art that was our coffee-non-table. I was shaking as I slowly approached his bed, realizing he was still semi-conscious because his eyes were following me. When I got to the side of his bed I looked down and saw that his arm was still tied off. In one shaking hand he had the syringe, but the needle was just barely poking into his arm. His thumb was on the plunger.I was in shock, so much so I didn’t even notice right away that he was talking to me. But I don’t think he knew I was really there. He thought he was talking to a hallucination.“I’m sorry Bates...” he sobbed quietly, “I need to do this. Just let me do this.”I grabbed the syringe from his weak trembling hand and threw it across the room, then untied his arm. That’s when he noticed I was real and he went even more mad. He screamed and pushed me and tried to hide his face, his red embarrassed shamed face.“Bates! Stop it! Let me go!” I held his arms at his sides until he caught his breath. He hung his head.Then it was my turn to go mad. I dropped my hold on him. He was so limp there, I thought the worst. Fear sat in me and waited to turn into some other emotion, and that wait drove me insane. As soon as he looked up I let all my emotions overtake me. When you do that, anger usually gets the upper hand and shuts off all else. I punched him in the face. He was so high he didn’t feel anything. “You son of a bitch!” I screamed at him, “You promised me! You promised yourself! You promised your mom, your dad, all of us who love you! Why are you doing this?” He had no pain in his eyes, just fear. I had scared him.I sat on the bed and held him into me and let him cry, “I’m sorry.” I said. “You don’t need this. You have me,” I was starting to feel like I wasn’t enough for him. My crippling fear of rejection and my abandonment issues took over and I cried too, “Why am I not enough? Why do you need to get high? You can talk to me.”I let him go and watched him for a long long time as he tried to gain enough concept of the reality we were in to respond to me.He finally looked at me, a bit more clarity in his eyes, “You’re mad at me.”“I could never be mad at you for what you have to go through, that would be selfish of me. I’m just scared right now.”“I’m always scared,” he said to me, “I’m always scared when I’m not with you. But lately... I feel like I’m also scared to be near you. I’m hurting you. I’m going to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you.”“You never could.”“I just did!” He yelled. “One day Bates, I’m going to hurt you worse than this.”I wasn’t listening. “You need to stop. Everything. No drugs of any kind, no drinking, none of it. You’ll see a therapist and we’ll figure it out—”“You don’t fucking understand me!!” He yelled. He had turned into something I never knew. It wasn’t him talking, it was the depression, “I can’t see a therapist! I don’t want to know what’s wrong with me! I don’t want to be the schizophrenic or the manic depressive or the drug addict! I just want to be me! But I can’t know who that is, because I hate him! I hate myself! I hate myself so fucking much! I hate a lot of shit in this world. But there is nothing. Nothing! Else I hate more than I hate myself! Those other drugs hide all of that, all of the things in me that I hate!”“But heroin brings it out. You told me that. So why do you need to get high?”He ignored me, “And you do the same thing. I’m not afraid when I’m with you! I don’t feel worthless with you! But I love you more than you love me. I can’t be with you. I don’t want to ruin you. That’s why I just had sex with you, because I knew once I loved you I’d ruin you. That’s what always happens. But you don’t love me anymore.”I leaned closer, “How could you say that?”“Or at least...” he wiped his eyes, “You won’t love me when I tell you...”“Tell me what?”“I told you, I don’t do heroin to get high,” I leaned back and froze. Tears spilled from his eyes as he stared right at me and admitted, “Bates, I was trying to kill myself.”I nodded. I got off the bed and grabbed his arm. I dragged him away with me. The entire walk he kept crying and asking what I was doing, where I was taking him. I put him in the car in the passenger seat, I got in the front seat and we drove away.It was silent the first mile. Then reality set in and I broke down. I pulled over and covered my face so he couldn’t see me cry.I moved my hands and watched the traffic zip by us from the side of the road. Then I looked at him, staring at me with his sad eyes. I sat up and took his hand. “I’m not mad at you, George. But you broke my heart today.” He nodded and looked down, “Look at me.” He did.I shook my head and told him, “How dare you think for one second that I don’t need you as much as you need me. I can’t live without you.”That’s all it took. He sat up and turned to look out the front window. “Let’s go.” He knew right then where it was I was talking him.
Hospitals have a policy where after suicide attempts you’ve got to stay at least a night. But due to George’s history, they knew it would be more than that.When he was being taken away he asked if they would let him say goodbye to me one more time. They let him and he stood in front of me. He couldn’t even look me in the eye. “I’m sorry.”I couldn’t tell him it was okay, because it wasn’t.“I’ll try.”“That’s all I can ask,” I said, “I’m proud of you.” I gave him a hug and one last quick kiss. “Next time I see you, you better be George again. My George.” That made him smile.“I promise.” And he left.
I had to explain what happened to his dad once he got home from work. It was twice as painful seeing him go through the emotions of having to deal with this again. “You never think your own son would go into a psychiatric hospital for a fourth time.”“Fourth time?”“I’ve got to go see him, or at least see if they’ll let me see him. Bates, you did the right thing. I’m so glad he has a friend like you.”“He’s more than just my friend, Mr. Lysander. I love him.”He nodded, “I’m glad.” And he left.
But I wasn’t done. I went down to The Leaf and managed to find Cale. I didn’t tell him what happened but I did convince him to admit to me that he had in fact sold George the heroin that he had tried to kill himself with. The dude had the nerve to ask if I wanted to buy from him as well.I beat the living shit out of that dude.I was seeing so much red, I couldn’t stop. I honestly thought I’d kill him or at least land him in the hospital. But when I got off of him and the red cleared away, I remembered how wimpy and white I was. He was moaning and bleeding but not in the way I had felt I was hurting him. I thought I was hurting him so badly because he had hurt me so bad. I thought I was killing him because I thought he had tried to kill George. I left him there.
I had to tell Roni and all of them. They were so surprised. They never would have thought. They couldn’t even imagine. It was then I realized how well George hid his depression from everyone except me.George spent weeks in psychiatric care and drug rehabilitation programs. I spent most of the summer alone.
The way I describe drugs it may seem like they’re awesome. And that’s because they can be. But the thing about drugs is... they will eventually take the people you love away from you.

