but also he makes out with someone he likes. I have to say it looks like Debbie has enjoyed herself. And Meg and I—well, we’ve done whatever it is we’ve done. But I feel like a real shit, like I’m just using Meg. And not in a way that’s fair.
I’m not being very fair to myself either. I got through this evening by pretending. First by pretending Meg was Elijah. Then pretending Meg was Rebecca. Then pretending the whole thing was a fictional scene I was writing. To be fair to me, what I should have been pretending was that I was with Raj.
Yeah. Right. Like that’s fair? If I’m going to be fair to myself, it would have to be Raj.
Once around the field is enough to bring everyone back to earth. I’m the only one who seems to have landed with a thud, but there’s not much I can do about that. Robert drives to Meg’s house first, not because it’s closer, but I think because he wants Debbie beside him as long as possible.
I walk Meg to her door. The overhead light is on, and it’s bright, and there’s a light on inside too. I imagine we’re being monitored, even if it’s only because they know we’re here.
What I want to say is this: “I’m so sorry, Meg. I like you so much. You are a really terrific girl, and you deserve the best boyfriend in the world. And I wish it could be me, but it can’t. Please don’t hate me.”
But this is what I say. “You’re terrific, Meg.” I kiss her forehead. She smiles, real sweet, and squeezes my hand. I watch as she turns and opens the door, and as she’s about to close it she turns her smile on me again.
The message from her is pretty clear, isn’t it?
Idiot, I tell myself later as I lie sleepless in bed. What did I expect would happen? In a car? Two teenaged couples? And what would I have done with Raj anyway, even if he’d been there? What do I know about making out with another boy? Plus, I don’t even know if he feels the same way. I don’t know whether he dreams about me.
I torture myself all Sunday, wondering how I’m going to behave toward Meg this week in school, how she’ll behave toward me. Robert and Debbie I have no doubts about. At one point I realize I’m wearing the same jeans I’d had on when Robert and I had been cruising at the mall. I reach into my back pocket and pull out a piece of paper. No name, just a telephone number. Doreen had said I was cute. If I called this number, what would I say? What would I do? But I don’t fret too much over Doreen; she’s probably not really my type anyway.
But Meg could be. I know I like her. But how much? In what way? I enjoyed kissing her, but I didn’t do much else, and I don’t really think she wanted me to. Not on the first date. But will she expect a second? There’s not much doubt in my mind about that, either. And then, what else? I can barely focus on the book I’m reading as I lie on my bed and try to pretend I’m not obsessing about this situation.
Finally I can’t take inactivity any longer. I put on some track duds, add some warm-up pants and a sweatshirt, and call to my aunt as I’m heading for the door.
“Going for some practice runs, Aunt Aud. What time is dinner?”
“The usual. Around six.”
Uncle Steve calls from his easy chair, long legs extending from under the newspaper that hides his face: “Finished your homework?”
“All but a few math problems I’ll do after dinner. See you later.”
I’ve done about five laps around the school track almost before I know it, my mind’s so busy. But suddenly I have no more energy. Interesting: I’m right at the high-jump pit. I walk around it a few times, cooling down, and then go and sit off to the side of where the jumpers land. Right in front of me is where Raj’s body had settled so gracefully.
After maybe fifteen minutes there are scores of shredded grass blades on the ground bordered by my crossed legs, where I’ve been dropping them after tearing them up. I’m looking sightlessly before me, creating my own images, when I see another boy. He’s under the trees on the other side of the chain link fence that surrounds the track field. He looks like Raj.
“Yeah, right,” I say to myself, believing it to be a mirage like last time, like the dash where I barely beat Jimmy Walsh. But then I refocus my eyes.
It is him. It’s Raj. He’s really standing there, and he’s looking right at me. There’s this timeless moment, and then I stand. And then I’m moving.
As I get closer, I can see his hands are on the fence, fingers curling over the wires. We’re so close now. I have to look up a little to see his eyes; he’s taller than me. And then I reach my hands up, on my side of the fence, and I curl my fingers over his.
He doesn’t move.
We don’t speak. There’s no need. What would we say?
Slowly he pulls his hands away, his eyes still on mine, and he backs off a little. And I find my voice.
“Raj!”
He stops.
“Wait,” I tell him. “Just stay there.”
I run as fast as I can to where I’ve dropped my outer clothes and then back. He’s still there! I throw my things over the top of the fence. As I’m struggling up the chain links, I see him bend over to pick up my clothes.
I don’t think I’ve ever climbed as fast as that. Raj holds out my pants to me, and I lean against him as I struggle to work my track shoes through the cloth. One leg through, I start on the next, and then I slow down, feeling the warmth of his body, knowing he’s feeling warmth from me as well. Never climbed so fast; never dressed so slowly.
Eventually I have to admit I’ve finished this task, and he hands me the sweatshirt. Putting it on, though, my vision is blocked and I can’t see him, so I want to hurry again. In my haste I get the hem all caught, but this has an advantage; Raj laughs and then reaches around behind me, his face mere inches from mine, to pull the resisting cloth into place.
I don’t dare do it. But I do it anyway. My arms are around him before I can stop them, and we stand there in an embrace so sweet I could die and be happy about it.
We walk for a few minutes, aimlessly, not speaking. We’re pretty hidden from the road, and from the track, among the trees. By some silent arrangement we sit down and lean against the trunks of two trees that are so close their bodies have grown together. My thigh and Raj’s touch.
He speaks first. “How long have you known?”
I panic. Known what? Known how I feel about him? Or about myself? I parry. “I’m not sure what I know.”
“No?” He sounds almost amused. “I’ve known for a long time.”
So he means about being gay. He thinks I’m gay. I guess I know I am, really. I inhale deeply and let the breath out, calming myself. If being gay means being with Raj, well, that’s something I can take. But it’s not necessarily something I want to talk about.
I ask, “Why haven’t I seen you before?”
“I keep a low profile.”
“Why?”
I feel him shrug. “It’s hard to make friends. And I’m not into a lot of things the other guys seem to like.”
“You mean girls?”
He laughs, and I love the sound. “I was referring to things like video games, contact sports, drinking beer, talking trash.”
I could listen to him talk all day. His voice sings, and he makes consonants sound like something he’s trying to taste with just the tip of his tongue.
And then he speaks again. “Have you ever been with a girl?”
My chuckle comes out more like a snort. “I’ve never been with anyone.”
“Who is Robert?”
Robert? So he really had thought that Robert and I were together.