Tim

Chapter 28

We made dinner together in the kitchen after I called my dad and told him I’d be home late. When we were done and had cleaned up, somehow, without talking about it, we just ended up back on John’s bed. We’d only slipped into our underwear to make dinner and didn’t bother to take them off now. We’d made out for hours before dinner, and even though we were teenagers and completely refueled, it somehow felt right this way, lying together, skin touching, but not totally naked.

We lay together and talked. We had a lot to talk about.

We talked about school. I asked him what he felt about coming out to everyone. He said he wanted to, he was so happy and proud he didn’t want to hide, but was worried about me because coming out could cause me to have to defend myself, while he wasn’t nearly as much of a physical target in his wheelchair.

We talked about telling our parents. I told him my father and I talked about everything and that the two of them would like each other and Dad would be totally accepting of our relationship. John looked a little skeptical, but I told him just to trust me and wait and see for himself.

The difficult thing we talked about was John’s parents. While he said his mom wouldn’t have any problems with us being together, he just didn’t know about his dad. He said his father was very disappointed his son wasn’t a big athlete and hadn’t been able to do things growing up other kids did with their dads; he’d wanted to play touch football and wrestle and play tennis and all sorts of things like that with John and hadn’t been able to.

John said that the two of them weren’t real close. They didn’t talk about personal stuff and that his dad got uncomfortable if John talked about any problem he had due to his condition. He knew he was a disappointment to his dad, and this might just be another disappointment for him. Maybe a big one. Maybe too big a one.

I hated that John’s mood had soured. I changed the subject as quickly as I could.

We talked about Terry. We both were sure he’d be happy for us. He was the first one we were going to tell that we were together. We both looked at Terry as a very, very special friend.

We talked about a lot of things, personal things, remembered things. We talked about our feelings, likes and dislikes, writing, favorite books and authors, movies and music—all sorts of things. We had a whole lot to find out about each other.

The talking lasted for hours. We lay on his bed, touching each other, occasionally kissing, sometimes caressing, but mostly just talking and being together. I told him about my childhood, what my family had been like, about my parents, about stuff I’d kept hidden. I felt incredibly free, able to say whatever I wanted to without having to think about what I needed to hold back. He talked about the problems he’d had with his condition, how angry he used to get, how it felt not being able to do the things other kids could. He told me he was amazed that I seemed to simply ignore his condition.

The more we got to know each other, the deeper our relationship grew. When you have deep feelings for someone, it’s funny how learning more and more about them can feel so good, so right. It even feels important. It’s like they’re becoming part of you, and they mesh with you perfectly. Every new thing you learn improves your feelings of intimacy. Every fact seems to make the other person so much more real. More real, more human, more loveable. Especially when you realize he’s feeling the same as he learns about you.

We were talking about what things John had most resented about being in his wheelchair at school. I’d begun making the odd sarcastic remark, prodding him with the occasional tease, but doing so with warmth and compassion. I realized how exceptional it felt that I could do this. I’d never felt so close to anyone, and this had grown from that feeling. Then, for about the third time in the last hour, John got a bemused expression on his face and stopped talking. I asked him about that.

“Tim, I’m just noticing something, and it seems strange.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, remember when we met? Up until today, every time we met, you were sort of quiet and reserved. You didn’t say much, you volunteered almost nothing, and you did a lot of thinking. Basically, I thought you were withdrawn.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I was hiding myself, and it’s hard to do that if you’re talking a lot. I guess I learned to keep things in. That’s one reason I feel so incredible talking to you like I am now. But what’s that got to do with anything? What’s strange?”

“It seems strange because for the past hour or so, you’ve been different. You’re teasing me and kidding me and making jokes, making me laugh. You’re challenging me about things. You just weren’t like that before. It’s like your personality is changing. What’s going on?”

I thought about it and realized he was right. The pressure I’d been living with for months, the need to keep everything inside of me, was gone. I didn’t need to keep myself hidden in the shadows any longer, to restrain my personality. I felt free. And with that freedom, my old personality, the slightly cocky, slightly irreverent, sort of wise-ass, happy-go-lucky, more assertive me was re-emerging. And that made me excited. I was starting to feel like me again. It had been so long.

