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After that awkward call at the restaurant, the rest of the day passed with few awkward family encounters. My parents had been less wooden around me and Adam. By the end of dinner, they’d even stopped with the walking on eggshell approach and had an actual conversation with him. Not about anything important, just his opinion on a movie my dad had seen and really liked, but it was miles better than the situation from the night before.
Though I didn’t ask Adam about the phone call from Sabrina, it felt as though it had become a huge wedge weighing heavily between us. He didn’t seem as interested in what I was doing as he had been before. Or maybe it felt that way because the call had snapped me out of whatever fantasy I had been living in for the past twenty or so hours.
After dinner, Adam had gone upstairs to shower and then to bed. Dani had settled into the couch with a book she’d pitched to me as “Star Wars, but everyone is fucking each other.” My parents were winding down with a movie in bed.
And I was left alone.
I wandered through the house, feeling like a teenager again. This was how most nights had ended my whole life. Dani reading. Mom and Dad falling asleep to the t.v. in bed. Me, left to fill my time. Back then, I used to take long walks to try to clear my mind. I was always trying my best not to think too much, and I was always failing.
I’d been the big queer kid in a small ass town, raised super christian. My nights like this had been meditations in me trying to make sense of the world and how I was supposed to fit in it as a gay christian. Try as I might, back then, I couldn’t see how I was supposed to move forward without giving up something huge. I guess that’s what happens when you fall for the lies you’re raised with; you begin to think you’re being selfish for simply wanting happiness.
I eventually figured out that the happiness I thought I got from Christianity was more akin to the joy of getting a good grade, and less like the true happiness that comes from being yourself.
When you’re a kid, it’s so hard to see. Part of me will always feel sorry for that scared teenager that used to wander his parent's house, searching for an escape.
At some point, I found my way to the foot of the tree where my dad and I had built the treehouse. All these years later and it still sat there, suspended in the branches. I contemplated going up there. It should still be safe. We’d built it sturdy, using scraps from the shed that stood a few yards away.
Deciding to go for it, I climbed the wooden ladder up into the tree, entering my old fort. I’d spent many summer nights camped out up here with my sleeping bag and lamp and imagination. I used to pretend I was out in the wilderness, far away from anyone else.
When I flipped the single light switch, it surprised me to find that there was still power running to this place. The treehouse filled with the warm glow of several hundred Christmas lights that I’d strung up when I was fourteen. With the multicolored lights shining down on me, I sat down on the wooden floor.
Wrapping myself with my jacket to fight back the cold, I remembered back to the construction of this place. Dad had used it as a reward for building the shed that year, but I think he’d secretly planned on building it with me already. He used to do things like that - teach me to build or hunt or fish. Manly things.
He’d always said that with me, he was in the business of raising a man, not a boy. Whatever that meant.
But coming out had changed our relationship. And then moving had changed that even more. And now... now I wasn’t even sure if I had an actual relationship with my father. Most of my memories of him were of chores and lies and hiding myself. Now, he wouldn’t even stand up for me against his siblings when they started talking shit about people like me. Perhaps, in his mind, I’d never be one of “those people” that they were talking about, so there was nothing to defend.
I heard the wooden ladder creek below me and tensed up. Something that had also haunted me since a child was the idea of a bad person climbing up into my treehouse while I slept and murdering me.
Adam’s head poked up through the hatch in the floor into the treehouse, and I jumped.
“Jesus,” I grabbed my chest. “I thought you were going to bed!”
Adam laughed at me. I could only guess what my expression was. But I knew it betrayed that he’d terrified me.
“Couldn’t fall asleep,” Adam said, climbing the rest of the way in. “I brought libations.”
He held up a bottle of whiskey and two cups in his left hand and shook them tantalizingly. Giving a soft smile, I motioned for him to sit down.
“Dani told you I was in here, I’m guessing.”
“She might’ve mentioned it,” Adam poured some liquor into each of the glasses and handed me one. I frowned at the cup, contemplating it, and then raised it up.
“Cheers,” I took a big sip of the liquor, comforted by the burn that slid all the way down to my stomach.
“Sorry about earlier today,” Adam said. “I had no idea Sabrina was going to call.”
I winced, somehow in my reflection of my childhood, I’d managed to forget what was currently bothering me. No, it wasn’t bothering me; I reminded myself. It had no right to bother me. I had no claims on Adam.
“Why are you apologizing?” I asked, trying to sound as aloof as possible. “She was a big part of your life.”
“It seemed like it bothered you,” Adam said.
“It didn’t.”
“Okay,” Adam took a drink from his own glass. He stared down at it for a moment, then; “Why haven’t you said two words to me since then?”
“What are you talking about? I’ve been with you all day.”
“You’ve been around me,” Adam said. “But while your sister and parents have had conversations with me, you’ve been real quiet.”
I finished my glass, motioning for him to refill it, which he did.
“What did Sabrina want?” I asked, I could already feel the alcohol on my cheeks. Warmth blooming red across my face. It was warmer in here than outside, but not by that much. The warmth from the alcohol was welcome.
“She was just checking up on me,” Adam said. “The same stuff as usual. She regrets us breaking up, she wasn’t happy with life in general and took it out on our relationship, etcetera.” He tossed back the remnants of his glass and poured another. “Honestly, I humored her for longer than I should have.”
“So you’re not getting back together with her,” I said.
“You remember me last year,” Adam said. “I was a mess after she left, but it wasn’t like the relationship was a happy one. I don’t think it’s best to get involved in that again. Even if it would be the easy thing to do.”
“What’s this?” I feigned shock. “Adam is learning growth?”
