Outtakes Of A Walking Mistake (22 page)

“Well, I guess certain school board members are concerned about the content. They don’t want him to go any further until they see what he’s got.”

I roll my eyes knowing full well that the snots on the school board are not going to be happy. A boy attracted to another boy? We don’t have such a problem at Rivershore.

“So, is that the only reason you’re here?” I ask.

Looking down, Billy hesitates, digging in the grass with his toe.

To myself I think, tell me the film is just an excuse for you to see me. Tell me you’re here because your heart can’t remember how to find its beat when I’m not around. I can’t stand feeling like I’m the only one with feelings. Tell me I’m not bonkers; say there’s a spark. “I brought a gift,” he admits. My heart leaps the hurdle of self-doubt, as my eyes twinkle in delight. “Now, don’t have a brain spasm. It’s not a big deal.”

“Where is it?”

“It’s in the car. Can you meet out front?”

Still standing on the bed with a wide look of terror in her eyes, Jenny utters no. Quickly, I shake her negativity away and put the whole situation in perspective. Should I trust him with my heart? It’s a difficult question. When I tucked Jenny in bed last night, she told me that she may never trust another man again. That even if a man looks great on your pillow he’ll never be around when you need a place to rest your head.

Still, I agree to his request, urging him to remain invisible until I get outside. After all, I’m not done telling him off about Ashley.

Tripping over Jenny’s water bottle, I race to the closet and choose the best outfit for a bitch session. Red, I think to myself. Red is just the color to say I’m too hot and spicy to be walked on.

“What about your dad?” Jenny asks, as I squeeze into a red tee shirt. “He’ll see you going outside. He’s going to ask what you’re doing.”

This is true. But what if I’m going to the mailbox? What if this is just an innocent trip to see if I’ve been selected as a winner in some random sweepstakes that no one really wins? It could happen. So what if Billy’s there to share my victory? Maybe this is fate. “Dad will have to deal with it,” I say.

Taking a seat on the bed, Jenny appears stunned. When had I become so bold with boys? Usually, Jenny is the brazen one, and I’m the onlooker. But times have changed. I’m tired of standing behind the scenes.

“Going somewhere?” dad asks. In the kitchen, he’s still on the phone with mom as I casually make my way to the front door.

“Just checking the mail.”

“The mail doesn’t come ‘til noon. It’s early.”

Yes, but I’m late in the game called love, and if I want to check on the mail, or the male by the mailbox, I don’t need permission. I’m sick of this charade. I like boys. Get over it. I tired of sneaking around. For once, allow me an opportunity to drown in it.

“Be right back,” I say.

In the blazing heat, a blue-winged dragonfly whirls over my head as I make my way down the driveway toward Billy.

Leaning against his father’s old coupe parked on the street, Billy pats the side of the car like he wants me to lean beside him. I give in. I lean.

“So what did you bring me?” I huff.

“Oh, I get it. Right to business.”

“Time is money and my rates are going up.”

Playfully nudging me with his elbow, he hands me a square, navy box wrapped with a red bow. Small enough to fit in one hand, the box resembles a container one would use to present a piece of fine jewelry. “Go on, open it,” he says.

“This really isn’t necessary,” I reply, trying my best to remain peeved. Though truthfully, it’s hard to pretend this isn’t one of the greatest moments of my life.

Opening the lid, I discover the box is full of white powder. What’s this? Is this some kind of drug? Does Billy take me for an addict? Granted, I’m addicted to love but I don’t need an illicit substance to act on it. I’m ready, willing, and able. “Cool, right?” he says, as I force a smile.

“Uh.”

“So, do you like it?”

“Well, I want to. But I’m not sure what it is.”

Billy laughs. “It’s flour.” He dips his finger in the box and takes a lick.

“Flour?”

“Yeah. The first time I came to your house you said you never wanted flowers. They’re too ordinary, that’s what you said. So I figured why not give him flour instead. It’s different. He might like it.”

I do. In fact, I’m tickled pink, yellow, blue and every color of the rainbow. Goosebumps sugarcoat my body and just when I feel I can’t speak, three words fall from my lips. Not the ordinary I love you, but instead, “You remember that?”

“Of course. I remember everything you say.”

Well, thank God I never called him a rotten bastard for planning to attend the Monster Mash with Ashley.

“Take me somewhere,” I tell him.

“What? Where?”

“Anywhere. I need to talk to you, but not here.”

“Ok, whatever you want,” he says, racing to the driver’s seat.

In the car, I tell myself this is stupid. Dad is bound to go berserk when he looks outside and doesn’t find me. Still, consequences don’t matter when your heart is beating too loud to hear them.

So why is my stomach in knots?

Pressing the gas, Billy kills the radio, placing his hand on my knee. I smell his citrus cologne, and taking a breath, I think this is the scent I want to call home.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. When he talks, his voice tells me he cares. Like if I hurt, he hurts. Or maybe he just wants a blowjob. I DON’T KNOW. But I have to believe there’s more to a boy than a hard-on waiting to be sucked off. Still, the truth remains unclear. Where do we stand, Billy and me? All I have is this white flour and these white lies I tell myself.
He likes me. He only avoids me at school because he can’t control himself around me. Ashley is merely his cover, an itchy beard
.

“Wait, stop the car!” I order him. We near the neighborhood dog park comprised of two acres of green grass with a wooden pavilion for shade.