And with this realization, I couldn’t help feeling a moment of fear. “John, what you’re seeing now is the real me. Not the one that was hiding. But you fell in love with the scared me, the timid me. That’s not really who I am. It’s who I was for a while, but I think that person is gone. Do you think you’ll be able to like this me? This is really who I am, and I don’t want to be that other guy any more.”

John looked at me, then paused, and appeared to be thinking deeply. Finally he said, “Gee, I don’t know, Tim. I sort of liked that other guy. Maybe we’d better rethink this whole thing.”

I reacted. I reached over and began tickling him. I don’t know why that occurred to me, but his statement was so apparently false, I figured if he could tease me, I could tickle him back.

I was gentle, as I now was instinctively with John, but I was still determined, and he was quickly laughing uncontrollably, and squirming around trying to protect himself.

“Take it back John, take it back, or this will go on forever,” I said, tickling his pits and his sides and anything else I could get to through his rapidly moving screen of knees and elbows and arms and legs.

“Okay, okay, quit it,” he screamed, and I did. “Okay, I’ll take it back. Although that meek little guy who ran away all the time never would have attacked me like that. I think I liked him better.”

“Well, I’m hoping he’s gone forever. You’ll just have to get used to me.” And I kissed him. The kiss turned from playful to deep and passionate.

Lights flashing over his bedroom window cautioned us John’s parents were home. While they were parking the car in the garage, we were quickly dressing, and when they came in and his mom came to his room to check on him, the door was open, the bed smooth and innocent looking and we were playing a video game.

“Tim! How nice to see you again! Hi, honey, is everything all right? Did you boys get some dinner?”

“Yes, Mom, we ate, thanks. Hey, is it all right if Tim stays over? We lost track of the time. Is that okay?”

Her face lit up in a broad smile. “Of course, if his parents are all right with it.” It seemed she was very happy at the idea of someone spending the night at John’s. I realized John was right about her concerns about him.

“OK, I’ll call,” I said, and did. My dad was very pleased I was doing this, too. He hated me being as reclusive as I’d been. He remembered how I used to be. Back when I’d been happy.

I got to meet John’s father, and I liked him. He was pleasant and friendly and seemed very nice. Surprisingly, as I watched him interact with John, I saw pride and even love in his eyes. Thinking about that later when I had the chance, I began to wonder if maybe John’s problem with his father might not be quite what he thought it was. Could it be that John felt guilt about not being able to do the things that he only thought his father wanted of him? Was it possible John was projecting his own feelings about his disability onto his father? I knew I’d be spending a lot of time with John. I’d probably get to see this relationship first hand. Maybe I could help John and his father get closer. Maybe I could see what his mom felt about it.

Spending the night with John was great. When he shut the door, he very quietly locked it, then slipped out of his briefs. I got to see him standing nude before me in the room before he turned out the light. I’d seen him that way all afternoon, but it still was a thrill. It still made me hard.

I’d thought maybe we’d just go to sleep, but sharing sex with another boy was still absolutely new to John and he was insatiable. Not that I objected. I was as ready and eager as he was. We didn’t get to sleep till very late, and we were both exhausted by then. We slept till past noon.

~    ~

Sunday, we had breakfast at 1 PM and didn’t feel a bit guilty about it. Mrs. Bauer made us waffles and eggs and chattered like I was her best friend. She was obviously happy to have me there. Mr. Bauer asked questions, but not intrusive ones, so I didn’t feel a bit like I was being grilled.

John was being sarcastic and sharp and I laughed at him and rolled my eyes along with his parents. I went with him to his bedroom when we were stuffed to the gills and asked him something.

“John, I feel like bursting. I’m so happy, your parents are great, and I want to tell them. But we agreed you’d talk to your mother first. It’s funny, but I feel this great need to talk to people, tell them how happy I am. So, I’ve got an idea. The two people we’re going to tell are Terry and my dad. I want to do it all at once. I can’t wait. How’s about we grab Terry, go to my house, and tell them together?”

John looked at me and started to look a little worried. “I’ve never met your father, Tim. He’s going to see this kid in a wheelchair, you’re going to tell him we’re boyfriends, and I don’t know what’ll happen. I trust you and all, but still…”

“John, trust me a little more. This will work; I told you that, and I need you to believe me. I feel like jumping up and down, like you feel at Christmas when you’re six. I want to do this. Please, John? Pleeeeeease? For me?”

