I drive to Jason’s place, and I’m freaking pissed.
At Dad. And my stupid life. And the fact that it’s so unfair that my first real friend is completely off-limits. It’s making me want to speed, or hit my steering wheel, or just pull over and scream until I’ve gotten everything in my chest out.
But that isn’t what I really want.
What I want is to not even have to think about this.
I wish Jason and I were ordinary guys.
If that were the case, we could just hang out at each other’s places, and it wouldn’t be weird. It’d maybe be awkward to transition into something more romantic, but it’d be cute awkward. Rom-com awkward. Our parents might even be nosy, and get too involved, and it’d be a little embarrassing, but I’d secretly love it.
I want a Love, Simon life, basically. Not this. Not a dad who I frustrate. And a boy I can never truly have because of our last names.
I reach Jason’s place and park out front.
This is the Donovans’ house.
I shouldn’t be here.
I step out of the car and walk up to the front door. The air is still, and I can hear chirping crickets. I love this sound. I reach his porch and pause. Time to do this. For some reason knocking makes me anxious, so I message him that I’m here.
A few moments later, the door opens.
“Hey there,” he says, tilting his head up. “You look great.”
So does he. He’s wearing a black T-shirt with a Poké Ball on it and gym shorts. His feet are covered in black ankle socks, and his hair is a little limp, not pushed up like it normally is.
I realize this is Jason when he hasn’t put any work in.
He’s gorgeous.
I feel lucky that I get to see this. Him, with his walls down. He beckons me inside and closes the door behind me.
Then we hug. I sink into it.
I can’t tell him about what happened with Dad, so I just try to get as much out of the hug as I can.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
“Huh?”
“I’m just picking up a vibe that something’s happened. Want to talk about it?”
I chew my lip.
And decide to test him.
“Um, my dad’s been kind of shitty lately.”
His eyes widen. “Oh. Right. Well, I mean, you don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to.” He rubs my arm. “Whatever he did, I’m sorry.”
And he passes with flying colors.
I sigh. “No, I can talk about it. He told me I frustrate him sometimes. I know that’s not much, but like … I don’t want to frustrate him. He’s my dad, you know?”
“I completely get it. I’m sorry. But I’d bet he’d be really upset if he found out he’d hurt your feelings. I know my dad says hurtful stuff all the time, and I don’t think he has any idea he’s doing it. I think it’s just a dad thing, you shouldn’t take it personally.”
I like the thought of that.
“That was the perfect thing to make me feel better,” I say. “And you just, like, knew it.”
He grins. “I’m glad. It gets better, too. I actually have something in mind for right now. I’ve always had this idea of what I’d do if I got you in my bedroom.”
UM.
“Oh God, not that!” he says. “I mean, that could be fun, too. But that’s not what I’m talking about. Just, come with me.”
He leads me to his bedroom and closes the door behind him. Then he locks it.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask.
He turns his TV on.
“I was thinking we could watch Mulholland Drive? I’ve been meaning to ever since you recommended it, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
Oh my God.
My favorite movie.
He needs to be less cute. I can’t handle this.
“You remembered,” I say.
“Of course,” he says, shrugging. “Like I remember you love Donnie Darko, and how you had a crush on Jake Gyllenhaal when you were a kid, and how you can name every single Pokémon.”
“And here I was thinking guys were supposed to be bad listeners.”
“Normally I am. Just not with you.”
I’m floored.
“I remember everything you’ve told me, by the way,” I say. “Like how your favorite Pokémon is Arcanine, and how you love the Bartimaeus trilogy, and your big crush as a kid was on Sam Winchester. It’s easy with you, for some reason.”
“I feel the same about you.”
“Cool. Anyway. Um, should we watch the movie?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
He sits down on his bed, propped up against the headrest. I think he’d be cool with me joining him on the bed, but I don’t want to assume anything, so I wheel his desk chair over to the side of the bed.
I don’t know exactly what we’re doing.
I sit down on the chair.
He watches me. I think he’s going to say something, but then he turns away, and scrolls through the apps on the TV. He loads Netflix, then searches for Mulholland Drive and finds it.
“Do you like horror, by the way?” I ask.
“Yeah. They freak me out, though. I think it’s because, like, I sort of believe in that stuff. Like, I totally think ghosts and stuff could be real. That might be dumb.”
It’s not. It’s really cute.
“It’s not dumb. I sort of believe in it, too. I’m, like, paranormal agnostic.”
“Dude, that’s the perfect description! I’m exactly the same! Like, I’m not totally convinced that they’re real, but like, I think there’s a chance. Enough to get scared by a horror movie, anyway.”
