Boy Midflight (13 page)

I am not thirty or six or five

One knows today and in all tomorrows

I am One and One is holding me

“Ashley, is he the one?”

“No.”

“Ashley, when I look at the future, I see you. I see us together. I just know it. It’s this feeling I get whenever I see you. Like I’m on a roller coaster.”

“How do you know it’s not just about sex? Maybe you just want to see what it’s like to be with a boy.”

“That’s not it. I mean, yeah, part of it is that I think every six seconds of making out with you. But it’s so different. It’s not that you’re a boy or a girl; it’s totally different. I just want to know everything about you.”

“I have to go… to bed. We have that shoot tomorrow. I need to leave,” I stammer.

“Okay, we’re staying here together, remember?”

“Right. Yeah, we should just go to sleep, I think. Big day tomorrow.”

“Okay. Are you feeling all right, Ashley? You aren’t sick, are you?”

“No, just a little overwhelmed.”

“Which side do you want?” Mikal asks.

“Which side of what?”

“Which side of the bed do you want? Do you have a preference?”

Oh my God. Hello! This room only has one bed! Why does this room only have one bed? Who thought of this? Were Ferni, Mikal, and I all going to sleep in one bed? Why didn’t I notice that before?

“Umm… I can just sleep on the couch here. You take the bed, Mikal.”

“You’re not sleeping on this thing. It’s not even a couch, it’s a love seat. You’ll wake up needing a chiropractor.”

We’ve been sitting on a love seat?

“Okay, well, I guess the left side is great, closest to the window,” I say.
So I can fly out and escape to Neverland in the middle of the night.

I walk to the bathroom and close the door. I grab my toothbrush and start to vigorously clean. Always too aggressive, my dentist says. Use a softer brush. I hate soft brushes. I lean against the sink and stare into the mirror.
Am I falling in love with him? You already have. That’s not a question.
I wash my face and hum nervously into the splashing water. Something from Sondheim’s
Into the Woods
.
Get over it, Ashley. He’s not that spectacular. I mean he’s eight years older than you. He was eighteen when I was ten. I was four when he was twelve. When I’m twenty-eight, he’ll be thirty-six. He’ll be able to tell me what forty is like and I’ll have eight years to prepare. I’ll be eighty and he’ll be eighty-eight. It probably doesn’t matter anymore by then. Except when you reach one hundred, then it’s like a celebration. And he could celebrate for eight years until I start. When you’re ninety you’re just old but making it to one hundred is like, wow, that’s something to really talk about. Okay, but right now I am eighteen and Mikal is twenty-six, with a little boy. I’m a boy. Seriously, I am still a boy. He’s a man. A full-grown man. Totally. He looks like a man. Full-on man muscles, man chiseled face, man voice. I think I’m a man, but I’m still in man/boy stage. What if I grow into my full-on man stage and he doesn’t like it? What if Mikal only likes me because I am man/boy? I can’t stay man/boy forever. No matter what I do. Can I? I don’t know what will change, but things will. Older people are always saying things don’t stay the same.

Oh my Antonio! I am getting older right now! I can see it in the mirror. If I look really closely, I can actually see the skin around my eyes starting to pucker. And my jaw is widening. Did I just spring a hair on my chest? Shit. I’m going to go out there and Mikal will say, “What the hell happened to you? You were hot when you were man/boy. Now, not so much.”

Hold it! Okay. Attention! We need to figure out what is going on—right now. Organize the facts.

Fact: to the best of our knowledge, I am dating Chris.

Fact: I have not seen or spoken to Chris for over two weeks.

Fact: Mikal has stated definite interest in our territory.

Fact: Mikal is super hot.

Fact: Mikal is genuinely loving, even as I hold him at arm’s length.

Question from the council: Were you in love with Chris, or in love with the idea of being in love?

No comment.

Question from the council: We’ve seen pie charts, addendums, and illustrated diagrams of your ideal mate. Mikal fits all listed descriptions. Is he what you call the One?

“Ashley, you okay, buddy? I got you some water here.”

“Be right out.”

Meeting adjourned.

