Memorizing You (19 page)

Ryan’s household was exactly the opposite. His family celebrated the moon landing as America’s greatest achievement. They hung flags and banners out the door, had a NASA bumper sticker. Ryan’s dad went on and on about how America had never had such an honorable and patriotic president.$ foy fy

The world outside of us in those days had little recognition. First love consumes the details of everyday reality like a furnace. Barely a trace remains of anything that moved outside of us. Each day’s focus was how we could find time to be together; what hiding place would conceal the kisses we craved from the second our eyes opened. How long we would have before we were forced to re-emerge in their world as an obligation.

The loft of the barn became the choice location for the more serious, intimate liaisons. We could see the house from the small, upper story window, and there was enough distance for a hasty recovery of clothing.

Their refrigerator was always well-stocked with beer, and Ryan’s father never missed the few we parlayed for ourselves. Needless to say, we were eagerly perfecting our methods of exploring each other. There wasn’t an inch of each of us the other couldn’t outline like a map. I knew each spot on him that could produce a quiver; where to drag a fingertip to make him yield. I could sense the exact instant that he’d give himself to me by the intake of breath, the roll of his eyes; the arch of his back. He read me just as remarkably. We were addicted.

As the end of summer wound its way upon us, Judy and the clan headed off to Woodstock. The good ole hippie way. They rented a van and drove up to New York. I got the duty of house-sitting for a week. We sacrificed our morning runs for morning rendezvous. We were two kids in a candy store. There wasn’t a room we didn’t christen with a particular fantasy.

Ryan’s return to training and pre-season games was already on his plate. It had started later because of Missouri’s shortness of school funds that year. He was being rotated with Connor as they tried to determine who would be starting quarterback. They were pretty much equal in strengths and abilities.

The last weekend was his birthday. His parents planned a party at their house. Almost half the school was invited. I shopped a week to find an appropriate gift. Rather gifts. One that I could give him in the presence of his friends. One that was more personal.

It fell on a Saturday night, next to the last week of August. I would have to arrive later than most because my dad had overbooked some jobs for us. I hadn’t finished until well into dusk of evening. I was dirty, hot, and sweaty. By the time I showered and dressed, it was nearly eight o’clock.

Darkness had already fallen. I had one present in hand; one hidden in my back pocket. The one in my po anyone who thought theyHas the cket had cost me almost a week’s salary. It was in a jewelry box.

Their house was crammed with people. Most of them I recognized from school. Everyone seemed to have a date. The only one entering through the door alone seemed to be me. There were tables filled with gifts, paper banners, and helium-filled balloons. It looked like a party lifted out of the pages of a teen magazine depicting how to have a teenaged party.

Ryan looked incredible, decked out in a new pair of Wranglers and a bright blue shirt with an over-sized collar. He wore sharp-toed black boots with heels that made him a good inch taller. He’d taken Philippe’s advice and let his hair grow out a few inches in the past few weeks. It was surprisingly darker as it grew out. Much darker than his eyebrows. He looked handsome.

I placed the gift I carried in on the table with the rest. My special one was still in my pocket. I would hand-deliver that one later.

His mom and dad stayed pretty much away from the goings-on, except to refresh the fruit punch, or pour more chips and dip into bowls.

Most people had gathered into their prospective cliques. Football players and their dates to one side, regular classmates and their dates to another. I recognized a few people from track, but for the most part I was on my own. It didn’t bother me. Every now and then, Ryan and my eyes caught each other. We could read the thoughts behind them.

I’d just returned from the bathroom and as I re-entered the room, I saw Connor, Ryan’s team-mate, enter with his date. It stopped me still in my steps. It was Rosemary. Her eyes latched to mine briefly before she turned away. They made their way to the gift table to deposit their gifts, and then to Ryan. By his expression, I could see he was stunned to see her in the company of Connor as well. He recovered more quickly than I had. His smile returned in a flash as he shook her hand in greeting.

