Boy Midflight (10 page)

“Look, Ashley, I’m a little drunk, you’re a little drunk. I think we just got confused here. When I invite a guy over it’s just to have a beer, maybe watch some TV, shoot the shit. When you invite a guy over it’s obviously about something else.”

“Mikal, that’s not what this was about. I just thought that’s where you were headed and I wanted to be upfront. I feel like such a loser. Look, I’m gonna go to bed. Can we just pretend this never happened?”

Mikal looks rigid, like every muscle is flexed and he could strike. He breathes in deeply, looking into my eyes, then looks to the carpet right beside my feet and exhales through his teeth. “Yeah, no problem,” he says with a shrug. His body relaxes and his face loses its severity. “Sleep well. You might want to ice your fist. It could sting in the morning.”

“Yes, Coach! Good night.” I try a little laugh but it comes out strained. I turn and make for the door. I pull it shut behind me and lean against the doorframe for an instant, releasing the breath I’ve been holding in my throat for the past three minutes. Wishing I could be just a little more inebriated, I head for the elevator. Unfortunately, I know I’m going to remember this in the morning.

IHOP…. SANTA
Monica…. Way too early.

Fernando banged on my door this morning at 7:00 a.m. bearing a smile and a protein shake. Although going for a run was not my idea of killing a hangover, I figured having him to hang out with would at least help clear my head.

Sweat beads still line my forehead as I peruse the menu. I hear the faint cry of seagulls over the din of coffee cups clinking, forks scraping glass plates, and my own breath returning to a regular rhythm.

“You look like shit. What happened last night?” Ferni asks, wiping his brow with a fistful of paper napkins.

I shut my menu and look up at him. “Nothing, we just…. I went to bed.”

“Bullshit. I can tell you didn’t have sex, and I can tell you didn’t sleep. So what’s up?”

“He’s not gay, Ferni. I don’t know why I even went up there. I was drunk, I guess. So was he. I thought he was coming on to me, so I told him about Chris and he kind of flipped. I think he was pissed I thought he was gay.”

“Hmmm….”

“Good morning. What can I get you boys?” Team IHOP interrupts our conversation.

“Summer Slam and a coffee please,” I say, processing the waiter before me. A lifer, probably has spent the last twelve years serving breakfasts to hangovers. Highlighted hair, capped teeth, deep tan. No doubt showed up from Missoula, Montana or Lethbridge, Alberta with James Dean as his aspiration. He shot a spec commercial for Doublemint Gum in 1993. He’s still waiting for that big break, but his agent has stopped calling. Damn, I’m a bitch before I get my morning caffeine.

“Make that two, but OJ instead of coffee,” Ferni says, handing our menus to the waiter, who nods and walks away, never having brought out an order pad. “So was it okay or was it awkward after that?”

“Pretty awkward, I mean how would you feel if I thought you were gay?”

Ferni just shrugs. “It’s just so weird. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, like a choice cut sirloin.”

“He said he wanted to protect me.”

“Who is he? Superman?” Ferni laughs, leaning back and resting his elbows on the back of the booth. “And what’s he trying to protect you from?”

“I don’t know. I’m sure I was reading into it after you said that stuff at Saddle Ranch. See? This is your fault. Whatever. I don’t care. I have my own issues with Chris.”

“You don’t care if things get weird with Mikal?” Ferni asks, smiling a “don’t lie to me” smile.

“Well, yeah, of course I care. I want it to be the way it was yesterday. I don’t want any weird tension. Let’s talk about something else already.”

“All right, all right. So what do you wanna do after? Grab a football and head to the beach?”

“Perfect. I’ll kick sand in your face for trying to set me up with a straight guy.”

“BLUE FORTY-TWO!
Red nineteen! Green twenty-four!” Ferni yells. I cut a boomerang pattern in the sand as I run to make the catch. Ferni tosses a wobbly spiral, which bounces off my chest and rolls down the beach. I take my time chasing after it. The sun is hot, and I already have a light sweat worked up. Turning back to Ferni with ball in hand, my breath catches. Mikal is standing with him, shirt off, board shorts hanging on his hips, and Ray Bans making him look like a movie star. I take a deep breath to try to control the quivering in my stomach.