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AUGUST I didn’t visit him in the hospital. I felt like that’d be too much for him while he was trying to recover. But he called, and he left me messages. They were hard to listen to up until the very end. He got out near the end of August. His first night home his dad told me he wanted just family there. His brothers drove in and stayed too. The next day his dad called me and said I could go over but I didn’t. George’s dad dropped him off at my house the day after that and I waited o n the sidewalk for him. The photonegative of the person I drove to the hospital stepped out of the car and smiled at me. It was my George again. I realized that’s what I was so afraid of this whole time. I was afraid the hospital I took him too would make him worse. He hated those places, it scared him, being psychoanalyzed, so I imagined when he’d come back he’d either be a broken George or a new George I didn’t know. But old George came back to me. It was like someone had set the reset button, he hadn’t changed, he’d gotten better. My fear was gone.We hugged for so long until his dad told us he was leaving and he’d be back in a few hours. But I never wanted George to leave again.As soon as his car pulled away we went inside. My mom hugged him and kissed him and told him she was so glad he was back. He smiled and agreed. We went to the guest house where I had a surprise waiting for him.We walked in and he smiled widely at the table, “You didn’t.”I walked over to the table and handed him a plate, “Oh yes I did.”And we ate honey walnut shrimp together and watched Viper. It was perfect. “This is the best therapy session I’ve had since this whole thing. And I’m talking since I first even went to therapy when I was a kid.” He very cautiously kissed me, “Thank you.”“What was the therapy there like? Or do you not want to talk about it?”He shifted uncomfortably, “Group stuff was okay at first. I wasn’t quite cooperative but they didn’t force me. The one on one stuff I fought pretty hard,” he looked at me, “It wasn’t good, if you wanna know the truth. I hit some lows. And then once I got into the one on ones they...”“You don’t have to talk about it.”But he did, “They diagnosed me. Which has always been my worst fear. Turns out I am a drug addict. Clinically depressed. And have generalized anxiety disorder... the list would probably be longer if I opened up more.”“Why didn’t you?”“I couldn’t... But they got me on medications. Which I also hated and fought each time rounds began at seven. Long story short, I’m an asshole and they have strong dudes. I pissed off the therapists and most nurses so bad they got the beefy orderlies to give me my medication. And escort me to my therapist, psychiatrist, the occasional padded cell.”“Those things are real?”He shut his eyes at the memory, “Yup. But they’re nice. It’s like a little time-out from the world. I met some okay people. Some not so okay. My roommate’s name was John.”“Really? Well it’s a common name.”He smiled a little bit, “John The Baptist.” I started to crack up. He even joined me after a while which made me feel a zillion times better, “I’m serious. He was very convincing though. It made me feel better that even people so holy and Godly get the crazies now and then,” I laughed more. “And... don’t get mad at me. But I did have sex with a nurse. And like one sex addict. She fucked my brains out, it was insane. But it meant nothing, and I was just missing you so bad. I’m really sorry. If it makes you feel better I got in a shit ton of trouble.”I didn’t know what to say. I think I was so happy to see him back and better that I ignored all angered feelings toward him so I just was like, “Oh.”“The nurse blew me a few times too...”“That’s crazy,” I stared off into space.“It meant nothing...” I kept staring into space, then noticed his eyes never stopped watching me. I turned to him, not sure if I’d be able to see him the same. I watched a smirk spread all across his face, then his stupid grin. He laughed his stupid annoying laugh because he is a giant fucking jerk face. I yelled at him, “Fuck. You. You fucking. Bitch.”He fell over, “Oh, shit! I had you going for so long! You were so fucking pissed I could see it!” I lightly punched him and pulled him back up, “I would never. I missed you and I thought about you every day, I swear to God, babe.” He held my hand.I felt my eyes get wet, “I’m proud of you. I meant what I said. About being with you forever? We just need to get through these two years and then I’ll be with you.”He tilted his head and looked at me sincere and severely, “Bates. I meant what I said about you being the love of my life and how I feel so much better when I’m with you. But you have to understand that when I’m alone, I still feel like shit. And these things, they’re going to happen. I need to try to be happy even when I’m not with you. I can’t depend on drugs and distractions to make me happy. I can’t rely on you only. I need to rely on myself.”“And that’s what New York will do.”He looked away, “Two years?”“Two years.” I hoped he wasn’t doubting his ability to make it two years but he was. I tried to cheer things up, “So how was the rehab stuff? You’re sober?”He laughed, “Yeah, man. The only drugs I’m on are the ones prescribed to me. It fucking sucks. I’m going to college. It’s my first year of college and I can’t do any of that college shit.”“Yeah but imagine all the other shit you’ll get to be able to do and accomplish now.”“Yeah that helps.”We spent the last week of summer making up for all that we’d missed out on. We went skateboarding everyday, played video games every afternoon, had sex every evening, hung out with our friends each night. Then we’d come home and we’d talk and make out and have sex again and lay together and sleep together and we just didn’t waste an ounce of the love we had for each other in our hearts on being apart except the days George had meetings at Free and Clear, his rehab group or with his therapist. But I’d call him or meet up with him again when he’d be finished. We had two years to be apart, we weren’t rushing into things.The day he left we were in his room. I’d spent the night there the night before and we made love for the last time until we didn’t know when. Then morning came, something we’d dreaded but had to face once it came. Reality is a demanding, conceited bitch.As I sat on his bed watching him get his final things together, he asked me, “Do you ever wish we were just like this from the beginning? We’d have more time that way.”I shook my head, “No way. I don’t regret anything we did.”He lifted up his backpack, “Neither do I.” He’d said his goodbyes to everyone else the night before. John had said goodbye to all of us a week earlier before he went to Marquette. It was tough seeing Jules the way she was, knowing that would be me in a few days. Marty was heading out to Tisch the day after George. I figured I’d be crying considerably less for him, however.Mel and George’s dad were in the car on the driveway waiting and George and I were on the porch kissing each other goodbye in private. “I love you,” I told him when we stopped.“I love you too, Bates.” He held my chin in his hand and leaned his forehead on mine. “They say love is for the feebleminded. Only fools fall in love. And feeble fool, my darling, you make me feel so dumb.” After one last kiss, we said goodbye and he left. I watched him walk ahead of me, his Judd Nelson coat blowing behind him. Then I watched him drive away. Repeating in my mind, what George recited to me, I realized how long he’d been telling me he loved me.

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SEPTEMBER  I think it was the twentieth of September when George called to tell me about Marauders. I answered the phone, “Yo, man. How’s it going?” “It’s pretty cool right now. My fucking dorm mate still talks in his sleep though,” he reported. “Has he been saying anything interesting?” “It’s not even English half the time!” We both laughed. I was in my living room watching a stand up special by some musical comedy girl, “Yeah it’s mellow here too. I’ve been working at The Sunset Room a lot. Not getting paid but it’s great still.” I could both hear and feel his smile, “That’s awesome, babe. I’m so happy for you.” “What about you?” I asked, “Writing anything or performing?” “I do some poetry at the lounge or the theaters here. I’ve gone out with some classmates to other places out in the city a few times. It’s cool preforming there. Those places are really different from The Leaf. They’re actually performers. Not whacked out teenagers or homeless schizophrenics.” We laughed again, “Actually... I met some musicians. I’ve been jamming with them a bit. A drummer, bassist. I do guitar, keyboard, vocals. We’ve got another guitar player too—” “Sounds like a full on band.” “We’re called Marauders.” I sat up, “You’re in a band?” “Your boyfriend is in a band. Are you hard yet?” “I’ve been hard since I saw your name on caller ID, to be honest.” “Oh have you now...” In the background I heard an angry Indian accent, “Do not be having phone sex right now. I have lines I’m trying to memorize. Tell your boyfriend to keep it in his panties.” “Was that Aahlaad?” Aahlaad was his sleep talking dorm mate. “Yeah, he’s a delight. He’s yelling at me for being so sexy with my sexy boyfriend.” “Screw you!” Aahlaad yelled from the background, “I have auditions. Not all of us can just stumble out of bed every morning and land every role, ace every essay, and have perfect hair.” “Tell Aahlaad I feel him,” I said. George purred softly, “Why don’t you feel yourself?” “George!” He and I had managed to keep up a somewhat steady routine of phone sex a few nights a week. But not usually when his dorm mate was there or when I was sitting on my mom’s couch. “Tell me more about Marauders.”“Well we usually do shows here on campus but we’ve done some bars, mostly covers when we do those though. I write the songs mostly. It’s going good, we might actually go somewhere.” He said with so much hopefulness.“I wish I could see your shows. Don’t go giving into your fan girls and run off without me.”“I should be telling you the exact same thing.” “Girls don’t go for comedians, they go for rockstars.”“Yes they do too. But too bad for them anyways. Because the one hottest comedian and the one hottest rockstar are madly in love with each other so, sucks for fan girls everywhere,” he joked.“I miss you. It sucks you won't be here until November, you’re going to miss the baby. You should see my mom. She looks like she swallowed a planet.”“Yeah... tell her I’m sorry. I can’t wait to meet baby Vi once I’m out there. Send me tons of pictures. So everything’s fine out there? School’s good?”“Yep. And you?”“School’s great.”“And how are things on the other end? Are your tattoos holding up?” That was our code.He sighed, “I wish you were here at nights to talk to. But they’ve held up fine.”“Remember you can always call me. Any hour of the night, I’ll answer for you. Okay, babe?” I reminded.“I know. Thanks.”“I’ll let you go because I know it’s late out there and you should be studying.”“I never study.”“And look where that landed you.”“Ivy League, bitch!”“No it isn't. Fuck you.”“Fine. But, I love you.”“I love you.”“Call soon.”“Of course. Bye, babe.”“Bye.”