I open the door and step into the warmth of the hotel room. The window, closest to my side of the bed, is open and the wind is rustling through the palm trees. The lights are all out but one, on the nightstand on my side of the bed. Mikal is already under the covers. Shirt off, one arm crooked behind his head. He smiles. “I built a Wall of China for us.”

“A what?” I ask.

“A Wall of China. I folded a blanket up and placed it under the covers between us. I thought it might make you sleep easier.”

“Mikal, I’m not worried about you. I appreciate the gesture, though.” I pull off my shirt and unbutton my jeans. After tossing them on the love seat, I crawl into the left side of the bed. I laugh as I feel the Wall of China on my arm and leg. “Good night, Mikal,” I say, turning out the light.

“Good night, Ashley.”

I lay in the dark stillness and try to control my breathing. I don’t want to sound like I’m sucking air. After all, this is the first time we’ve slept together. I mean, we’re not really sleeping together, but we’re in the same bed.
He could be naked over there. I didn’t see a shirt. He may sleep in the buff. And I’m just in my skivvies over here. All that’s separating his skin from mine is the Wall of China.
A formidable barrier, yes, but scalable.
You are not scaling the Wall! You are staying right here and going to sleep.

I lay on my back with my head facing the window. The warm salty air spills over the windowsill in a stream of magical light. I think I can hear the ocean lapping the beach. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight…. I can see eight stars from here. A perfect night. I turn my head and rest my eyes on Mikal, his chest rhythmically rising and falling. The shadows play perfectly in the valley between his chest and the crook of his arm still tucked behind his head.
What would it hurt if I just placed a hand on that chest?

I’d like to just hold his hand as we fall asleep.
Would that be wrong? I could just tear away this stupid Wall of China and surrender.
His lips, pink and slightly parted, his jaw slightly rough and unshaven. What a startling and beautiful contrast. I settle on Mikal’s eyes, those big green almonds that look on me with so much care and concern. Now closed with his impossibly long dark eyelashes minutely dancing on each other. Are a guy’s eyelashes allowed to be that long and full?

I’d give anything to feel those icicles forming on my spine again. To press against this god’s warmth, curling one hand around that bicep. Mikal, my angel. My guardian. “Good night, handsome,” I say and turn to the window, closing my eyes.
Did I just say that out loud? I did.

Then whispered across the darkness: “Good night, beautiful.”

I smile and drift off to sleep. Tomorrow is bursting with promise….

MY EYES
flicker open and I blink to adjust to the sunlight on my face. I feel warm and happy. And I’m hugging an arm draped around me.
Oh shit.
The Wall of China has fallen. It must be somewhere at our feet or on the ground, but it’s definitely not serving its purpose. I am resting comfortably in Mikal’s loose embrace. Curled up in a perfect spoon with his chest rising and falling against my back. His warm breath tickling the back of my neck. Oh yeah, here come the icicles again. I can smell him. It’s a good smell of faint cologne and clean man. I mention this because it is all too often not the case. When a couple of guys share a room, and I’m not talking about sex, it tends to take on the flavor of a locker room. It starts at puberty I think. That’s why every thirteen-year-old guy wears half a bottle of cologne. Some guys just smell more, though. They can shower right before bed and in the morning you need a gas mask to enter the room. I have a buddy like this, love the guy but would like to send him to the showers every couple hours. I always think about his girlfriend. How does she stand it? Or maybe he smells to her like Mikal smells to me right now…. No, I doubt it. I look at the clock. Eight thirty. Five more minutes won’t hurt. I close my eyes and snuggle into Mikal a little tighter.

“Ashley. It’s eight thirty, we gotta get moving.” Fernando.
What is he doing here?
I leap out of bed, tossing Mikal’s arm to the side, waking him.

“Fernando. When did you get here?” Mikal asks, rubbing his eyes.

“Oh, I’ve been here for about half an hour, just waiting for you boys to wake up. I didn’t want to disturb you, you looked so comfortable.”

“How was your night, Ferni?” I ask.

“Cool, Chelsea’s hot. We had fun…. What did you boys do?” he asks wryly.

“Nothing. We just hung out and went to bed. To sleep I mean. We were really tired,” I say trippingly.

Fernando smiles at me, then walks to the open window, stretching his arms up over his head. He seems so comfortable with the whole gay thing. I wonder if he ever….

