Page 24 of Ryan and Avery


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It’s not thatAvery doesn’t think about sex. He does. But the truth is that when he thinks about sex, it’s often to think about why he isn’t thinking more about sex, or thinking the same things about sex that he’s been led to believe everyone else in the world is thinking. Every seven seconds. Every. Seven. Seconds. Is he the only person in the world who questions that statistic, who thinks he wouldn’t actually be able to function if he thought about sex that often? He knows he could type a few words into his phone’s browser and witness pretty much any sex act there is to see. When he first started understanding who he was, it helped reaffirm his inclinations, to see which sections of the menu he was choosing from. But after a while, it wasn’t exciting—hestarted to feel his reaction was as formulaic as the scenes he was watching. He felt porn was turning him into a robot, that something that should have felt intrinsically human was starting to feel detached from any human interaction. So he stopped.

He and his first boyfriend, Lyle, had messed around, and that had been great. There were times he completely losthimself while they were making out, and it was so different to lose yourself to another person instead of to a picture on your phone. He loved the mutual lostness, the mutual foundness of being with someone else, how you can be a blur one moment and then the other person does something and draws you into this vividly tactile sense of where you are, what you’re doing, how your bodies feel. It’s like that when he kisses Ryan, and when they make their bodies close. To Avery, that’s the best part, to share such intimate proximity. To say that sex is the only thing that matters disregards the words of the sentence and focuses only on the exclamation mark at its end.

All of this has remained unsaid with Ryan. Avery assumes this is because they’re in agreement. He doesn’t feel the pull toward sex from Ryan, not like it was with Lyle, who would get jumpy about it, whiny even. Ryan seems to enjoy the pleasure of the moment, instead of spending most of his energy planning the next step of the pleasure. Avery really likes this about him. But now he’s starting to wonder whether this is just his own wishful interpretation. What if their unsaid feelings don’t actually match up? What if Ryan isn’t bringing up sex because he has no desire to have sex with Avery?

No. Avery knows at heart this isn’t it. And he also knows he’s falling into the exclamation-mark traps of believing sex is the goal, the home run, the only way to get onto the scoreboard. It takes so much more work to avoid these traps than it does to give in to them. Where are the points given forthat?

It even feels weird to sayI’m not ready. Because that still sets sex up as the ultimate destination, the ultimate proof, the thing toward which all preparation leads.

Avery doesn’t believe in that.

But he also realizes he doesn’t know for sure if Ryan feels the same way.


That same Thursday,Alicia finds Ryan at his locker after school.

“You know you love me, right?” she starts.

Ryan doesn’t stop putting his books away. He knows this is her version ofDon’t get offended, but. She doesn’t really mean it as a disclaimer anymore; it’s more like a signal, so he can at least have a moment to get ready for whatever’s coming next.

“I do,” he says. Because that’s always his line.

“Good. Because, Ryan…only someone you love would be able to tell you that your hair needs a serious touch-up.”

Ryan feels his body relax. This is not a serious problem. He’s been aware of how his hair’s been growing out, pushing the blue to the borders.

“Call your aunt,” Alicia continues. “Now that you’re allowed to go over there again. Otherwise, I might have to take matters into my own hands.”

Ryan closes his locker and pretends to shudder away from her.

“My hair! My precious hair!” he calls out. Which is all heneeds to do to evoke the disastrous haircut Alicia gave him nearly two years ago. (“Was she drunk when she did this to you?” Aunt Caitlin had asked when she’d seen it. And Ryan had confessed that, no, Alicia’s imprecisions could not be blamed on any intoxication other than that which comes from the power of wielding a scissors.)

Alicia laughs. Two football players passing in the hall give them a strange look, which only makes Ryan and Alicia side-eye each other and crack up further.

Ryan texts his aunt to make an “appointment” the next afternoon, then shows Alicia the phone to assure her he’s done it.

“Good,” Alicia says. “We want you looking suave for your big date on Saturday.”

Ryan has no idea where Alicia has plucked this particular word from.Suave. He teases her about it, but then it comes back to him later on that night, when he’s getting ready for bed. He pauses while he’s putting on his pajamas, so when he looks in the mirror, he notes his messy, unevenly colored hair; the three o’clock shadow on his chin; his chest with maybe a dozen hairs on it; his not-quite-abs-not-quite-belly; his pajama bottoms hanging on his hips. He doesn’t feel suave at all. He doesn’t feel ugly, either. He just feels like maybe he’s not attractive enough. For what, he’s not sure.

He isn’t thinking of Avery, not when he’s looking in the mirror. This is good; it means he isn’t worried about how Avery sees him. Avery isn’t the one he’s trying to impress.

Ryan pulls away from the mirror, throws on an oldT-shirt, and takes his phone with him into bed. He and Avery text for a while, choosing a town roughly halfway between them for their Saturday-night date. It takes a ridiculously long time to pick a restaurant, considering there are only about six options. When they’re done, Avery texts Ryan,Are you in your pajamas?

Yeah,Ryan texts back.U?

Yup. I bet you look cute in yours.

Thanks.Ryan smiles, thinking about sleeping over at Avery’s house, seeing him ready for bed.You too.

The three dots of an incoming response hang around for a bit. Then Avery’s next text appears:Can I see?

Ryan hasn’t turned out the lights yet, so he types back,Sure.He takes a picture of himself in the old T-shirt and the flannel bottoms. He keeps his messed-up hair in the frame.

Looks comfy,Avery replies.

Ryan reaches over and turns out the light.

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