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OCTOBERAfter my mom had Violet I was home a lot, I stopped going out with Roni and Jules on weekends to help out. I figured it was good because when George came back I’d want to be at least semi-sober for him. The rehab program told him to get rid of all the friends he used with. That, I assumed, meant all of us, but George said because there was more to us than drugs and we spent more time together sober than high, we’d be okay. But still I tried to help out.And it was cool, I liked having a sister. Even though she just cried and shat a lot. She was so fucking fat, it was so cute. I called her Fats and I still do sometimes but she hates that now because its no longer an accurate description. Also she’s at the age where she hates pretty much everything. It was cool to be with Lance, seeing him experience it all for the first time. I was holding Violet when I called George to check in, “Say hi to Uncle George, baby Vi.” She said nothing because she didn't know how to talk yet. “Fats, say something.” “Don’t call her fat!” My mom yelled from the kitchen, “She’ll get a negative body image!”“Tell your mom I said hi,” George said on the other end.“Mom. George said you didn’t lose enough baby weight yet,” I yelled.She knew by now that I was always joking, “Oh! Hi George sweetie!”I said back to George, “She says you smell like fish oil.”“I did not!” She for some reason still thought George hadn’t caught on to the trend that I was joking with him as well.“So how are you? It’s nearly Halloween and you haven’t called much. Is everything okay?”I heard nothing on the other end for a while and then, “Yeah. We’ve got a competition on Halloween, Marauders, so I’ve been busy. Writing, rehearsal, recording...”“Recording?”“Yeah, I met a guy who’s second cousin works in a recording studio. So we were able to buy a few hours in it.”“You’re making a real deal CD?” I asked super excited.“Not a real deal CD but a real deal demo. But we already have a few people asking for it, people who’ve been to our shows and stuff. We might be signed by next year or maybe even this one if we’re lucky.” He said it all so casually. But I was through the roof.“George, I am so happy for you!”“What is he doing? What’s going on?” Asked my mom.I put the phone to my chest, “He’s making a sex tape with Angelina Jolie and Kristen Stewart. Spike Lee is directing it. Randy Newman’s doing the soundtrack.”“Jonathan, you’re not funny.”“Yes I am,” I lifted the phone back up, “What are you calling it?”“I dunno. Just Marauders.”“And the songs?”“I’m writing a lot.”“Okay... then I guess I’ll let you get back to it.” I was about to hang up but then I had to ask because I was worried, “George? These guys in your band. They know about all that you’ve got going on, right?”“To an extent. But it’s been fine so far.”“Are they cool?”I heard him sigh, “They’re great. You’d like them,” then he told me, “They’re just like me. Everyone here is.”Violet started to fuss so I couldn’t really assess the statement he’d just relayed or investigate the sad tone he said it in, “I’ve got to go. Fats is getting all bitchy.” My mom feared somehow her small child would know what I was saying despite having very limited neural pathways at that point and yelled to me, “Jonathan!” “I’ll call you soon, okay?” I promised George. “Please.” He said softly, “I really miss you.” Violet began to scream, “I miss you too. I’ll call tomorrow. You can call whenever you need to and I’ll see you Thanksgiving.” “Right. Love you.” “Love you too.” NOVEMBERMarauders won the Halloween contest. I think it was November fifteenth they recorded their entire demo. George told me he’d send me a copy. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it sooner and why he never told me to, but I looked them up on the internet and found a video of the competition.Their sound was very eighties. Not Cyndi Lauper, Madonna, Bangles stuff though. More like Dexy’s Midnight Runners, Tears For Fears, Smiths type stuff. But George had a very intriguing stage persona. It was hot. Way hot, I’ll give him that. He fucked the shit out of music. He literally was stage sex, making love to each song and every word he sang and every note he played. He put his heart, dick, and soul into the entire set. He was completely immersed in the sound. But he wasn’t him. He was very dark, slow moving, his eyes always cast down, looking at his feet or guitar or bass or piano, whatever he was playing. The songs sounded great, but looking into them they were really... deep. I realized he’d never told me to look them up because he didn’t want me to see him. Not like that.And I don’t want to sound like a mom but I did not like the kids in the band. They looked like scoundrels. I think they were taking advantage of George’s talents. He was clearly the best one in the band, I mean they were good, but George was professional. He could have gotten signed that day and sold billions of albums to horny deep teenagers. But the other guys were basement garbage at best. But that could have just been on a scale of basement garbage to George Lysander; A scale on which all beings of Earth always get no higher than basement garbage. We are all basement garbage compared to George Lysander. Then I got the CD.And in between the faster more eighties rock songs were slow haunting piano and George songs I knew too well. Some lyrics I recognized as his old stuff but they were different somehow. One song went:The audience, the shows, it’s all therapy to meThe criticize, psychoanalyze, and try to get me to seeThey scrutinize and try to read the lines in betweenThey try to understand and know what I’m thinkingBut they can’t grasp any thought I’ve hadThey’ll never know just how deep it goesIt’s catchy and it’s harmless. Or so it seemsBut there’s always going to be anotherMonster waitin’ inside of meI’ve been a sinning way too longto even give a damnI know I’m damned and that’s okayI’ll take the devil’s handI do a lot of drugs enough to stun a GodI got high with Jesus Christ and soaredto Heaven above.They think the devil is my buddyThey think I’m high everydayBut these are just the rumorsand they bullshit that they sayThey don’t know I’m Jewishor that my piss is cleanThey’ll never know. That’s just not how I seem.They’re always looking for some deeperbullshit in betweenBut they can’t grasp any thought I’ve hadThey’ll never know just how deep it goesIt’s catchy and it’s harmless. Or so it seemsBut there’s always going to be anotherMonster waitin’ inside of mePerhaps if I lift the veil they’d finally seeThat I’m just afraid of myselfas they are afraid of meI’m not trying to play a part, I’m only trying to hideAll the real me inside of me.The only show I’m putting onis to hide myself from what I’m trying to be.But they can’t grasp any thought I’ve hadThey’ll never know just how deep it goesIt’s catchy and it’s harmless. Or so it seemsBut there’s always going to be anotherMonster waitin’ inside of meAnd if that wasn’t hard enough. A few tracks after that was another eerie piano song. Just George and the notes, his voice and their sounds intermingling to create a sea of chills and goose bumps. The band began to back him up toward the end to take it all home in one sea of ear-euphoria. But it was the song lyrics that got me, it was a cover of a classic. You Are My Sunshine.No joke, I listened to it and immediately after called George, literally weeping. He answered and hearing his voice stunned my vocal chords and I just made a crying sound. Crying to him was not my intention, I could tell he was worried right away, “Bates? Bates?!”I cried into the phone, “George. Baby, please come home.”“What’s wrong?”“I just...” I didn’t want to let him know I was worried about losing him again, “I miss you. I need you here right now. I want to talk to you and see you and feel you. Please come home to me.”I heard him sigh long and loud. I instantly stopped crying and realized how selfish I was being. He said, whimpering a bit, “I’m coming home soon, Bates. I promise. Thanksgiving? Remember? Baby, I’ll see you then.”I tried to calm myself down, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”“It’s okay. Honestly, you’ve been the strong one, so much this whole time. I was starting to think... It’s just nice knowing that when I get home you’ll be waiting.”“I’m always waiting.”“Just... two years.”“Two years,” I repeated, wiping my tears and trying to stand taller. “Then honey walnut shrimp again.”“Forever,” I reminded him.“Did you get the CD?” He asked, a worried tone in his voice.“I did. That’s why I called. You don’t sound like you.”