“So today’s the big kiss. Did you guys practice, or are you just going to wing it for the camera?” Ferni asks, turning back to our disheveled bed and laughing. I feel my face flush. Drunken heat.

“Yeah, we tried it once,” Mikal answers. I shoot him a look, which he doesn’t notice.

“How’d you like it, Mikal? Your first time?” Ferni presses.

“It was great. Ashley made it very comfortable.”

Comfortable? Is that what it was to Mikal? Comfortable? Was I the only one ready to blast off?

“How about you, Ferni? Have you ever been with a guy? You seem pretty interested in all this,” Mikal asks as he rises from the bed, rubbing his chest.

“Yeah, I’ve been with a guy. When I was twelve and thirteen. It was fun. We’d play soccer and then play with each other’s bits at his place. It was all over when he jizzed in my mouth, though. I couldn’t stand that salty taste. I’ve been with ladies since.”

I love the guy. Blunt and humorless. No shame. “So you’ve never been with a guy since?” I ask.

“Nope.”

“Never wanted to again?”

“Nope. I tried it; it wasn’t my preference, so I moved on. All right, enough sex talk. We gotta get moving, boys.”

I laugh and pull on my jeans. “Back to LA.”

I SETTLE
into the big brown leather chair in my hotel room overlooking Santa Monica. Despite some contrary opinions I feel this city lives up to the names of faith bestowed on it. Hardly a city to be scared in, there are in fact angels everywhere. Pulling the heavy chair up to an equally massive desk, I flip open my laptop and log in. E-mail. My lifeline to the world. You’d think Chris, somewhere on his travels thus far, might have run into a computer if not a telephone. Scrolling through twenty-two fresh envelopes, one jumps out at me.

Ashley—

Hey friend. I’m sure you are enjoying your new L.A. lifestyle. Just wanted to say hello and give you a few scoops from home. Michelle got a cruise and left about a week after you. I took your solo in the year-end show. Chris is dating a guy from Vegas. Sounds really happy.

Later, Jeremy

Blood. Pouring out. Love is a thorny seed pressed into the heart. It grows but twists and tears as it does. Sweet and horrible. The inescapable mingling of pain and joy. A package deal.

That asshole! Dating someone else! What a jerk! So he keeps me in torturous silence for weeks and then I find out from his ex-boyfriend of all people that he’s screwing around.

I feel so stupid. Did I make up my relationship with Chris? Did it really exist? He never loved me. It was sex, simply sex. That’s it. Here I am, the chump. Thinking we had this beautiful, wonderful thing and he’s cheating. Hurt and alone again.

Did Jeremy know? Did he know about Chris and me? He must have, why else would he send an e-mail so pointed? That didn’t breathe innocence. That reeked of a dagger. I deserve it. Karma. I fell for Chris and shafted Jeremy. Now I taste the bitterness myself.

What is wrong with me? Why didn’t I see this coming? He never even loved me. Is it too much to ask for true love? Why tell fairy tales if they are impossible to find?

All I want is someone to share my life with. Someone who loves me. Someone I can love. I’m so tired of mind games and deceit. I want a guy who is up front and steadfast.
Nice way to dump me! I wonder when he’ll actually have the balls to call? Or write or e-mail. Oh my Antonio…. My ex’s ex dumped me on the Internet. I am so pathetic.

No. I’m not going to sit and wait. I’m going to let the coward know what I think.

Dear Jerk—

So when were you planning to tell me about your new boyfriend? In Madrid? When you arrived in Nepal? I was relieved to hear that you are safe and alive. Although it sucked to have to hear it from your ex. Obviously you had time to call him. Three weeks with no word from you had me worried. Guess I shouldn’t have been.

See, I thought we were together. Which made me think you’d call or write or yell across the country to reach me. When someone is important to me, I keep them a part of my life. I don’t know if you received my letter, Chris. I hope you didn’t because I feel like a fool to have written it. I’m not sure why I believed you loved me or why you’d be faithful. You cheated on Jeremy to be with me. Once a cheat, always a cheat, right?

That’s it. I sincerely hope you are happy and healthy and enjoying ship life. Maybe I don’t have to be sad. Maybe we never had a relationship. Then I have nothing to mourn, right?