I love it when he gets like this. All hyper and excited.
It’s so. Damn. Precious.
We smile at each other.
Again, I feel overwhelmed by how cool I think he is. I fall back to that mental image, of us, in sweats, just hanging out together. I don’t know why I like that picture so much, but I do. Us, as boyfriends.
Naomi was right.
It would be really cute.
“Is this going to scare me?” he asks.
“Probably.”
He lifts the remote, and then lowers it. He tilts his head toward me.
“Hey,” he says.
“Yeah?”
“Is there a reason you aren’t on the bed?”
“Oh, I just thought…”
“Thought what?”
“I didn’t want to assume.”
“Well, you’re totally welcome to join me. Sitting there is cool, too, if you want to. No pressure.”
I move to the bed.
“Much better,” he says.
He scoots across as I start unlacing my shoes. I kick them off, and then put my legs onto the bed. He’s watching me, smiling.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.”
I think he wants me to lean forward and kiss him. The twinkle in his eyes makes me think that’s what he wants. I take him in. Perfect hair, broad shoulders, and soft-looking lips. Military boy par excellence. He hasn’t shaved today, so there’s a slight shadow on his cheeks.
Kissing him would be unbeatable.
But what if I’m wrong?
What if I make a move, and he doesn’t want me to, and then things between us become so awkward that we never talk to each other again?
Plus, he’s a Donovan. I really shouldn’t kiss him.
Instead, I just lean against the headrest, keeping a comfortable distance between us.
“Do you want more pillows or something?” he asks.
I adjust the pillow behind me so it’s a proper backrest.
“I’m good. Thanks, though.”
“Cool.”
He starts the movie.
And here I am.
Sitting in a bed. With a Donovan.
I wonder if we’re going to have sex.
I can’t even believe I’m actually thinking that. I mean, it wasn’t that long ago that I hadn’t even been kissed, and now I’m thinking about sex? If it were any other guy, I think I’d be nervous. But with Jason, I think I could handle it. I wonder what position he’d prefer. I’ve always felt like I’d like both, although I get a vibe that Jason is more of a …
Okay.
I need to stop thinking about this.
I focus on the movie. Luckily, it’s a pretty fantastic distraction, because it’s so weird and dark and I love it so much.
I’m still thinking about it, though. I’ve never done it before, but I don’t think I have any hang-ups about it. It’s never seemed like that big of a deal to me. So I’d probably try it if he suggested it, as long as we were safe. Either position, I don’t care. Or something else; I know that kind of sex takes prep work. But I have condoms in my bag, so like, we could totally do it.
I wonder if he’s a virgin, too.
I have no idea. I don’t like to assume this sort of thing.
Anyway, it doesn’t matter. This is just a fantasy.
I start to feel a little brave. I tilt my foot across and touch his foot.
“Finally,” he says, and he leans across to kiss me.
I pull back.
“What?” he says.
I’m thinking about Dad. About how I frustrate him. And I think my doing stuff like this is part of the reason why. Maybe I’d be less miserable if I at least tried to do the stuff he wants me to.
Being friends with a Donovan is one thing. Going further is different.
“I dunno, just, maybe we shouldn’t…,” I say.
“Oh. Why not?”
“Because we’re us, you know? I want to, but I also want to be smart. I think this is going to be really embarrassing to admit, but…”
“But what?”
He says it so softly, like he already knows, and it’s okay.
“I think if I’m not careful, I could start to like you,” I say. “As more than a friend, I mean. Obviously I like you. But it could be more for me, if we keep doing stuff like this. Which would be bad, right?”
I hang my head. I can’t bring myself to look at him.
“Why would it be bad?” he asks.
He raises his hand to touch me. I pull away.
“Because you’re a Donovan,” I say. “We’re on opposite sides. I gave myself a rule, and I need to stick to it. We can be friends, but that’s all. Look at me. Please. Let’s just be friends. That’s as far as I can go.”
“Why’d you touch my foot, then?” He doesn’t ask in a harsh way, it seems he genuinely wants to know.
“I didn’t mean to.”
He stares at me blankly.
“Okay, sorry,” I say. I bring my knees up to my chest. “Maybe I wanted to see what would happen. Because I do like you, I just … I wish I could show you what’s going on in my head right now.”
“Use your words. What were you hoping would happen?”
“Truly, I don’t know.”
“Just tell me: What do you want?”
I know what I want. But I’m not allowed.
Then again, maybe I should just say screw it and go all in.
I get very hyped up at the thought.