“Band image, Bates. That’s all it is.” He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself more than me.Thanksgiving couldn’t have come faster. George came home. We spent the afternoon, the entire afternoon, in my guest house. I’ll let you fill in the blanks. Do with that image what you may.It was like when he came back from New York the first time but better because this time we knew we loved each other and we could say it out loud and the other would say it back. We drove to Marty’s when it got dark, where he, Roni, Jules and John were. John had come in that same day, Marty a few days prior. And on the drive we were just talking like best friends again.“Remember when we first met at Roni’s and we kissed and went upstairs and...”He raised an eyebrow, “Yes?”“And we were just talking. We got to know each other and then we, well you, started to kiss me again. I’d never been with someone like that before. Do you know what the only thoughts running through my head was?”“Hmmm...” He thought then turned to me, “Please God, don’t let me come yet?”I squeezed my eyes shut (it was a red light, it was okay). “Shut the hell up.” He laughed at himself, so pleased.“What was it?”The light turned green, “I just kept thinking, ‘Oh my God. I’m gay. I’m gay. This is it. I am all gay, all the time, way gay, all day, gay, gay, so gay. Gay.” I looked at him and he was still smiling.“Are you?” He asked.I said, “No, I’m just in love. And that’s the thing. If I was gay, or if I am gay, I’m not ashamed at all. I don’t say I’m not gay because I don’t want to be. That’s not true. The thing is, I’m in love and it’s so great. And something that great doesn’t deserve to be categorized as a minority.” “In a perfect world, I think everyone would agree,” he kissed my hand. “I love you.”“I can’t believe you’re really here.” At the stop sign, I spent more than two full seconds with my foot on the break and my lips of George’s. I think that made him happy, hearing me being okay with being nothing. I will never understand the need people have to know everything. Why do we need to be anything? In the black and white world, George and I prefered the mystery of our own ambiguous existence in that world made of shades of grey in between the lines of everyone else, printed on God’s Daily Journal. We were stars, not constellations. We were one giant mess, like an inkblot on a page, undefined, and we were just fine.Everyone was happy to be reunited again. John and Jules were all over each other. But I felt for them. I kept looking at George to make sure he was really there. Touching him just to make sure he wouldn’t leave. We told stories, caught up, reminisced, went right back to being just a ragtag team of unlikely fucking idiots.I had family over for Thanksgiving. So did George. We both ate too much, met up later and were too full to do anything but lay in his bed in his old room and watch Viper. But being able to sleep with him again was something I honestly thanked God for. It was a few more days of normalcy. Spending time with our friends, hanging out, making out, enjoying our time together. Then he was gone again. That’s when it got worse. We were fine while it lasted. DECEMBERGeorge stopped calling in December. I always had to call him. I took it as a good sign, maybe he was taking his therapist’s advice and trying to attain happiness on his own without having to depend on getting it from something or someone else; From drugs or me. But when I’d call he sounded... He sounded the way he sang with Marauders. Dark, solemn, given up. He said it was school stress, band stuff, missing me and his family. I called Marty, “Hey, have you been checking up on George?” “I’m doing fine. I miss you too,” he replied, I could tell he was in the middle of eating. “Sorry Marty. I’d call more often to check up on you too but you know how it is,” I said as I squeezed the bridge of my nose. After some chews he responded, “No I get it. Uh, Bates... he and I don’t roll with the same crowd. I’m not in the same building as him and we have conflicting schedules. I knew this would happen, we’re on two different tracks. I do comedy and theater he does music and lit. It’s not the same.” “But you’ve got to see him sometimes.” “I try, honestly. But he seems unwilling. It’s that band, man. It’s a great band, they rock I’ve seen shows. But he’s...” “He’s what?” “He’s high out of his mind when he performs. Probably when he writes too.” “He’s sober.” He didn’t say anything back for a while, “I don’t know, Bates.” I set the phone down for a little, I didn’t want to believe him. “He wouldn’t lie to me.” “Drug addicts lie about being sober. Depressed people lie about being okay.” “Yeah, but Marty, he wouldn’t lie to me.” I said sternly. “You should talk to him.” I was probably taking my frustration out on him too much, “What the hell do you think I’m trying to do? I’m doing all I can. I’m not enough I guess.” “Don’t beat yourself up. It’s been a long stretch, he misses you and I might be wrong.” “You are wrong,” I told him. Because that’s the thing; Drug addicts may live in a bubble of believing their own bullshit, but so do the people who love them. I kept telling George to call me. I was the one who kept calling him. Then finally came winter break and the end of his first semester. He came home. He smiled and was happy and nearly himself again. I couldn’t tell if he was faking it or not. So he nailed it. I wasn’t suspicious even though I had every right to be. I should have been.I spent Chanukah with George and his family a few nights. His mom’s side of the family even drove up from southern California. I got to meet his aunt who looked just like his mom from what I’d seen in pictures. I met his little cousin Hans who despite having a dorky name was pretty cool. His grandmother flew in, not his grandfather though, he didn’t dare leave Brooklyn Heights this time of year. It was cool hearing George speak Spanish, then Hebrew, and then English. I got all impressed and jittery.He took me by the hand and lead me to where his grandmother was sitting on the couch, “Bobeshi, we’re going to talk in English because Bates isn’t Jewish.”Hard of hearing she yelled, “He’s not?”“No,” he said back as we sat on the couch next to her, “He’s...” He looked at me, “What the hell are you?”I shrugged, “I’m religious. That’s all I know. I go to church with Roni sometimes but that’s it.”His grandma interrupted me, “He looks Jewish!”George laughed, “I know. That’s what attracted me to him. He’s my boyfriend. The one I told you about?”I held out a hand, “It’s nice to meet you Edith.”She gave me a little shake, “Bates is not your first name, is it?” I shook my head, “Good. What is it then?”“Jonathan.”“Why don’t you go by that? It’s so nice!” She had the best old lady voice I’d ever heard. She sounded like she should be smoking cigars and dealing cards at an underground poker game for crime bosses in the Brooklyn Jewish mafia.“My mom calls me Jonathan. But in third grade there was another kid named John in mine and George's class. He convinced me to change it. I didn’t want to be John B. Because that sounded weird. So I went with Bates. But he still calls me Other John.”She laughed, “Boys are so petty. They fight all the time. You should have heard the twins,” she pointed at them and they both turned around in that weird twin synchronicity, “Yelling, ‘I’m the tallest’ ‘I’m the handsome one’ I’m the smart one’. Boys are so petty.” She pointed a bony old lady finger at them, “You fought all the time.” She gave attention back to me, “But Bates is okay. Pick your battles in this world. You were the bigger man.”“Thanks.”She wagged her finger again, “Jonathan’s a good name though. It sounds very professional. Very respectable. You get a lot of jobs with a name like that.”I explained, “Well professionally I go by J.J. Bates.”Her face light up, “Ooh. I like J.J. That’s a name! Not like this kid,” she shot a glare at George, “Changing the whole family’s name to Lysander. After a play. How haughty. Lysagora is beautiful!” And she yelled at George for that for some time and he just laughed.“I like Chanukah,” I told George as he got ready for bed. I was sitting on his bed going over the last few nights in my head. “It’s my favorite part about Judaism.”He laughed at me from the bathroom where he was brushing his teeth, “It’s the only thing you know about Judaism.”“Well maybe if you talked about it more I’d have new favorites. What’s your favorite thing?” I asked.He came back in his room and laid down on the end of the bed by my feet. “I don’t know. I don’t like the traditions, like the ritualistic stuff. But there’s teachings I remember from shul and yeshiva... Tikkun Olam is one that I always thought was cool. It’s just a little thing. It’s like,” he tried to dumb it down for me and used his weird hand gestures again, “The world is in parts and pieces, like it’s broken and we’ve got to put it together. But I saw it more as like... first you break it, then you make it how you want. Life isn’t a straight line from life to death. It’s a series of options and we reach out and grab them as they go by and we take them as they are to create our own thing. Our own lives. There were pieces floating by me that I never reached out for,” he looked at me and dropped his hands, “Until I met you. I made a life I never thought I’d have.”