“What?”
“What you asked me about.Now you know.How about you?”
I had to think because I was caught off guard.Did he really want to know, or was he just trying to break the tension?
“Timmins High, gold, and ‘Jumping Jive’ by Cab Calloway.”I hoped he didn’t think I was weird for listening to music his grandfather probably listened to.He had this expression on his face that was maybe a millimeter away from a smile, like he wanted to laugh with me, but I wasn’t there to join him.
We got to my apartment building.I didn’t check my mailbox, because I didn’t want to bump into any of my neighbors.Because I didn’t know how I’d introduce him.The elevator was empty.I forgot how small it was.I stood right against the side.He wasn’t a big guy, and he was giving me space, but I felt his presence filling up the elevator like heat.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” he said.“I’m not gonna do anything unless you want me to.”
I felt like English was my tenth language because the most articulate thing I could think to say was, “Oh.”And I felt embarrassed because it must have been obvious how uncomfortable I was.
“I’ll make sure your first time is a good time,” he said.
I knew he was trying to be nice, but what he said scared the hell out of me because I was not ready for that.Then I felt guilty for feeling scared, because he’d done nothing wrong.I avoided eye contact with him for the rest of the ride.
As soon as the elevator doors popped open, I got out of there fast and practically ran up the hallway to my apartment.By the time I’d unlocked the door and gone inside, I felt better because I’d figured out what to do.
He came in and shrugged off his jacket.I took it from him without touching him and hung it on the hook by the door.
“Can I get you anything to drink?Beer?”
“I don’t drink,” he said.
I’d assumed he wasn’t drinking just for that night at Deep Ice, not that he never drank, period.“You want a Coke or something?”
“Water’s fine.”
He stood in the kitchen doorway and watched me pour water from the Brita into my best glass and put two ice cubes in.Then, I sliced a lemon to put on the glass and looked for my red-striped straws, at which point I realized I was what my mom would have called “being dramatic,” so I just handed him the glass.
Then, I got a bottle of beer from the fridge.I figured if it worked for me at Deep Ice, it would work here too.
“Want to watch a movie?”I said.
“Sure.”
I put inAliens.Mainly because it wasn’t romantic.Plus, it wasn’t the kind of movie you listened to in the background while you had a heavy conversation.By the time I got back to the couch, he was sitting at one end, so I sat at the other.And we watched the movie.I’d seen it dozens of times, so my mind kept wandering, and I watched him in my peripheral vision, his physical presence like pressure in the air against me.Every time I felt uncomfortable, I drank more beer.
I had four beers.
I wasn’t used to drinking, so when the beers hit me, they hit hard.Like, I was fine, normal, normal, normal, thenboom, super relaxed, and my filter had packed its bags for Australia.
The movie ended, and I got up, put the DVD in the box, went back to the couch, and sat right beside him this time.Not touching him, but on the cushion beside him.Then I stared at him.He was wearing a sky blue T-shirt with a torn seam, slouching back on the couch, looking more relaxed than I felt, staring back at me.
“I wanna tell you something,” I said.
“What?”
I leaned over and, even though we were alone, whispered in his ear.Because if I heard myself say it, I’d freak out.
What I whispered was, “I want to suck your dick.”Like I said, no filter.
I sat back and blinked at him.
“No,” he said.
“What?”