No big deal, right? Yesterday’s already forgotten. Besides, I have nothing to feel shitty about. It was an honest mistake. Maybe he’s just one of those straight guys who gets off on having Gaybees fall for him.
Gaybees? Who says Gaybees?
I do and I like it, so shut up. Don’t kick me when I’m already down. You know, Moes, Gaybees, Sistas, the Scarecrow, Tinman, and Lion… whatever. Mikal is not one of us. I hate him. I hate him for being so fuckin’ smug. Look at him. Yeah, it’s easy to be gorgeous and straight, brother. Fuck, if only life were that easy. He was born and grew up an American prince. Perfect. His favorite color is blue, he likes football, hockey, and chicks. Where’s your struggle, pal? What makes life challenging? Maybe straight, gorgeous, white men are here to more clearly juxtapose the rest of us. Maybe I’m just being a bitch.

“Hey, Ashley, how’s it going?” Mikal asks, lowering his shades so I can get a better view of his fucking beautiful green eyes. I realize I’m probably scowling at him and he has no idea why.

“Fine.”
Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.
“You?”

“Great.”
Genetically superior. Regal. Exceptional. Aspirational. Thanks for asking.

“Umm… I’m gonna go get some water. Back in a bit, all right, boys?” Ferni says over his shoulder, already headed toward the pier.

“Can we go for a walk?” Mikal asks, replacing his shades.

“Sure, what’s up?” I ask, fearing the worst.
This is it, all the shit he forgot to say last night is about to come out. He’s gonna say it would be better if we didn’t hang out, if we just maintained our distance for the rest of the contract. So? What do I care? Here it comes, I’ve heard this speech before…. “It’s not that I don’t like you, it’s just that I don’t like homos.”

“I’ve been thinking about last night a lot. Actually, I never really slept,” Mikal offers.

“Look, let me make this easy for you. You’re not gay… blah, blah, you think I’m a cool guy but you were a little freaked out by last night… blah, blah, you just want to keep it professional… blah, blah, it’s nothing against me, blah, blah, blah. There, easy, now you can sleep,” I say, feeling better for taking control of the situation.

“That’s not what I was going to say, Ashley.” Mikal stops. “This is important. Will you listen to me?”

I stop and plant my feet wide and deep in the sand and look at him. “Okay, first just let me say again, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have said anything. It was….”

“Ashley, stop. My turn. Look, I grew up in an Italian family, right? We don’t really talk about being gay or whatever. I mean, it’s not even an option. That’s why I was with Julie, and had Erik and tried to be a good dad for a while. I thought I could do it. It wasn’t distance that broke us up. It was me. I couldn’t lie to her anymore. I couldn’t lie to myself. There’s always been this part of me that knew, but I always tried to deny it. And I don’t get to see Erik every month. I hardly ever get to see him. Julie and Ródiney don’t really like me being around him. They think I’m messed up, because… I’ve only been with women, but I like guys, Ashley.”

I can’t speak or move.

“I was going to say something last night, but then you did first and it threw me. I got scared, and when you mentioned your boyfriend, I got angry because I was finally going to admit it to someone and my plan changed. I have no idea what I’m saying or what happened when we met. I just know all I think about is being with you.”

“Are you fucking with me? Mikal, do you even know what you’re saying? I told you last night, I have a boyfriend. I have Chris.” He looks at me and I’m run over with emotion. He looks like I just spit in his face. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be an ass. I’m sure this hasn’t been easy for you.”

“It’s all right. I’m the one who should be sorry. I could have been honest with you last night. I’m all messed up. I just don’t know what to do with all the feelings I’m having. I’ll try to make it like before. Pretend I never said anything.”

“No, no. I mean yes. I mean, it’s not you. Mikal, seriously, I’m just overwhelmed. I have Chris at home. Well he’s not even at home. Wherever home is. He’s moved to Miami. And he didn’t call. That’s weird, right? What’s he doing? Trying to get back at me for moving down here? I thought I was in love.”

A light in Mikal’s eyes dims, and I want to throw up. This whole week has unraveled me a bit. I wanted to make sure everything was in order before I left. That no one would step in any shit on my behalf. Looking forward to moving here. I mean, moving to
California
—this is my childhood dream. The hardest thing I’ve done was leaving Chris to pursue this.