“What kind of life?” I asked.He smiled, “A good one. One with happiness and mutually shared affection.” I still think about that, these days, sometimes. Some things in George’s life he sure as hell reached hard for. Other things inevitably crashed into his world. They had no business being inevitable, but George gave up and allowed them to be. Those things sent his world spiraling out of orbit, out of his own control. Violet had her first Christmas with us and with George. Coincidentally, it was George’s first Christmas too. Then it was new years eve. There was a new years eve party at this girl Roni’s house...“A year ago today,” I whispered to George as we sat on Roni’s stairs. Roni’s house was packed. I always thought people in college partied different from people in high school. But it wasn’t much different. It was exactly like a high school party in every way except it smelled like Drakkar Noir rather than Axe Bodyspray. George just nodded and smiled. “What’s wrong?” I was concerned all night I had to ask, “You’ve been different. Not just tonight but the last few times I called, this break, all of it. What’s going on?” “Nothing.” He assured me, “School stress, Marauders going places, it’s just a lot at once. I’m starting to see why you feared change so much. I’d give anything just to be in that moment, us on the beach in Santa Cruz, forever.” I sat closer to him, “Why that moment?” “It was the last good one we had. Before I started to spiral gain. Before I was psychoanalyzed and diagnosed. Before I was sober. It was the last bit of normalcy we had. I just miss those days. They went by too fast.” I put my hand on his arm and felt his Judd Nelson coat, the one constant, the one thing about George that never changed. “We’re going to have so many more memories together. We should have memories tonight. But you’re being kind of lame.” My honesty shook him out of it and he laughed. “I know. I’m sorry,” he hugged me, “A year ago today we met. That doesn’t seem like enough.” It wasn’t. That’s the fucked up thing about time. It never feels like enough time, because there fucking isn’t enough time. There’s never enough time in the world. And that’s what’s so fucked up. JANUARY Our last night before George left, he spent at my place. He had to get up early the next morning to drive home, then get driven to the airport. I thought our last night would be sad and we’d talk about how much we’d miss each other and how we couldn’t wait for these two years to be done. But it was different. He smiled at me, lying beside me, running his fingers through my hair. He said, “I need to tell you something.” “You can tell me anything.” He said, “You really are the love of my life. I’ve been suffering since I could remember. I’ve always had issues with depression and I’ve always known that it would get to the point where it got. I never thought I’d get you. And I’m not just talking to you, Jonathan Bates the kid I had a weird crush on, I’m talking about you, the person who loves me and makes me unafraid of myself. I never thought I’d get someone like you. I never thought I’d actually be happy, I was never faking it in front of you. Every moment I had with you I was really genuinely happy. I can’t thank you enough.” I could just sense that stupid smirk right as it crept in, his tone shifting into something sweet but probably dirty, “Why do you make me so dumb, Bates?” With a small smile I scoffed and said to him, “It’s because you’re important to me, you piece of shit.” He smiled wide on all sides, crinkled his eyes and let out a laugh he’d been saving for a rainy day. That smile and that laugh, they light up the room together. It sent the night away and brought in our own day, the ghosts of darkness went toward the light. I kissed him, I couldn’t help it. “We’re so different, I never would have been able to understand how we’d work this well together.” “You said so yourself,” he reminded me, “The weirdnesses we hold inside us aren’t weird when we’re together. We’re opposite but that’s what I love. I don’t want to go back to school. Everyone there is just like me and I’m not being a hipster when I say I can’t stand being with people like me,” he laughed. I laughed too, “It’s a trigger for me. I don’t like being reminded of... myself.” “You have to go to school George. As much as I want you here, I want you to be happy on your own, and attain your dreams.” “We’ll be together forever soon. I know.” I was surprised that was all it took to get him to comply. “And any time you feel like you need to, just talk to me.” “When those triggers send me into spirals and I fall into my dark places, you are my sunshine, Bates. I never thought I’d have that.” He was smiling as he said this. “Nothing this disease does to me is your fault. You’ve done more than you could ever understand. Some things, you’ll never understand. Just know you made me happy every day.” For some reason, we were both happy. It wasn’t a sad moment. It was a good one. It was a treasured moment between us. “You’ve done the same for me,” I told him, “And I’ll see you soon. We’ll be together forever.” “Of course,” he promised me, “We’ll be together forever. Because I’m in love with you.” He kissed me goodnight and we fell asleep. He woke me up at five in the morning to tell me goodbye. I was half asleep when he shook my shoulder. “Morning, Sunshine.” “Hey,” I groggily croaked.“I’m leaving.” He said. I lifted myself up a little and barely opened my eyes. He was just a blurry ghost of a person in my eyes. “Have a safe flight.” “Will do,” he said, “I love you.” “I love you.” We kissed one last time and then he was gone. My phone started ringing at seven AM. It was George’s house phone. “Hello?” I answered. It was Mel, her voice was rushed and full of breath, “Is George there?” I immediately shot up, “No he’s not. He left. He went home. He’s at the airport, right?” Her shaky breathing was all I needed to hear to know something wasn’t right. She told me, “We can’t find him. Did he tell you anything before he left?” I was already up and getting dressed in a rushed manic panic, “He said he was going home. That was the plan, you guys were going to drive him to... Where is he? Where’s George?” Out of habit, after asking that question I immediately expected the answer. I needed that answer. She was crying now, “We don’t know. Bates, the police are here. We uh... we looked in his room and.” She gulped, “And DJ checked his meds. Bates, he wasn’t taking them. We’re worried he...” “I’m on my way. Or should I look for him? Have you guys checked the park or The Leaf, he goes there a lot.” “I think you should just come here,” She said honestly and full of fear, “The police are looking, he has the car, nothing else. He can’t get far. We aren’t expecting to find him altogether or...” She sobbed again. They weren’t looking for George. They were looking for a body. I hung up. I froze. And I must have blacked out and screamed because Lance came running in looking scared. “Jonathan, what’s going on?” His words just kept repeating in my mind. I didn’t know what was going on. I didn’t want to face what was going on. Everything had been fine last night. Everything was fine just hours ago and now the world was turned over and chaos was spilling into the void as everything in my life was about to change forever. “They can’t find George. They don’t know where he is.” I just gasped, saying it out loud in my own voice didn’t make it any more believable or easier to accept. Lance grabbed me, I must have looked like I was going to fall over or something, “Okay. Where should I drive you?” “I’ll go—” “No you are not driving right now, I’ll take you to their house. Let’s go.” “Dad, what if he’s out there? What if I can find him?” He looked right at me and said, “You don’t want to be the one that finds him.” Next thing I knew I was in the passenger seat. My mom was holding Violet on the driveway, watching us pull out. It wasn’t until we were driving away I saw her wipe tears from her eyes. When we were nearer to George’s house Lance told me, “Jonathan, no matter what happens, you’re going to be okay.” He looked at me, I didn’t look back. He focused back on the road and kept driving. I could hear slight crying in his voice, “I am so sorry.” The police cars were in the driveway and at first that