In mid-April, Dexter returned to Massachusetts and immediately called me, inviting me over. I was so excited I leapt onto my bike and raced to his house, bounding into the kitchen with a huge grin.
Looking at me, the first thing Dexter said was, “You’ve grown.”
“So have you,” I responded, adding quietly, “I really missed you.” As I looked Dexter over carefully once again, I could feel my heart thudding in my chest and wondered if he could hear it. I admired his golden tan and his hair which had bleached even lighter in the sun. I really wanted to hug him but I was afraid he wouldn’t like it.
After we’d gotten milk and cookies and gone to Dexter’s room, I asked, “So, what have you been doing in Florida?” Dexter told me that he lived right across the road from a huge, wonderful beach. He described his life in Fort Lauderdale, and I found myself longing to go there, where there was no snow and where I could swim all year round. On the other hand, I realized, I might not be able to figure skate there. We went on to talk about things that had happened while we were apart. A little reluctantly, I asked Dexter if he had any friends in Florida, hoping against hope that he didn’t.
“Well, I have one good friend there. We do a lot of things together and we have a lot of fun.”
When I asked what they did, Dexter was rather vague, saying they “played around” and “spent time together, sort of like we do.”
Finishing our snack, we went up to the loft and were soon going over my plans for the model layout. We made measurements for the table and figured out what we’d need to buy.
The next Saturday we coaxed Dexter’s father into helping us get the wood we needed and began to build an 8 by 10 foot table in the loft. While it made the loft a bit crowded we enjoyed working together constructing it to our plans.
Through that spring our friendship continued to grow stronger. We watched TV together and often slept over at each other’s house on the weekends. Once again I was happy. I enjoyed doing things with Dexter — talking with him, joking with him, sharing books and plans with him. We began reading The Golden Compass and were soon lost in its adventures. Secretly, I sometimes thought I was in love with Dexter, but of course I never said that. The kiss had still not been mentioned, and I was not about to bring it up for fear I might lose him.
One evening in June, when we were sitting in Dexter’s bedroom, Dexter asked, “Do you remember asking me one time whether I was queer?”
I nodded and answered, “You said I was asking more than you wanted to tell me.”
Dexter laughed. Then he got serious. “To be honest, I think the reason I said that was because I was afraid that I might truly be queer, and I didn’t want to be.”
“Oh? Why not?”
“I suppose because a lot of people still think being homosexual is dirty or perverted.”
“Isn’t it?”
“No, I don’t think so. I think gay people must be born that way, and if that’s true, it can’t be wrong or unnatural. Look, Gayle, I’ve a confession to make. I am queer, and I guess I really knew it even then but I didn’t want to admit it to myself or anybody else. My friend in Florida is queer too, and we began doing some stuff together. Does that shock you?”
My heart dropped suddenly into my stomach. Was I losing him? I wondered.Thinking a moment or two before answering, I finally said, “No, not really. What were you doing?”
“Oh, just jerking off together and sometimes grinding.”
“What’s grinding?”
“It’s when one guy lies on top of another guy and they sort of rub back and forth until they come. It feels really good.”
“Oh.” Secretly, I wished that Dexter would suggest we try it, but didn’t say anything.
We read some more in The Golden Compass together and talked about what “daemons” were, wondering why we didn’t have them.
We finished reading and there was a long pause as we just sat looking at each other. Finally Dexter asked in a subdued voice, “Do you think you might enjoy it if we jerked off together?”
I was very embarrassed but I was also very excited. I nodded, and with no further communication we went into Dexter’s bathroom. As soon as we had begun talking about jerking off we both felt the familiar stirring in our groins. We were both very ready. Dexter dropped his trousers and undershorts and looked at me. “Come on,” he urged, “You don’t want to do it in your pants do you?”
I smiled sheepishly, shook my head and slowly lowered my trousers and shorts. We stood looking each other’s equipment. “Wow!” said Dexter, “Your willy’s really grown!”
“So’s yours,” I replied.
Immediately we began masturbating. “Whoa!” I exclaimed as we came in spurts that splattered on the wall and the floor. When we finished, we took some toilet paper and cleaned ourselves as well as the wall and floor before dressing and sitting back down on his bed.
“So, did you like that?” asked Dexter.
“Oh, yes.”
“Well, I love to jerk off and it’s fun doing it together, but I think it might be even more fun if we jerked each other off. Maybe we can try it next time.” I nodded happily as we sat in silence for a few moments. Then he continued, “Tell me, Gayle, do you think you’re really queer or are you just experimenting?”
“I thought about that a lot through the winter. Whenever I jerked off I fantasized about a boy, usually,” I added shyly, “about you. I even tried to fantasize about girls, but I could never get a boner doing that, so I always ended up going back to boys. So, yes, I’m pretty sure I’m queer.”
“Was that why you kissed me last fall?”
Relieved that the question of the kiss had finally come up, I answered, “Not really. I just wanted to show you that I liked you and I would miss you. I wasn’t thinking about sex or anything then.”