He looked at me, and started to look disgusted, a mock disgusted, but disgusted just the same. So I made my hands into claws, started wiggling my fingers, and with a sadistic look on my face, slowly advanced on him. He got a look of shock on his face, yelled, “No, not the tickle machine,” started laughing, and gave in completely.

I called Terry. He was done with church and was so curious he couldn’t contain himself. I told him to meet us at my house at 2 o’clock. And that I was going to call my father and have him pick us and my bike up, and Terry could ride in the back of the truck if he wanted to. He said, rather amusedly I thought, that he’d make other arrangements. And he did. He came on his bike.

At two, we were all sitting in my living room. Dad and Terry were in upholstered chairs, and John and I were on the couch. I’d introduced John and Dad when he’d driven over to pick us up.

Terry and Dad were looking at me. I was too content and amazingly happy to feel nervous. I imagined I looked like the cat that had stolen the cream. I just started talking.

“Dad, Terry, we have some things to say. First, John and I are boyfriends. It’s actually a little more than that. We love each other, more than I can say in words.”

Dad looked a little surprised. Terry said, “Yes!” and pumped his fist in the air. Then he jumped out of his chair and came over and hugged John, a really affectionate hug that lasted a bit, and then did the same with me. I was probably imagining it, but his eyes looked a little moist to me. I guess one hug wasn’t enough for him, because before returning to his chair he hugged John again. They’d been friends for a long time. The depth of Terry’s feelings for John were apparent.

I had a lot more to say and, after Terry had high-fived both of us—John gently—and returned to his seat, I continued.

“Dad, you’ve been telling me all the problems we had back in Lakeshore weren’t my fault. Terry, you told me the same thing. Then, John did. Well, I must be stubborn, because I wasn’t listening to any of you, but it’s finally dawned on me that you guys are right. It’s finally sunk in. John made me realize that I’d been upset more than anything else by my mom rejecting me. I was so upset by it that I refused to face it. When I did, when John made me, I realized that she didn’t hate me, that she had personal problems that didn’t have anything to do with me. I thought about it, and it just finally became clear. He was right; you guys were all right. I didn’t do anything to cause her problems. None of it was my fault. I’m gay, but that didn’t cause the problems. It’s taken me far too long to understand that, but I do now. It’s still in the process of sinking in, but I feel so good I want to shout out loud. And it’s because of all you guys in this room. I owe you guys everything. I love you guys.”

That’s when Dad, who did have tears in his eyes, came over and hugged me. He hugged me hard and long, and said to me, very softly, “I love you so much, Tim,” before releasing me. Then, instead of going back and sitting down again, he stood in front of John and said, “John, please stand up.”

Looking a little uncertain, John stood. Dad put his arms around him and started to hug, and I quickly said, “Dad! Be gentle!”

I’d told him about John’s problem when we’d put his wheelchair in the back of the truck, but John didn’t look in any way disabled, and I was afraid Dad would have forgotten. He hadn’t. The hug he gave John was much more tender than mine had been. Mine had been hard and firm and came from over a year of worry. John’s was loving and soft and kind.

“John, you’re more than welcome here. I want to see you here a lot. Looking at Tim now, he looks just like he used to look. His whole demeanor and body language are different; there’s more life in him. There’s been a cloud over him for a long time. I think you’ve had a lot to do with getting rid of that. Thanks for helping me get my son back.”

John looked a little shocked, but then developed a huge smile, and he returned my father’s hug. It looked to me like he held on longer than he needed to. I think he liked the affection he was receiving. Maybe he was also feeling some relief that my father could act like that after finding out he was my boyfriend.

When everyone was seated again, I turned to Terry. “Terry, you are the best friend I could ever have. You’ve been more than a friend. You saw a kid who needed a helping hand, and you gave him your whole arm. John tells me that’s the way you always are. You’re incredible and, if I ever stop telling you that, please believe me, I’ll never stop thinking and feeling it.”

John piped up. “Me too, Terry. We both feel that way.”

Terry blushed. “Hey guys,” he sputtered, “you know I hate that mushy stuff. Cut it out.”