didn’t alarm me until I saw Mel and David being escorted into one. Lance hadn’t even stopped the car fully when I opened the door and ran out. By the time I reached the driveway they were in the car and the doors were shut. The car pulled away, I watched, wondering what was happening, then not wanting to believe it. Neighbors were out too, all whispering, all gossiping about what I didn’t want to admit was the truth. I walked up to the path leading to the porch when I saw Sebastian coming out. He ran over to me, “Bates, did you hear everything yet?” I shook my head. “We found him.” I sighed, “Oh thank God.” But he didn’t look nearly as relieved as I felt. That immediately made me twice as worried as I was before. “No...” I started shaking, “No. No.” I felt behind me for something to catch my fall. Sebastian helped me and sat me down on the bench. “Where?” “Parked on some hill. He’s in the hospital.” “So he’s okay?” I asked. He said as if rehearsed, “They said he shot two fatal doses in his arm and another in his neck. He’s in a coma. He over dosed. And from what the police say and from our own understanding, it probably wasn’t entirely accidental.” I knew it wasn’t. He never did heroin to get high. “DJ’s already in the car, do you need us to drive you?” I sent Lance home. Well, Sebastian did and he told him what he told me. Then we drove to the hospital. I was in the ICU waiting room for a long time by myself or with one other; Mel or DJ or Sebastian. George’s dad never left and there was a two person limit in ICU rooms. They preferred family only, so I had to possibly come to terms with not being able to see him. I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. His dad and Mel both came out at the same time and entered the waiting room. I sat up and they sat across from me, George’s brothers came and sat next to them. I asked, “How is he?” Mel nodded, “The same. That’s what we came to talk to you about.” George’s dad told me, “When I went through... when we all went through this with his mother we knew that George wasn’t handling anything really well. And seeing her like that, he told me that he never wanted to be kept alive the way he is right now, the way his mom was. That’s not something a dad wants to hear from his youngest son but with his history I had to be prepared. And when we let his mother go, he didn’t handle it and that’s what got him into psychiatric care for the third time. And the week he was gone that’s when I realized that I had to prepare for if this happened.” Mel patted his knee as it got more difficult for him. He took a deep breath, “Tomorrow at noon we’re letting him go.” I was angry, “He might wake up.” Mel was honest, “They don’t see that as a possibility. They recommend we respect George’s wishes. It’s hard for us too, honey, we’re his family.” I started crying, “You don’t understand.” George’s dad interrupted me, “No I understand exactly. His mother was the love of my life. I had to watch her suffer, like you did. And I had to let her go.” He looked at Mel, “This is what he wants,” then back at me, “We’ll get through this.” Mel came and sat next to me and put her arm over my shoulder, “We’re going to get you in to see him one last time today. And when we let him go tomorrow, the doctors agreed to let you be there too.” Mel pressed the intercom button by the double doors leading to the ICU. “Yes? Who are you seeing?” She leaned into the speaker, “Room 13, George Lysander. I’m his mother I’m here with his boyfriend. He’s here to say goodbye.” “Understood,” the nurse said after some internal debate over ICU policy. The intercom beeped and I heard the doors unlatch. I walked through and turned around waiting for Mel. “Go,” she told me. “You’ll be okay.” I nodded and walked toward room 13. Looking around at the rooms with glass walls and thin privacy curtains, hearing all the mechanical beeps constantly repeating, seeing machines wheeled in and out of rooms, seeing old old old people, I realized this was the place George was going to die. He was going to die tomorrow. He would never cast another shadow, not his ghost or spirit, not even the memory of him, would take up physical space, stand in the light, and cast a shadow. George was going to become something or become a part of something I didn’t understand and I would stay right here; I’d stay the same. He had a breathing tube. His eyes were shut and he was propped up but still flat on his back. His heart monitor was... I don’t know, I’m not a doctor but it probably should have been better. His vitals were the same. I didn’t understand any of it, it didn’t matter. I sat next to him and stared for a while. I don’t know what started me talking. But I said to George, “You knew. You knew from the moment I met you that this was where you were heading and you hid it from me. From all of us. You didn’t want to hurt us, you knew you couldn’t get better. I’ll never understand.” I felt tears falling down my cheeks, “I like to think that maybe when we were together you had hope that you would beat it. But I think I just gave you an experience. I know it was one you enjoyed, I will never forget how happy we were...” That’s when I started to cry for real, “George you have to wake up. Do you hear me? Wake up, please.” I stood up and went closer to his side. I felt the top of his head and leaned into his ear, “George, it’s me. It’s Bates. Please wake up.” I laid my head next to his on the pillow until my crying stopped. I kept rubbing the top of his head, whispering how much I loved him. Then I... I don’t know, I got brave I guess. I stopped worrying about myself and I leaned into his ear again, “It’s Bates. George, I love you. And I have to let you go. But...” I took a deep breath, “I’m not going to be there when they do it. I can’t. So this is...” I did a little thinking, then decided, “This isn’t it. This isn’t goodbye. You’ll be with me and I’ll be with you. Forever. But George, you were my sunshine and the love of my life as well. I can’t thank you enough for loving me the way you did. You loving me, knowing what was going to happen to you, was the bravest thing anyone has ever done. And though you may think you were hurting me by being with me, knowing you were going to leave, George, you loved me too much and made me too happy to ever hurt me.”  They took George off of life support at 12:00 PM, January 5th; A month and two days before what would have been his nineteenth birthday. I didn’t go. I waited in the ICU waiting room with Roni that day.I had my head in my hands and put my elbows on my knees. Roni had been explaining to me all day how I couldn’t regret being with him, I couldn’t change how either of us felt, and that love isn’t always a cure all. It wasn’t unfortunate that I fell in love, it was unfortunate that the person I fell in love with was sick with something I could not cure. Sometimes that’s just the case. It wasn’t that I wasn’t enough, it was that his depression was too much. People think suicide is victimless and that overdosing isn’t worthy of pity. People think drugs and depression can be controlled but they can’t really once you let them control you, or at the very least, you can’t get back everything, the right way. Depression isn’t a controlled substance in the minds it effects, and addiction isn’t selfish it’s just truly unfortunate. That’s all it is. It’s just unfortunate, the things you let become inevitable that have no reason to be.“What time is it?” I asked Roni. She said, after a few seconds, “11:48.” I took a giant shaky breath and she leaned closer to me. “I didn’t say goodbye. I talked to him but I didn’t say goodbye.” “It’s not too late, they said you could go back—” “—I can’t. I just...” We were quiet for a long long time. Then Roni, with tremendous strength, told me something. “It doesn’t matter that you didn’t say goodbye.” I looked at her, lifting my head up. “What matters is you said hello in the first place. You were in each other’s lives. That’s the important thing.” She smiled, “His dash, remember?” She asked. I nodded. “You’re part of what made it great.” Feeling a little better, I looked straight ahead. A few moments later I felt Roni’s hand on my shoulder. And I knew it was 12:00.  