Dexter nodded. “So, do you want to keep doing things together?” I nodded enthusiastically, sealing a silent pact between us.
Sometimes I was jealous of Dexter’s friend in Florida, but I knew that I’d have Dexter with me until November.
Once we had the table assembled, Adam, who was now driving, took us to buy HO-gauge track, wire, and a transformer. I had studied how to wire the layout over the winter so we took the next two weeks to lay out, tack down, and wire the tracks. The layout was complicated, involving several switches and the ability to run up to three engines at a time, so it took some experimenting and a few more purchases before we got it right and were satisfied.
For my birthday, my thirteenth, I didn’t want a party, so I asked Mom if I could just celebrate with our family and Dexter. Mom agreed, Donald snorted, Adam said, “Why not?” and Dad threw down his napkin and left the dining room. Since my father refused to attend, Mom and I decided to celebrate at lunch time instead of dinner. I was very glad Dad wouldn’t be there to spoil things, although I did worry about Donald.
But the meal went well. We all talked amicably, making sure that Dexter was included. After lunch they gave me my presents. Mom gave me a subscription to a skating magazine. Donald gave me a football. What the hell am I going to do with this? I wondered. Adam gave me some books.
When I opened the package from Dexter I found two gorgeous shirts for skating. One was emerald green and tight-fitting. The other was Cossack style, with loose, flowing sleeves and embroidery around the collar and half-way down the open front as well as more around the tightly fitting cuffs. Asking Mom if I could try them on, I raced up to my room with Dexter right behind. I stripped off my T-shirt, put the green shirt on, and stood admiring it in the mirror. Actually, I was admiring my body which the shirt showed off beautifully. While I was still slender, my chest as well as my arms and legs had filled out nicely due to my skating.
“Wow!” exclaimed Dexter. “I knew you were beautiful but I didn’t know you were that beautiful!”
Blushing, I gently pulled off the shirt and tried on the Cossack shirt. It fitted me perfectly. I could already imagine how it would flow and billow out when I skated. Before we went back downstairs, I put my arms around Dexter and kissed him deeply, thanking him for the wonderful gift. Dexter lovingly returned the kiss. We both grew instantly hard and for a moment thought about jerking each other off right then, but knew it was not a good idea so we returned to the dining room, where Mom and Adam both admired me, Donald having taken the opportunity to leave.
Throughout the summer, we often retreated to our loft. We had bought model kits for an engine and freight cars. We assembled them and soon had the train up and running. In addition, as we had before, we often sat and quietly talked or read companionably. But we also continued experimenting. In the beginning, we started by kissing, then we stripped and masturbated each other, finding indeed that it was a new and wonderful sensation. We were both overjoyed and couldn’t wait for the next time. Sometime later, we began grinding, enjoying that also. In the fall, shortly before Dexter left, we discovered oral sex and knew there was no turning back.
All too soon it was time for Dexter to leave again. Before he left, we made love one last time in the loft. By this time we had learned to go slowly and enjoy all the sensations. When it was time for me to leave, I took Dexter’s hands in mine, drew him close, and kissed him on the mouth. Dexter responded eagerly, and for some minutes we explored each other’s mouths. Finally, we broke apart and, as I left, I looked back and said sadly, “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” responded Dexter. We both had tears in our eyes.
Once again the winter was a dreary one for me. I found school boring but I managed to keep my grades up. Gym classes continued to be torture and boys continued to laugh at me. I usually laughed with them, but inside I was still hurt by what they said and did.
Meanwhile, in my little shop in our basement, I began to build HO-scale buildings using balsa wood for the frames and card stock for the walls and roof. When I finished constructing them, I painted them and set them aside for the following April.
My greatest pleasure was still figure skating. I knew I was not athletic enough to become an outstanding skater, but I did enter a local competition and came in second. Mostly, I enjoyed the freedom and the feeling of flying I experienced when I was skating.
In the evenings, I found myself masturbating, often more than once, fantasizing about Dexter. I wondered if I was in love with Dexter or if I was just in love with sex. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much Dexter and I had in common. I enjoyed his sense of humor and love of books and trains, things which I myself also loved. In time, I concluded that I really was in love and that was why I missed him so much.
Throughout the winter, I worried about Dexter and his friend in Florida, fearing that Dexter would be so wrapped up in him that by the time he came home my own relationship with him would have changed irrevocably.
In March I wrote a long email to Dexter, as usual telling him inconsequential things like what was happening in school, but I also revealed some of what I was doing and feeling in bed, although I never mentioned the word “love.”
Three days later I received a return email. Dexter too talked of school but also said that much had happened since he had left, although he didn’t say what. He closed by saying that he really missed me and couldn’t wait to get back to me. Hoping that was true, I felt a little better.
As April arrived, I stopped at Dexter’s house every day to see if he had returned. For two weeks nobody answered the bell, and I rode home still lonely and sad, my only encouragement being what Dexter had written.