Ryan Donovan flashes in my mind. Then he shifts to Jason sitting on the chair, with slashes on his chest. Vince slices down, killing him.
“What are you thinking?” he asks. “Talk to me.”
“I think it all boils down to the fact that I’m scared of how much I could like you.”
“I’m scared of how much I could like you, too.”
That sinks in. I can’t think of anything to say to that. I guess he can’t, either, as we both turn our attention back to the movie.
I can’t focus on it, though. It’s hopeless. I like him too much.
Even though I know I shouldn’t, I brush my arm against his. It’s only a tiny amount of contact, but it sends a crackling static feeling through me. He keeps watching. I stop paying attention to the movie, to focus instead on how close I am to him. It feels as if time has slowed down.
Our arms are almost touching, and we’re nearly skin to skin.
I keep watching.
I brush my arm against his again. He doesn’t move.
I do it again, and then he moves his arm out, so it’s resting against mine. I glance at him, and he’s focused on the movie.
“Hey,” I say.
He swallows. “Hey. Did you decide, is this okay?”
“Yeah, I like it,” I say.
“Cool, I like it, too. How about this? Tell me if I go too far.”
His foot moves across and touches mine. I tilt my foot and touch his. And all of a sudden it’s on, we’re bumping and touching each other.
I like it so much.
I can’t do this.
“Sorry,” I say, my voice coming out a little raspy. “Stop. We can’t.”
He goes still. “Dude, talk to me. What do you want?”
“I just … I keep going from wanting to be friends to not wanting to see you at all, then wanting to be, like, more than friends with you. And I can’t figure out what the smart thing to do is.”
He moves away, and his foot goes still. “Okay. I’m really confused. Do you want me to stop?”
“I don’t know. I like this. It’s just, I think kissing is too far, but urgh. I want to; I really want to. But I feel like it’s a mistake. I’m sorry if I’m being frustrating. I just don’t want to do the wrong thing. I still don’t know how much I trust you.”
“You can trust me. I swear, I’m not here as a Donovan. I’m here as your friend.”
“Okay, I get that.”
“Then what makes you feel like kissing is the wrong thing?”
I push my thumb into my palm. “It’s just what my instincts are telling me. Even if you don’t have some scheme, it can’t end well, right?”
“Okay. I’m getting the impression that you like me, and you like fooling around, but you don’t want to get into a relationship, because of who we are.”
“Yes, exactly! That’s, like, totally it!”
“Right. Well, what if we just say that we’re friends who sometimes do stuff? We’re not dating or anything. We’re just two guys … trying stuff out. No pressure, and we can stop at any time. Would that be okay with you?”
“Like, friends with benefits?” I ask.
“I mean, yeah?”
Would that be okay? It doesn’t mean I’m being any more disloyal to Dad and my family than I would be if we were just friends. Nor am I putting my family in danger. Jason already knows I like guys, so even if he did tell his family about this, it wouldn’t matter.
“I think so,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I need more than that. I don’t want to do anything with you unless you’re fully sure. The last thing I want to do is make you uncomfortable.”
“Okay,” I say. “Then I’m in. Friends with benefits it is.”
“In that case, screw the movie.”
“Yeah, screw you!” I say to the TV. “I can’t believe I just said that. You know that’s my favorite movie, right? That’d be like you saying screw you to Skyrim.”
“Trust me, I know, and I appreciate it.”
He laughs, and puts his hand flat on my chest, and just holds it there.
I chew my lip. “What are you doing?”
“Touching you,” he says.
“Okay.”
He slides his hand under my shirt, until his hand is in the same spot as it was before, but under, so his palm is on my bare skin. I let myself stop thinking so much and just enjoy how it feels to be touched.
I get really into it.
“You like this?” he asks, his voice low.
“Uh-uh.”
“God you’re cute.”
He slides his hand out from under, and brings it up to my face. Then he leans down and kisses me. I open my mouth, and tease my tongue against his. He’s moving his mouth slowly, and I try to mirror him. It feels really good.
He pulls back.
“Good?” I ask.
“So good.”
“Should we take our shirts off? We don’t have to go further than that, but, do you want to?”
“Definitely.” He tears off his shirt, and then he frantically takes mine off me.
We take a second to look at each other, both shirtless. He’s so perfect. I run my hands down his chest, to his stomach. I touch his abs, feeling the individual ridges of muscle. They feel different from what I was expecting. More solid. I didn’t even know a stomach could feel like this.
He knots his hand through my hair, and for a second I think I should stop.
I’m not sure if I can be just friends with benefits with him.
I think I like him too much for that.
When he leans down, I let him kiss me.