16 Closer to Fine
As Alvin had thought, the party had continued to rage on in his absence. No one seemed to have taken note of his disastrous encounter with Alistair. He stood awkwardly in the foyer, not sure what he would say to Alistair when he ran into him again. Or to the Trio, for that matter. When he was talking to Rowan, his reaction had seemed sensible, understandable. But when Alvin tried to summon up the words to explain, they swam just out of his reach.
Rowan looped his arm through Alvin’s and started to pull him deeper into the house. When Alvin resisted, Rowan withdrew, looking confused. “I thought we’d head to the kitchen. Get some drinks?”
Alvin nodded, trying his best to smile. But all he could think of was being confronted by Alistair at any moment. “Yeah, that sounds great, I just . . . I want to apologize to the Trio. And to Alistair. Before they see me . . .”
Alvin didn’t finish the sentence, but what he was worried about was obvious to both of them. He wanted to talk to Alistair and the Trio before they saw him hanging out with another cute boy, after he had run out of the house to get away from one. Rowan nodded and returned the smile. But Alvin saw a flash of hurt on his face and his heart sank. He wanted to explain to Rowan that it wasn’t a rejection, just a delay. But he wasn’t sure how to word it without making it sound like there was something between them. Alvin felt that there was, but maybe he was too hopeful. If Rowan was just being understanding, the last thing Alvin needed was to ruin that by interpreting it as romantic interest.
“Sure, yeah,” Rowan said. “Of course. You find them, and I’ll grab us drinks. We can meet back in the living room.”
Alvin made a face, and Rowan chuckled. “The living room with the stuffed alligator. Third room on the right from the kitchen? I’ll wait for you there.”
Alvin nodded gratefully, then set off to make his apologies. He hoped that he would figure out what to say by the time he had to say it. He wandered through every room on the first floor that wasn’t off limits. Then he went upstairs, thinking that Alistair might still be in the Coca Cola bedroom — hopefully not with someone else. Finding it empty, Alvin doubled back, only to run into Jesse. He was emerging from what Alvin figured was his bedroom with a vape pen dangling from his hand.
“Oh, hey, Alvin!” Jesse said. “I thought you left. Want to come for a swim?” Jesse had changed into a speedo that left little to the imagination. His body was lean and toned, and Alvin was suddenly very aware of how private the hallway felt.
Alvin stammered and blushed. Jesse laughed and stretched out his arm to lean against the wall Alvin was backed up against. He jerked his head toward the open bedroom door. Beyond, Alvin could see a massive bed with satiny sheets.
Taking another drag from the pen, Jesse let out a puff of vapour. He tilted his head to try to catch Alvin’s eyes. “Or . . . we could just hang out up here. I’ve got plenty of this to share.” He waved the vape pen between them, raising his eyebrows suggestively.
Alvin gave a nervous laugh and ducked under Jesse’s arm to head back toward the stairs. “Um, y’know what, I’m good,” he said. “Don’t let me keep you from swimming. I was actually just seeing if Alistair was still up here.”
At the mention of Alistair, Jesse’s face fell, and Alvin felt a little bad for him. The look of surprise and rejection on his face was painfully clear, though it was quickly replaced by Jesse’s usual placid grin. Jesse shrugged, right back to his easygoing self. Alvin suspected it was his go-to strategy for dealing with an uncomfortable situation.
“Oh yeah, for sure,” drawled Jesse. “No worries. I think Alistair and the Trio headed down to the basement. I’ll, uh, catch you later.”
Jesse’s basement was as lavish as the rest of the house, with a huge part of it set up like a private movie theatre. Next to that was yet another bedroom. There was a home office, the door of which was covered in the Halloween-style Caution tape that Jesse had used to mark rooms as off-limits. Finally Alvin came to a lounge with a pool table. He could hear the voices of the Trio and saw Alistair lining up his shot. But as soon as he stepped into sight, the conversation ceased. He assumed it was because they’d been talking about him.
Alvin gave a sheepish wave, still working out how to start his apology. Before he could say anything, the Trio gave one another a look and announced they were heading outside to smoke a joint. It was a flimsy excuse, given the liberty with which everyone else at the party was smoking in the house. But Alvin was grateful for the chance to talk to Alistair first, to try to explain without having to provide others with a play-by-play of what had happened. Alistair laid down his pool cue and hopped up to sit on the edge of the table. He gestured for Alvin to join him. Alvin’s hop up took a few tries and was much less graceful — Alistair had a foot or so of height on Alvin and the table wasn’t exactly low to the ground. They both laughed, and the tension that had been building since Alvin came back eased.
“I’m sorry if I did anything you weren’t ready for,” Alistair began.
Alvin shook his head and held up his hand to stop him from saying anything more. “No, you were fine . . . I mean, yes, it felt a little too fast. But I should have talked to you more. Before we did anything. It wasn’t fair for me to just run out.”
They sat together quietly for a few moments. Alvin nervously spun one of the pool balls as he tried to find the right words to explain. Alistair waited patiently for him to continue.
Finally, Alvin said, “It’s like everyone has an idea of what they’re ready for, right? And they follow that idea, and it’s fine. But I . . . I’m still figuring out what that idea even is for me. I’m still at that step.”
Alistair thought over Alvin’s words, nodding. Then he laid his hand on Alvin’s. “Can I ask you some things, then? Honest answers?”
“Of course.”
“Do you like me?”
Alvin looked away, blushing. He couldn’t help but smile at Alistair’s innocent, genuine tone. He looked back, and nodded. “Yes. Yeah, I do.”
Alistair smiled back. “Okay, then we just have to figure out where we start, and take it from there. Holding hands — how was that?”
“Nice. That was really nice.”
“Kissing?”
“That too.”
“Tongue?”
Alvin looked away again. He gave a nervous laugh.
Alistair hopped down. He moved to stand in front of Alvin and took both of his hands. For once, they were almost the same height. “Seriously, Alvin. I want to know. And if it wasn’t okay, I want to know that too.”
“It was . . .” Alvin thought back to the Coke room, what seemed like hours ago. “It was a little surprising. But I liked it. I think. Would try it again.”
They giggled together, and Alistair nodded, looking excited. “Okay, okay, that’s good! French kissing. We can start with that. What is that? Like, first and a half base?”
Alvin frowned thoughtfully and shrugged. “I dunno. I never really understood the whole baseball metaphor. My parents are more into cricket.”
“That doesn’t use bases?”
“Nah, I think they use, like . . . a bunch of little sticks. Stumps. Something like that.”
They laughed again and, after a moment, Alistair leaned in to kiss Alvin. It was more hesitant than before, and Alistair kept his eyes open to watch Alvin’s reaction. But that was fine. Instead of the weight building in his stomach, Alvin felt butterflies.