I was mad at first. Then the funeral came and I was sad finally. So many people were there. All his family on both sides. The artist who touched up his tattoo’s once a year. All our friends. Marauders. People from our school. Family friends. So many people. They read some of his poems, they played some of his songs. We laughed a lot and we cried a little too. He was buried in a Jewish cemetery not too far away. It was long and traditional, George would have hated it. But he would have been amazed by how many people loved him. There was a lot of Jewish stuff that had to be attended to after he died. Apparently you can’t try to soldier on, you have to constantly remind yourself how much grief you’re in... forever I guess. Or at least that first whole year. In their religion, grief is like this entire being. It’s like a cousin that you’ve got to hang out with and constantly entertain while it’s in town staying with you. You’ve got to tell it stories, let it cook for you, tell it special prayers, it was weird. George’s father and his brothers and Mel all sat around while people came to visit them and talk about George while apparently George’s ghost hung out and listened. I don’t know, George wasn’t one to be too into traditions and I’m not saying he wasn’t there, but if he was I don’t think he was really that adamant it continue on for that long. They did some of the grieving in California, then went back to Brooklyn Heights for a while. I never did go to talk to the Lysander’s. They didn’t take offense because I wasn’t even talking to anyone, really. I got mad again after a few weeks. I swore off love, I said I was never going to get married. I was done. I didn’t leave the house much. I had to tell Iandrian of Orion Mighty Warrior of The Holy Galactic Belt that George wouldn’t be having a Galaxia rematch, he never responded. My comedy turned really really dark, but preforming got my mind off of it. I did shows every chance I could and people laughed and laughed. I was killing it. But they didn’t know what was really going on inside me. I kind of felt like George, that way. The Marauders videos of George performing went viral. People praised him and the comments were full of bereaved hipsters claiming he changed their lives. “George Lysander, we hardly knew ye.” Then his stuff got shipped from New York and his dad called me. He asked if I wanted to come help go through some of his things. I said no. But then he told me that I’d want to see it. George had filled out every journal I’d bought for him. He had pages and pages of documents on his computer. Shoeboxes filled with poems that had been left behind. His personal journals. His words and his own story. JULY“We should talk more about inevitability. Inevitability is like fate that takes your schedule into consideration. It’s destiny that works well within your comfort zone. It’s a strongly suggested road you can take that will ultimately lead you to where you’re needed. That having been said, my schedule is pretty tight, my comfort zone is fairly impenetrable, and and I’m not a fan of change so I’ll stick with the road I’m on. Inevitability, you’re a sweet little thing, but I just don’t think it’s going to work out between us. However, inevitability is responsible for introducing me to George Lysander. So I’ve got to hand that to her.“George Lysander, you were everything I wasn’t. You were brave and your bravery lead you to become all I didn’t have the courage to be. You faced demons, but more bravely you faced yourself and moved on to greater things. And you continued to move on until life tried to get in the way. Life’s a bitch.“Life’s a bitch and inevitability is her passive aggressive roommate, leaving little notes everywhere for life to slow down and look at, then realize it’s time to get a move on. You inevitably moved on. You moved on to greater things. You shoved life aside, and you still keep moving on. That’s how people get remembered.” I closed the book and laid it down on the grass and sat down. “That’s the introduction to my book. Well not my book. It’s yours. You left so much behind it took us years to get through it all, arrange it chronologically and paint a portrait of you. But you’re so hard to understand, George it’s a pretty fuckin’ abstract portrait,” I laughed. “God you should see this. There’s so many flowers and letters and stuff from people who love you. They don’t realize this is a Jewish cemetery, you’re supposed to leave rocks usually. I left a rock, it’s still here. I can’t believe it. It’s the one from Santa Cruz. I have the other at home. We found them, they were still in the pocket of your mom’s old Judd Nelson coat. I think they haven’t removed it because your poem about it is one of the most famous ones out of the whole book.“The book came out about a year and a half ago. Hipsters love you, you're a God. People who don’t really know you quote you and make weird photo edits of your words to look like they’re edgy. Hipsters wear your face on their shirts and listen to Marauders, you’d love it.” I kept laughing, “Sorry I didn’t come out to see you much when I was working on it but it was too much at once. I live in L.A. still. I still own and headline The Sunset Room. I finished a screenplay, I’ve got a lot going on. I’ve got fans, some from you, we share fans, isn’t that weird?” I stared at the headstoneGeorge Moshe Lysander. 1994-2013 “I am the grass. Let me work.” -Carl Sandburg.“You got your dash. And the years on either side, may make the dash seem shorter. But it’s not, it’s so fucking lived, man. You really lived. You still do. You’re living on and it’s what you wanted. I’m glad I got to help give it to you. “The reason I’m here, upstate, is not just to see you. I’m going to the church. Marty’s getting married... I know you know but... who would have thought that guy’d land anyone. But the real reason I’m here to talk to you is... I’ve met someone. Her name is Quetzal, which is a name you’d fucking hate but... George, you would love her. You would really love her. She’s a publicist and she works with sell out boy bands you’d mock and she mocks them too, she knows she’s just turning them into marketing products and she likes it. She likes hiking and classic rock and even The Dead Milkmen. She thinks vegetarianism is the devil’s work... “It took me so long to open up. I mean, I’m the last of us to find my person. She and I were both um... we both lost people and found each other and connected.” I took a deep breath and said to him, “George, she’s the one. You were the love of my life but I know you want me to live on. I’m going to propose to her tomorrow. We got an extra night in the hotel after the wedding and I’m going to ask her to marry me.” I stopped talking and kept looking at the headstone. “There were poems in your collection that I knew were for me or about us and were private. I have them and I’m never letting them go, I’m never showing them to anyone. There’s one specifically, called ‘Honey Walnut Shrimp’.” I laughed. “That one is for us. And I’ll keep it where we keep all of the things just for us, in the dark.” I leaned forward and grabbed the headstone and gave it a kiss, “I love you. I think about you all the time. You are so alive. You’re living in every book, every poem, each song, George. Thank you for letting me in.” I got in the passenger seat of the car and smiled to the seat next to me, “Good?” “Yep,” I reported back as I buckled my seatbelt, “He says hi and that your neck scar is fucking atrocious.” The engine started, “Shut the fuck up, Other John.” We drove to the gas station. “You haven’t called me that in years,” I said to John. He had gone to Marquette and got drafted into the NBA. He and Jules got engaged and moved to LA where he played for The Clippers, then he shattered his spine and Jules’ mother performed one of his surgeries believe it or not. And then he went back to college at UCLA. He’s a pediatric surgeon now. Jules’ mother would definitely, finally approve. But he and Jules aren’t engaged anymore. They just called it off. They still talk but, Jules married someone else and has three boys now. Two of which are adopted from foster homes. John got his tattoo removed and the scar isn’t that atrocious but we bust each other's balls. He and his wife don’t live far off from Quetzal and I. So we hang out a lot. I keep busy too though, lots of traveling. I tour and do a mix of stand up and speaking at high schools about mental illnesses. I mostly talk about how they’re actual illnesses not to be romanticized at their ages when they’re impressionable. The high school and college kids relate to me for whatever reason, maybe I haven’t changed too much. But when I’m back home I usually hang out with John. I see him more than any of my other friends. He’s a good guy to be close with, my best friend even. I was his best man. He’ll probably be mine when the day comes. That day in particular was Marty’s day. His brother was the best man but John and I were still in the wedding. We were on our way to the gas station to get some liquor for the limo ride. “Any word on Roni?” I asked. He sighed, “Nothing...” “Damn it,” I muttered. I pulled a bottle of brandy off the shelf, “How’s this one?” He scoffed at it, “Cheap. That is cheap shit, Bates. Damn, son. You’re in Hollywood