Interestingly, after her arrival, I felt out of place. I found myself sticking to corners where people weren’t. Watching out of the corner of my eye as she made her way around the room with her jock date, chatting and being friendly. I knew she knew where I was. No matter where they moved, she somehow was able to keep her back turned to me. She made Connor get her a cup of punch and bring it to her so she didn’t have to get too near my vicinity.

A few people made their way to me to be courteous. But the feeling of being out of place didn’t deteriorate. So I stepped outside. I wandered to Ryan’s garden. I found the stump just inside it and sat. Watching the windows, I could see everyone moving around beyond them. Hear the chatter and the laughter. I’d wished I’d resolved the differences between Rosemary and myself before this unexpected event. Now, it was just plain awkward. I didn’t want to go back inside.

I don’t know how long I’d sat there, but I found myself absently wishing I’d had a joint. It certainly would help relieve the angst I was experiencing. I realized I was slightly depressed. Here I was at the birthday party of the person I loved, sitting outside, feeling alone and dejected.

“You like to play the loner?” It was Ryan’s voice. His shadow moved through the garden toward me.

“More like odd man out,” I replied.

“Yeah. It took me by surprise too,” he joined me on the stump. “Guess Connor’s making his way through the entire student body.”

“At least he has a date he can be seen with,” I groaned.

He took my hand and cupped it between his own. “Just because someone can make a show of it, doesn’t mean it’s any better.”

“I know.” I tried not to sound depressed. It was his birthday, after all.

Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out the small box and handed it to him.

“What’s this?” he inquired.

He lifted the lid. His eyes took in the contents. Two necklaces. One bearing one half a heart each. A right side of a heart on one. A left side on the other. They were pure gold.

I slipped one out. “This one is yours,” I said as I draped it over his head. to the panties.

He slipped the other necklace over mine. “Two souls…”

I finished the sentence, “One heart.”

“Thank you,” he said, voice filled with emotion. “It’s the best gift yet.”

“You haven’t seen the really butch key-chain with the football helmet I gave you in the other box,” I said. “Your jock friends will all be jealous.”

His laughter came in an unexpected burst. As did his kiss. He grasped me by the neck and pulled me in. Our mouth’s both tasted like fruit punch.

I tucked his necklace inside the collar of his shirt. Unseen. I did the same with mine. Our secret.

“You need to get back to the party. You’re the one person who would be missed.”

“I missed you. That’s why I’m out here. I knew where you’d be.”

I pecked his cheek with my lips once more, and he headed back to the lights of the house. I remained on the stump. I was in no hurry to return to a crowd that had no place for me.

The rustling noise came from a few feet to the side of a large trellis of flowers. I looked toward it, but saw nothing. I looked deeper. There was a shadow there. It finally stepped out and to the side, into the path ahead of me. Sparse window light panned over the face. Rosemary. Her presence stunned me. I could say nothing.

“Well, that explains that,” Her voice was low, terse.

I felt drained of blood. “How long have you been standing there?” I asked, afraid.

“A while.”

The gap of silence spanned eternity. It was a silence that scared me.

She walked closer. I could see her eyes. There was anger in them. And tears.

“I can explain,” I said, numbly. I knew I had no explanation.

“I saw it all. I heard it all. You don’t have to explain anything.” Her tone was flat.

I was suddenly sick. My stomach roiled. My thoughts rolled in a thousand directions, all filled with panic. “It’s not…”

“That you’re gay? That you and Ryan are gay? That you’re lovers?”

Every word sounded like an accusation and a judgment.

My voice abandoned me completely. I didn’t know what to say. She moved closer. She stood above me, inches away, looking down at me. I dropped my head, studied my hands, kneading themselves.

“All this time, I thought it was me. That I’d done something wrong. That I was too aggressive.” She sighed, heavily. “And here it was I was just the wrong sex, and no-one bothered to tell me that. They just led me on, and let me make a fool of myself.”

My remorse was worse than I could have imagined. “I didn’t know what to do,” I vainly tried to explain. “I picked up the phone. I tried to call. I didn’t know what to say. There wasn’t anything I could say. It’s not something you can…just say.”