“Shut up,” he gave my shoulder a playful push. It was barely enough to move my arm.
We each took another drink as silence fell between us.
“I always wanted a treehouse,” Adam said wistfully, looking around at mine. The wooden walls were bare now, but once they’d held all the drawings of the superheroes, I’d made up and the adventures they’d gone on. “We never lived in a place long enough to build one until I was too old.”
“Please, I slept out here until I left for college,” I said with a laugh. “I don’t think you’re ever too old for one.”
“Maybe it’s a maturity thing on your part,” Adam said with a twinkle in his eye.
“I’ll have you know I’m very mature,” I sniffed.
“Isn’t your favorite movie The Lego Movie?”
“That film so happens to be a masterpiece,” I said. “It’s an allegory for how we as a society are kept dumb by the shit capitalism spews out to keep us complacent while corporations take over the world.”
“It’s also a movie for children.”
I leaned closer to Adam, pointing my finger in his face. “You take that back or I’m fake breaking up with you.”
“I apologize,” Adam grabbed my hand and lowered it. “I forgot how you get about your cartoons.”
“That’s it!” I yelled. “We’re done! I can’t be with someone who doesn’t understand art.”
“Why did you move your hand like an Italian chef?”
I looked down at my free hand, frozen in the strange gesture, and we both laughed. Adam’s smile lit up his entire face. He had perfect teeth of course, but when he smiled, the dimple on the right cheek deepened and his eyes glowed with joy.
The wind whirled around the treehouse, rattling a loose board somewhere. The ensuing draft sent a chill down my spine. I scooted closer to Adam, finishing my second glass.
“Refill, please.”
Adam complied.
The glow of the Christmas caught the glass as Adam handed it back to me. My gaze wandered up to look into his eyes. Red and blue and yellow reflected back at me there. His skin was flushed from drinking. I was close enough I could feel the warmth of his breath.
“What is it?” Adam said.
“Nothing,” I realized I’d been leaning pretty hard into him so I straightened up. “You know, there was a time when I would’ve given anything to have a guy up here with me.”
“The whole world and this was your fantasy?”
“I just wanted simple things,” I sighed. “I told you I love romantic comedies.”
“You might’ve mentioned it once or twice,” Adam smiled softly.
I realized I was leaning on him again, but this time I didn’t pull away. Besides, Adam didn’t seem to mind.
“What about you?” I asked.
“What about me?”
“What were some of your fantasies as a kid? Like what did you dream of when you thought about relationship goals or whatever?”
“Honestly, I just wanted someone to hang out with. Growing up, I saw my parents always fighting and complaining about how hard relationships were, and I didn’t want that at all. I just wanted to find a girl that I could be friends with and have sex with and everything would work out.”
“Ah.” I sat up again when he said “girl.” One word was all it took to bring me crashing back into reality. It was the one thing I’d never be - a girl.
“I guess we both had unrealistic expectations of relationships,” I said sadly and took another drink.
“At least neither of us have stayed in the wrong relationship for too long,” Adam pointed out.
“True, you do date a lot.”
Adam responded by laughing. Our eyes met again, and he stopped abruptly.
My throat closed up looking at him. He was so hot. All I could do was look from his eyes to his lips and think about how much I wanted to kiss them again. I’d do it right this time and kiss him back. Last time we’d been in front of everyone and I’d sort of froze and -
“Do you think I’m a terrible kisser?” I asked, my thoughts spewing from my mouth.
Adam blinked. “Where did that come from?”
“I was just thinking about how I didn’t react or anything when you kissed me,” I finished my third glass and set it down. “That was because of shock. I’m not bad at kissing, you know.” I poked his chest.
“I never said you were,” Adam was fighting a smile, I could see it at the corners of his perfect mouth.
“I’m just saying you haven’t really had me kiss you.”
“Is this you trying to kiss me now?” Adam raised an eyebrow suggestively.
I thought about it for a second. “No, I just thought you should know,” I finally said.
“Thank you for that information,” Adam said as I settled down. “Though you should probably know I was holding back because there was an audience. So you haven’t really been kissed by me yet either.”
My body felt like icy fire had erupted in my veins and I forgot how to breathe. I sat up straight and looked at him.
“Is this you trying to kiss me now?” I repeated his own question back, glaring at him playfully.
Adam shrugged with a grin. “I mean we are dating, aren’t we?”
I studied him, sitting in front of me wearing that stupid, provocative smile. His dimple looked even darker in the dimness of the Christmas lights. His eyes were dark with something that - if I didn’t know better - I’d say was desire. The air between us felt energetic, like lightning about to strike.
Don’t do it. The rational part of me warned.
I let out a sigh. He wasn’t the first straight boy who’d thought it would be fun to experiment with me, and had he been anyone else looking at me like that, I probably would’ve gone for it.
But it was Adam, so I shouldn’t. If not for his sake then my own.
But his lips were right there.
I leaned into him more, but then I stopped myself and placed a hand firmly on his chest, ignoring the feel of his muscle under my touch.
“Let’s go back inside,” I said with my face mere inches from his.
“Can’t we just stay out here?”
No, because I don’t trust myself around you right now. Especially with alcohol in my system, I thought but didn’t say.
“Let’s go to bed, Adam,” I forced myself to say the words.
He frowned but nodded, and we left the treehouse. By the time I made it to bed, I was kicking myself. I should’ve gone for it. He had been right there, with those eyes, teasing me.
He’s determined to make this as hard for you as possible.
My last conscious thought was on how stupid game only won you stupid prizes. I was beginning to think that despite my assurances to the contrary with Dani; I was about to learn the true meaning behind the phrase.