“What? I thought you wanted to go somewhere.”

“Just stop the car!”

Easing on the gas, Billy parks on the side of the road as an old woman with a white perm leads her black poodle onto the grass.

“Ok. What’s going on with you?” Billy asks.

“Just be honest. Why can’t you kiss me in front of other people? Am I that hideous?”

“Wait. Hold up. What the hell….”

“Just be quiet,” I interrupt. “You give me this gift and you tell me you remember everything I say, but will you remember me at school tomorrow?”

At a loss, Billy shakes his head like he can’t comprehend my words. How could I say such a thing? “Tye, I….”

“You don’t know what it feels like to be invisible.”

Lifting his hand to my face, Billy grabs my chin, forcing me to look at him. “I see you now,” he says. “Isn’t that enough?”

God, I’m melting. How can he be so cruel? He knows I can’t answer, not with his beautiful face getting in the way. So I stare into his eyes without saying a peep, trying my damnedest to have some dignity, some pride. Then I look away.

In the park, the black poodle plays with another small dog, sniffing its tail. If only life were that easy for humans. If only I could sniff Billy’s tail in the hall at school and not cause a stir.

Leash me. Muzzle me. I’ll be your dirty little doggy.

Just be proud I’m sniffing your tail. Boast to your friends and family. I’ll sniff all day if that’s what it takes. Just don’t pretend you don’t know me.

Oh invisible me! On the ride home, I give him the silent treatment.

“Come on. Say something,” Billy pleads, turning onto my street. “This is killing me.” But no, I hold to my guns. I can’t let this stupid boy think I’m stupid enough to let him have the best of both worlds. He should be carrying me around like a trophy, not leaving me to gather dust.

Liking guys – it’s complicated. This is what he tells me, that I should be more understanding. That’s his last ditch effort to get me to talk before he reaches my house. He says that he feels invisible too. Before me, he would spend hours on the Internet, in a mad search for someone, anyone like him: a normal guy who happens to like guys.

“I’m the furthest thing from normal,” I tell him, before exiting the car. Following, he blocks me from going any further toward the house.

“Just…just,” he says. He has no clue what to say. But does it matter? This is what cute guys do. They don’t have to say anything. They just have to put their beautiful face in your not-as-beautiful face to remind you that they are beautiful regardless of what they say. And you, not-as-beautiful, are supposed to turn into Silly Putty. And silly me, I do.

“Just, just kiss me,” I demand. “Before I lose my patience, just…”

His lips find me, locking down hard on my mouth seconds before his tongue tangles with mine for dominance. He’s insatiable. That’s ok. Let him devour me. There’s no reason to be ashamed. Sure, Jenny is watching from inside the house, clawing at the bay window and whispering no, no, no. Sure, Sergeant Dogshit, clad in his ridiculous stars and stripes boxers, is headed our way, marching his pug, Dookie. Does it matter though? No, not really. Let us entertain the masses. As actors, this is what we do. “Wait, we have to stop,” Billy urges, before Sergeant sees us. Breathing in short, heavy gasps, his fragile eyes force me to forgive him. “I can’t do this.”

“Come on. Now what?” I nearly cry.

“It’s my mom. She’s sick. She’ll get worse. I can’t tell her the truth.”

“You don’t have to tell her anything.”

Distressed, Billy lets out a sigh. “She has breast cancer.”

“Did I hear you say breast cancer?” Sergeant interrupts. I turn to view him as Dookie narrows in on my man. “My wife had breast cancer, God bless her. Did you know my wife?”

“Sergeant, not now…” I begin.

“She was a good woman. Served me deviled eggs every morning and a devilish kiss every night.”

“Another time,” I say.

Taking offense, Sergeant grows loud, his words exploding like smart bombs in my face. “Oh, you don’t want to hear about my wife.” Dookie sniffs at Billy’s sneakers. “She was the love of my life!”

“Ok, calm down,” I say. Irritated, I can’t help but empathize with him. They say love is a battlefield. And now I understand what war Sergeant has been fighting all along: the big one – the war of losing his wife.

“Let’s go, boy! They don’t give a hoot about my stories!” Sergeant tells Dookie, tugging his leash. Resisting, Dookie bites the toe of Billy’s sneaker. “Retreat!” Sergeant exclaims. He chokes Dookie with one final tug, sending him into a barking frenzy.

“Tyler!” dad calls, opening the front door to the house. “What are you doing? Get inside!”

“You better go,” Billy says. I agree but I fail to budge. Billy is my safe place, my sanctuary. Standing beside him my problems with dad, Sergeant, and Dookie, shrink until they’re tiny and insignificant. Sure, Billy presents a whole new set of problems. But at least he’s cute and knows how to kiss.

“Respect your father and go inside,” Sergeant says. And though I long to tell him off, I bite my tongue and refrain. But I do thank him....

Thank him for ruining my moment with Billy....

Thank him for failing to remember what it’s like to be young and in love....

Back in the house, dad ends his call with mom and stares at me in cold silence. I’m supposed to do the talking, the explaining, but I don’t. Right now, I’d love to tell dad how screwed-up I am, how I wish we weren’t always fighting, but I just shrug and head to my room.

Today, love came knocking at my window. To share with dad such a confusing, yet wonderful occasion would be great. Still, I keep this to myself. Who knows? In the future maybe dad and I can share more than silence but not until dad allows love to knock for me at the front door.