I saw her turn, look to the windows of the house. Her arms were folded in front of her. I was sure a million curse words were darting in her mind. I wouldn’t have blamed her for using all of them.

“I am sorry. I truly am anyone who thought theyHas the .” The words sounded very weak. Weak words are hard to believe, I thought.

She started back to the house. I called after her: “Rosemary, please don’t…”

She pivoted abruptly. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone your precious

little secret. I’m not that type of person.” This time her voice was angry. “I don’t enjoy hurting other people.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

Her back was to me again. In a small voice she said, “Well, you did.” Her arms dropped to her sides. Her fists unclenched. “All the things I heard the two of you just say to each other is what I felt for you. I imagined the two of us saying those things to each other. They were beautiful. And I want to cry right now because they weren’t mine to own. They’re Ryan’s. And he’s a very lucky guy. You’re a very lucky guy. And I’m outside of all of that.”

I nodded. “I know.”

She stepped back to me. “Well, now that I know it’s you…and not me, it’s good to know we can be friends again.”

Bewildered, I glanced up. I could see the smile even in the darkness.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Rosemary was good to her word. She forgave me, and we were friends

again. Ryan readily embraced her into our select group with open arms. It was nice to have another confidant to our secret. Another accepting soul. What was so intrinsically stupendous about Rosemary’s persona was how normal she made us feel by being so normal around us. It wasn’t like she was hanging with gay guys. It was like she was hanging around with $n’t di. My mindfriends who happened to be gay. We could kiss around her and cuddle. She’d just look away and make a humorous quip about razor-burn, or how she’d never really been into gay porn.

She began jogging with us. Went shopping for new school clothes with us. She practically chose everything the two of us would wear the next school year.

I quit track that semester. I just didn’t have time with the work schedule. But Rosemary and I’d make time to sit in and watch Ryan during practice and the pre-season games. It was like watching a gladiator. Those were her words. Not mine. But I agreed one hundred percent. When he moved across that field, he was an imposing figure. He looked powerful.

It took her a month to ask us any real personal questions. I couldn’t answer them. Ryan did so, unabashed. She lived vicariously through his stories of our sexual experiences. She wasn’t one bit embarrassed by it either. Connor had conspicuously gone by the way-side with her after the birthday party. He’d seen us sitting together on the bleachers, watching Ryan. It didn’t appear he was pleased.

The three of us studied together. What I wasn’t good at, Rosemary was. She was a whiz at math, and science, and sociology. And between the two of us, Ryan’s scholastics got better. Mine too.

She loved watching us workout. Ryan’s father looked at us like we were the Three Stooges. Like he couldn’t figure out what comedy was going on between the three of us. But it worked for us. When she was there, his periodic visits to check in on us got fewer and fewer. We’d find him later in the living room, passed out in a chair with
The Carol Burnett Show
on in the background. His mom was indulging in another late night cup of coffee in the kitchen. When her back was turned, three beers disappeared from the refrigerator and reappeared in our hands in the garden.

We learned that Rosemary was not unacquainted with the wonder of weed. She, in fact, had an older sister whose boyfriend dealt, and we occasionally benefited from that relationship. Almost every weekend of September that year, the three of us had a private camping party at the back of Ryan’s family’s lot where the tent was pitched with a campfire. Our sleeping bags were slung together. Ryan and me and then her at my back.

I’d always awake with her arms around the both of us. Ryan and I would kiss first. She would kiss us both last. She’d became an integral part of my and Ryan’s lives.$ in a y fy

I’m sure our school couldn’t figure out what was going on between the three of us at all. The speculation had to be insane seeing me hold hands with Rosemary one day, and then she holding Ryan’s the next. Then seeing us all together. I actually think Rosemary took delight in the idea that two men found her attractive and that the three of us were all close. No one ever said anything openly to our faces, and we were never privy to any gossip, but we knew it was there. You could see it in the eyes of those passing by. I know what I would have thought. I still get a private chuckle about this.