There’s a storm inside my chest, wild and unsettled. Does he really feel that way about me? How could someone so perfect look at me like he does? I need to resist Mikal, be his buddy. I need to figure it out with Chris. I’m being irrational.
I take a step away from Mikal. “I should go. I’m sorry. Mikal, let’s make a promise. No weird tension, okay? Just two buddies hanging out, no weird shit.”

“Ashley, I hope he treats you really well. You deserve that.”

“Thanks. Can you tell Ferni I’m heading back to the hotel?” I ask, already turning away. Fernando was right. I never would have thought Mikal might like boys, much less this boy, yours truly. That ego boost is quickly dampened by my concern for Chris. He’ll call me. I know he will, in the next couple days. Or write; he knows where I’m staying.

When I get back to the hotel, I flop onto the bed, emotionally and physically exhausted. I hit the pillow and dream.

I’M A
horse, galloping over green hills. I come to a vast river. On the other side there are two more horses. One’s white and the other is black. They rear on hind legs and hoof the air, then run toward me. Neither pauses at the river but they go straight in, disappearing under the water. I wait and wait. Anxious. I gallop down to the river’s edge and pace back and forth, looking for any sign of them. After frantic searching, I decide it’s too late and turn back toward the hills, alone.

“SO YOUR
brother is in town tonight, huh?” Jordan asks between slurps on a protein shake.

“Yeah. I’m so excited. It’s been a while since I’ve seen him. I can’t wait to show him around LA.”

We walk down the Promenade in Santa Monica, not so interested in shopping today as in people watching. “Does he know you’re gay?”

“Yeah, I told him when we were home last Christmas. I was scared shitless. We were going to pick up his dogs at the kennel, and I think I almost had an ulcer trying to work up enough courage. He’s this big, tough military guy.”

“Sounds hot!” Jordan remarks, pulling down his sunglasses to meet my eyes.

“Eaewh! He’s my brother! Josh drives tanks and puts mud on his face. How is that hot?”

“Hey, we all have our fetishes.”

“Anyway, he’s coming to have a party weekend with some buddies in the Navy.”

“Sailors! Oh my God! We are so there! When does he get in to town?” Jordan asks, practically salivating.

“He should already be here. He’s supposed to call me on my cell.”

“Where are we gonna go? The Abbey? The Factory?” he asks, turning and running backward in front of me like a schoolgirl desperate for gossip.

“Hardly. I would have said Saddle Ranch but I think that option is gone thanks to you know who,” I say, poking him square in the chest.

“Yeah, right. I bet that cowboy has been having confusing dreams.”

“Definitely. Nightmares where you’re trying to kiss him. Some guys are straight, Jordan.”

“Until they meet me. Then everything changes. I give them a brand-new perspective. I’m like a guardian angel allowing straight men to have better sex.”

“You’re messed up.”

“No, I bring enlightenment.” Jordan sashays in front of me, dragging his hands across his torso. “You’ve heard of the six-beer rule right?”

“No. What’s that?”

“Well, you give a straight guy a six-pack and by the time he’s downed number six he’s gay or at least bi. You can mold him in your hands.”

“Yeah, right. He’s gay, bi, or will sucker punch you in the face. Didn’t you learn anything at the Saddle Ranch?”

“Cowboy had only drunk five beers. He wasn’t quite there yet.”

Ring. Ring. I flip open my cell.

“Hello?”

“Hey, buddy, it’s Josh.”

“Hey! So you got in okay? How was the flight?”

“Good. Good. What’re you up to?”

“Not much, just chilling at the Promenade with a buddy.”

I bat away Jordan’s hands as he tries to grab the phone from me, whispering, “Let me talk to him!”

“No.”

“What was that?” Josh asks.

“Nothing, I was just talking to my friend Jordan. So I thought we could meet up, and I can show you some of the places we’ve been shooting and this great bike shop in Venice.”

“I don’t think there’ll be time for all that. Me and the boys are gonna be starting to drink here right away.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Listen, why don’t you come over and we’ll party. You can crash here, and we’ll take you back to your hotel tomorrow.”

“All right, sounds great. Where are you at?”

“My buddies got a place on the beach in Venice. Hey, when you come can you uh… well, my friends, it’s not that they’re backwards or ignorant or anything… they just don’t know. So maybe… don’t be insulted or anything. Just don’t talk about… you know.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“So we’ll see you in a bit, then?”