now. You should know good shit.” I shrugged, “I don’t know shit about the Hollywood life, dude. Quetzal can’t take me anywhere. But then again, I’ve got teenage fans so I’m a good way to market herself to young artists.” “Damn, she’s good.” I smiled, proud of her and in love with her, “I know.” After I lost George, I said I’d never love anyone again. But I think what I meant was I’d never love anyone they way I loved George again. Because that’s true. We can give different I love you’s, and we can love someone like that, and we can we can give someone our hearts and they’ll give us their back and those things don’t go away with them. Love is unique and different every time because with each person you love, you love the next person in a new way. You give them your heart, and you give them the piece of you that despite what you may think, was touched by that other person. Love transcends barriers, it crumbles walls we build to hide behind and we need not fear that destruction or what lies beyond it because we can create new places in our hearts to love new people when we rebuild. I’ll never love Quetzal how I loved George and that’s what is so beautiful about how much I love her now.I paid for the cheap bottle and we went to Marty’s parents’ house where we all got dressed for the big day. We tried to get Marty a tiny bit buzzed but he refused the third shot. We figured it was for the best and so we all took a third shot for him. “To Marty’s hot wife,” John toasted, “Too hot for his fat ass but... whatever,” We downed them. Marty pointed to John, “You cannot call her hot. She is officially mine now.” “Eh,” I shrugged, “Not officially. There’s still time for her to run off with a caterer.” Marty shook his head. He looked at John, “I don’t know why you act so surprised I found someone. You found a woman for you neck-mutation-having ass. I found a woman for my fat ass. We’re all good.” John shoved him, “You gave me this neck. It’s not my fault. You gave yourself those tits. There’s only you to blame.” We laughed. Marty wasn’t that fat anymore, I mean he was certainly fluffy but old habits die hard. We got to the church and I was walking back and forth in the hallways before the sanctuary doors waiting to hear from Roni. I kept checking my phone and seeing if I had service but I did and I still hadn’t heard from her. We were all there and I was really starting to worry she wouldn’t show up. I felt a hand on my shoulder turn me around, “Jules!” I yelled hugging her tight, “It’s been so long! I’m so glad I get to see you before the ceremony! How’s the family?”“Oh they’re so good. Little Franky has got a little girl friend—”“He’s three.”She fanned her face, “I know. Young love is so sweet!”“Have you seen John yet?”She got all coy, “Yes I have. He’s looking good. His back is straight, his scar is looking alright. We had a lot to catch up on. He kept showing me pictures of his new baby and I showed him pictures of Franky. His girl and my boy aren’t too far apart. How cute would it be if they got together?”I laughed, “It’d be cute. But too bad he’s taken,” I added sarcastically.“John was taken when I first met him, never stopped me.”I loved how much she hadn’t changed. I had to ask, “What are you doing out here?” “Oh, I have orders from the bride she needs some help. She needs a gay man’s advice,” she winked. I rolled my eyes, “That bitch. Okay, lead the way,” she took me by the hand to a room down the hall. I opened the door and saw the back of the wedding dress, being worn by Marty’s new bride. My heart leapt into my throat and my eyes glistened, “You look absolutely gorgeous.” Roni turned around from the window where she stood watching her bridesmaids mingling with Marty’s groomsmen. I was glad to see her smile when she saw me, “It’s not too much?” That was a ridiculous question. It was so simple and elegant, nothing too florally or too gaudy. It was one hundred percent Roni. She wasn’t wearing a dress, the dress was wearing her and she was the most beautiful accessory. “It’s perfect.” She sat down on a chair and waved me over to her. I pulled up a chair and sat across from her. After a few moments of disbelief of what was going on and uninterrupted staring she said, “Remember when people said us having sex was inevitable?” I nodded, “It was. It was what you needed to let you know you were in love with George. I saw you two together after that and I knew what love really looked like. I knew it existed. And... it was what I needed.” She patted her chest and tried to stop her tears, “You are,” she looked up. She laughed, her eyes sparkled, “A fantastic lover.” I laughed and put my head down. When I looked up she was still smiling, “I told myself that the next time I have sex like that with someone. The next man that made me feel the way you made me feel. The next person that loved me and treated me the way you did, I wouldn’t let him go. And that person happened to be Marty. We saw each other a year ago and something had changed. We’d both matured into the person we needed and he treats me so well. He would never hurt me.” She sat back and shook her head, “That’s all it was. When I was in high school, sleeping around, I just didn’t want to get hurt. I denied love because I didn’t want it to hurt me. But Marty would never hurt me. And I would never hurt him.” She took my hand, “That’s when I realized that... That’s what marriage is. It’s two people promising to never hurt each other. Not everyone keeps that promise, but not everyone loves someone in the way Marty and I do. I still don’t know if I believe in marriage or even love entirely for that matter. But I believe in myself to make the right decision, and I believe that Marty and I are supposed to be together.” “I know you two are.” She smiled, “Love is like a circle. It’s so hard to get perfect, not everyone can. But it’s also simple enough that everyone can achieve it, at least your best attempt. Marty’s my best attempt at perfect love and I’m proud of what we have.” Roni was always comparing things to shapes, she never really did get it right until her wedding day. “I’m so happy you have that,” I told her. “You too...” she said slyly, “I got the picture you sent out this morning of that rock you bought Quetzal. Gosh, I like her. She’s perfect. Not like that one guy you dated there for a while.” “Scott and I are cool now—” “Or Rockelle. God she was a bitch.” “I know,” I rolled my eyes, “Quetzal is perfect. I love her to death.” “We all do. She’s here?” “Yeah. Everyone’s seated. “You should get going then.” She kissed my cheek, “I love you so much.” I hugged her, “I love you too, Roni.” “I’ll see you soon.” We both stood up, “We’re going to get so wasted tonight.” I laughed, “Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.” When I left the dressing room all her bridesmaids came running in. I opened the sanctuary doors and headed down the aisle. I looked ahead and imagined George walking ahead of me, his Judd Nelson coat blowing behind him, two different shoes on, smiling his stupid smile. To the sides of me were my ex-step mother, Roni’s aunt. My parents, Lisa and Lance and their daughter Violet. Jules’ mother and mom. Jules’ husband and John’s wife and Quetzal, who said yes. Roni’s parents, Marty’s parents. Even Mr. U was there. Roni ran into him again not too long after the engagement. At another hot yoga studio, would you believe it. I got to the front of the church and turned to face the crowd. I spoke into a microphone. “Hi. A lot of you know me as J.J. Bates. Most of you know me as just Bates. And if you know me as Bates then you probably knew George Lysander before he was gone and before he was a famous poet and an Urban Outfitters T-shirt.” People laughed, “He is glaring at me for making that joke right now, I can feel it.” More laughs. Then I got serious, “If you know his work, you know love poems weren’t common. Because love isn’t common. It’s rare, precious, and beautiful. Like a diamond. And Roni, right now she has got diamonds in her eyes. A girl who used to not believe in love, just because it was so rare, is now getting married because she is so in love with a guy she met in high school. “George didn’t have many love poems to pick from when Roni and Marty told me they wanted me to do a reading of something of his today. But he did have one that as soon as they told me, I knew would be perfect. And if George were here, he’d agree.” I did a little thinking, and like I do every time I think of George Lysander, I smiled and felt him in my heart, and decided, “He is here... and I have the honor of reading on his behalf.” And I read: Love does not abstain itself from pain It will not shelter you in rain But when love does give you Sunshine You’ll never lookupon grey the same.