“I’m sorry, baby.”
“Me too.”
“I didn’t expect you to do that… I was just-”
“It’s okay, Dave.”
“I worry about you.”
“I know.”
“How do you feel?”
“Okay.”
“Are you coming to practice today?”
“Yes.”
“I will pick you up.”
“Okay.”
Classes started in a week. We would have two weeks to practice the play in the theater, and then we went up. I was nervous. I knew most of my lines, but I wasn’t totally confident. I was also afraid of my legs failing me when I was onstage.
Life was boring. The same things kept happening, except in a different order. I would wake up late, rush over with Dave to D.C.’s house to practice, go back with Dave to his house where we’d eat frozen foods and make out until we had to go to Oscar’s to practice, and then we’d go back to my house, hang out with Heidi, and then go up to my room and make out some more. It was very unfulfilling. I wanted to be my old self. I had good friends then, and we had wholesome fun. We confided in each other and crap. On good nights, Dave and I would go to parties, get mildly intoxicated, and then find somewhere to make out and take all of our clothes off. Then, one of us would have to pee or puke or remember who we were or what we were doing, and we’d stop. I would watch Jeremiah sporadically. D.C. and I stopped hating each other, and I worked with her at Leather and Lace a few more times to get some money.
Classes started. At first it was a nice change, but then it just became a part of the routine. Class, rehearsal, Oscar’s, party, near-sex… and over and over again.
Things got slightly more exciting when the time for the play rolled around. I’d been going to the physical therapist, and because I had been eating right, thanks to the dietician, and I was feeling a lot better physically.
Tay, Ike, and Zac were supposed to be coming home soon. I was really hoping they’d be there to see me in the play. Every day when I came home from whatever activity I’d been doing, I looked out my window to see if they were there. Car in the driveway? Lights on? Noise? Movement? Anything? The answer was always no. I think it made Dave sad that I was always looking forward to seeing other boys.
“I need some more weed,” Dave sighed, ashing his post-marijuana stog.
“I’ll go wit you to get some,” D.C. offered, sipping the beer-in-a-brown-bag she’d brought with her into the woods.
“Okay. You coming, kid?” Dave asked.
I was pre-occupied with doing the checklist in my head, staring at the Hansons’ house. When we they coming home? They were due back soon. Anytime now…
“Hello?” D.C. waved her hand in front of my face.
“Hm?”
“Do you want to come with us to buy weed?” Dave asked.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” I glanced at D.C.
“Sure,” D.C. got the point and walked away, toward my house.
“I don’t want you to smoke weed,” I said, still looking in the direction of the Hansons’ home.
“Huh?”
“Just don’t.”
“What brought this on?” he laughed.
“Have you seen me lately?” I was near-yelling, tears frozen in the corners of my eyes. He raised his eyebrow, not having a clue as to what I was talking about. “Me, Dave, me. Since when do I drink? Since when do I fu*king curse? Dude, I strip now!! How am I me? For God’s sake, look at my hair!” I broke down into tears, muttering, “That’s what he loved the most.” I recalled the scent of the early-summer rain and the feeling as Taylor twirled sections of hair around my fingers. Something had gone terribly wrong.
“Tay, you’re just in a bad spot, that’s all.”
“It’s more than that!” I yelled, “They think I’m fu*king bulimic! I have to go to a shrink, Dave! I fu*king tried to kill myself!” I shoved my scarred wrist, which was covered with bracelets, in his face.
He was silent.
“I just want to be that way I was! I never used to drink, Dave, you remember?”
“Yes.”
“I was good. I was pure.”
“I know.”
“Besides, D.C. loves you anyway.”
“I guess.”
“I can’t keep doing this, Dave. I don’t want to have sex with you. And we’re going to if we don’t stop.”
“I know,” he shrugged, puffing sadly on his cigarette.
“You know I love Taylor.”
“I know.”
“I know you love D.C.”
“I don’t.”
“Well, she loves you then.”
“I know.”
“I told you so,” I laughed through my tears, sniffling and wiping them away.
He smiled and hugged me, “I do love you, though, Tay. That won’t change, even if we can’t make out anymore.”
I laughed again, “Well, maybe we can sometimes.”
