“This isn’t the time for making out!” Wait. Why wasn’t it the time for that? Oh, driving. But also, making out. “Now I’m conflicted,” I admitted. I relaxed onto his lap.
I wanted to learn to drive. Luke wanted to make out. Compromises had to be made. In the name of relationships and space exploration and discovery and progress and puppies. Uh, what? Oh well, it didn’t matter as our lips brushed together.
The definition of success changed again. Maybe this should always be what counted as a win: Luke’s lips meeting mine.
* * *
The abandoned lot was nice at night. When you couldn’t see it clearly and also were looking up, then the view was great. The air still smelled faintly of gasoline and old tires, but this close to Luke I could also smell the new aftershave he was wearing, a fresh, cedar smell.
The stars were up there above us, filling the night sky like they were meant for private viewing by us and us alone, as if we were in our own private planetarium. We were laying out on the hood of Luke’s car, and he had his arm stretched out behind me, so it was my pillow. A solid, unyielding pillow that would never sell in stores because it was odd and misshapen. No one would buy it except me, who would purchase every last one.
We shared a few quiet moments just gazing up at the sky. Together. It was so good to be together after we’d been apart for the summer. I passed the time by basking in the familiarity and newness of Luke’s scent, enjoying his warmth next to me, and internally congratulating myself on managing to be quiet.
“Why did you want to learn how to drive?” Luke asked eventually. I totally won the quiet game.
“I’m a person. I have rights,” I said inanely. “You can’t fence me in. No one puts Ryan in a corner.” The energizer bunny of words, that’s me, except I didn’t want to be a tiny pink bunny who always played a drum for some reason, a one-man bunny band.
“Are any of those the actual reason?” Luke wondered.
“Don’t even remember what I said anymore.” Remembering what I said was sonotmy responsibility. He’s the one who should be hanging on every nonsensical word. “About the driving,” I said slowly, thinking about it, because this next part wasn’t nonsensical. “I just wanna do stuff I haven’t done before. Have new experiences.”
“Why now? College is in a year.”
“Yeah, but there’s still lots of living to do before then. I was going to make a list of rites of passage for a high school senior but then I maybe got carried away.” And I just started listing a bunch of stuff I wanted to try instead.
When I looked back on these years in college, I wanted at least as many good times as bad. That was possible now. I used to be The Gay Kid, the one people avoided because of my label and not my charming personality quirks. Now, I wasn’t the only gay or Gay—maybe GAY because being loud is better than not being loud and also impossible for me to control—and I had friends and a boyfriend.
This was a fairly small town. In terms of, like, mentality. It wasn’t just about location or number of people. People thought small. Everyone was supposed to be the same. Anything different was bad. There were times when I felt alone but that wasn’t the case now.
This wasn’t just a new school year. I wasn’t going from junior to senior. No, I was. I’m a senor now. I’m smart, I certainly didn’t get held back. But it was more than that. Me at the start of this year compared to me at the start of last year was like a new person on a different planet. Everything was different. I was different.
“I just wanna get the most out of senior year,” I told Luke and the stars. “I don’t know a way to verbalize it without sounding so cheesy I have to wash my mouth out with soap. That’s the natural cure for cheese, you know?”
“No one knows that because it’s not true.” He was smiling. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it.
“We can debate that later. For now, I just wanna make memories, really enjoy this year.” With authority, I declared, “This is Ryan’s Year of Living Dangerously.” I was Ryan, so I certainly got to have authority over my own life. Maybe.
“Let’s not call it that,” Luke interjected. No way, he wasn’t the boss of me. I was the boss of him! At least I aspired to be. “Please don’t die.” Well, okay, aww. Nice sentiment.
“No promises,” I replied cheekily, and also just to be safe, that was too big a promise to make. “I have a list of things I want to do that I haven’t before, but you could help me complete it.”
“I’m sure I’ll be around for some of it.” His tone turned into a sly jerk as he said, “If only to ensure you don’t hurt yourself or anyone else.”
“You take the fun out of everything.” I hardcore pouted.
He couldn’t see me pouting, I realized, so I elbowed him. He grunted and brought his hand down to my hip and squeezed it in warning or apology. I totally chose to take it as the second one.
“What are your goals for this year?” I asked. If he didn’t have any, I could make some up for him. No, that wasn’t why I asked. When it came to him, there was this weird thing I did called caring.
There was silence for a moment. This was probably the first time Luke thought about his specific plans for the year. I was the overachiever and good student; he was the one counting on a sports scholarship. Not that he was dumb, really, but academics weren’t his strongest suit…
I really wanted to see Luke in a suit now.
“Uh,” Luke said after a moment. “Is it totally predictable and boring to say my plans for this year include graduating and getting into college?”
“Your sweet, simple mind is one of the things I love about you,” I told him sincerely.
“Thank you. Or whatever, asshole,” he replied in a confused voice. “I’m not sure which one applies.”