My father spoke up at that point. “That goes for me, too, Terry. If there’s ever anything you need, any kind of help, don’t feel the least bit shy coming to me. Please. It would be an honor to help you.”

After that, I let the other guys talk. There were lots of questions for John and me, about how we’d told each other we liked one another, when we’d known, that sort of thing. I wasn’t embarrassed and neither was John. We kept getting congratulated, and it was a wonderful feeling, being with two people who loved and supported us. It was an amazing afternoon.

~    ~

Monday, I was eating lunch with John when Terry showed up. Much to my surprise, he was ushering in a very hesitant, resisting and embarrassed Eliot Barrenger.

“Hey guys, can we join you?” Terry asked as he was pulling chairs out from the table.

This was strange. I looked at John and he looked at me, and neither of us said a word.

Terry was smiling and happy. Eliot looked nervous and uncertain. Knowing how Eliot was, I wondered why he’d agreed to come. I was going to say something to calm him, then realized in all the times I’d eaten with him, we’d never spoken at all, with the exception of a few words on the first day when he’d been trying to get rid of me. Thinking of that, I decided I could do a lot better than he had.

“Hey, Eliot. I’m glad you can join us. And I want to say something. The other day you looked over at us and we laughed. I want to tell you, we weren’t laughing at you, even if it did look that way. We weren’t.”

“Yeah, Terry told me that.” He sounded gruff, but then, he spoke so little, maybe his voice box was rusty.

John spoke up. Which worried me, because John was usually sarcastic and confrontational. I loved it when he was that way with me; it allowed me to be the same back to him. I didn’t know how Eliot would react, however.

“Hey, man, welcome. Except for the tall dude with us, this could be the outcast table now. We could have our own club.”

Being John, he didn’t crack a smile. He always left it up to the person he was addressing to decide if he was trying to be funny or not.

Eliot looked at him for a second, then said, “I don’t see any outcasts here. Just four independent people who don’t mind being individuals.”

My mouth fell open. I couldn’t help myself. “Eliot! You spoke! You said something! And it was really smart! Way to go, bro.” I reached up, offering a high-five to him.

He looked at my hand, then very tentatively, slowly, reached up and softly slapped it. A sort of half smile crossed his lips. “I never did that before,” he said softly. “Always wanted to. It always looked kinda cool.”

He looked down in embarrassment. I thought I’d give him some space. He’d already said more than I’d ever heard him say. I turned to Terry and raised my eyebrows.

He looked only the slightest bit uncomfortable. Then he said, “Well, I needed another project.”

I looked at John. He looked at me. Somehow, for some reason, we both looked at Terry at exactly the same time and said, in unison, “St. Terry!” And then burst into spontaneous laughter.

Epilogue

A few days later, I bumped into Terry in the hall while I was hurrying to my History class. Something was bothering me.

“Terry, I just remembered your Citizenship report. You know, the one I’m helping you with by letting you interview me—when’s it due, anyway?”

Terry blushed. That was odd. Terry rarely blushed. The most self-confident guy—the guy that had it all together more than anyone I knew—was embarrassed! What was that all about?

“Terry?”

He looked very sheepish. “Tim, I handed in my paper a week ago.”

“What!”

“Well, it was due, what was I supposed to do?”

“But… but, how could you do that? You hadn’t even finished talking to me at that point!”

“Oh, I made something up. I used you as the subject. You’re new, and the teacher doesn’t know you from Adam. So, I just made up a lot of crap. Creative writing! I got an A,” he said proudly.

“Terry! You put me through hell! Every question you asked me hurt! I struggled answering each one and sweated all the way through it. How could you do that!”

“I had fun. Didn’t you?”

“Fun?! FUN! I’m going to kick your ass, you dumb shit!”

“Oh, kinky sex! I love it! S&M! With a gay guy! Let’s get it on, dude!”

I looked at him. He had a huge grin on his face. I thought about what to say, and then, slowly, a smile formed. I looked at him with pseudo-arrogance in my eyes and said, haughtily and with great disdain, “Sorry, man, no S&M for me. I’m taken.”

And then I really did smile. He couldn’t, in his wildest dreams, no matter what, possibly know how good it felt, being able to say that. To say I was taken. And to know it was true, and that he loved me as much as I loved him. Being loved by the sexiest boy in the universe. What more could anyone want?

THE END