And I Will Bring It Back To You
It was the first big party of the year, which meant a lot more and a lot less than it had back in high school, all at the same time. Not even the fact Dingle was there put a damper on things. You know how he's always getting in the way and acting like an idiot. Only, okay, he actually didn't do that this time. He acted fairly normal, just...enthusiastic. He obviously still wasn't used to any new-found popularity he'd been gaining.
It was weird how popular he had gotten. Really. I mean, there are some kids you look at and expect never to break that glass ceiling of dorkiness, and the sometimes sole member of the Gothic Fantasy Guild had a glass ceiling above his head thicker than most. The kid didn't know how to do anything normal, from what I'd seen. Couldn't play basketball, couldn't hold a regular conversation, and chose the most fucked up girlfriend when he finally got one. Really. She was a real head case.
Not that Dingle wasn't a head case, but he was a head case in a oh god, just roll your eyes at him and hope he runs off to play with his goth friends way. She actually took away my voice for a couple days. Everyone said she just got me scared and I just believed it, but it was actually true. It would have been weird that a girl that hot had defended him, except for the little fact she was completely nuts, and, I'll admit it too, completely scary.
The less I knew about Dingle dork, the happier I was. As long as he stayed in the periphery, and not in the forefront, he could stay that dorky, roll-your-eyes-at-him, misfit sort of loner type. We were both Pleasantville natives, so I'd seen him every year, here and there. That was all fine, until he started hanging out with Dawkins.
Seriously, how could Dawkins just betray the perfect system like that? Well, I guess Dawkins is kind of stupid. He's a nice guy, though. But stupid. Total dumbass. Probably never deserved starting quarterback in high school. Anyway, he actually befriended Dingle. Or Dingle latched onto him like a parasite and he was too dumb to notice. You choose.
That's when things started getting tougher. It was easy to ignore the Eckerts beating up on some kid I barely knew, but it took a little work to ignore it when he turned into my team mate's best friend. Yeah, best friend. God, there's something wrong with Dawkins. Everyone thinks he might be a little crazy too.
It took me years to admit to myself why my favorite game was ignoring and, sometimes, aggravating, one Merton Dingle. It wasn't the name. It wasn't the dull and dreary garb. It wasn't his other eccentricies. You see, it wasn't just one thing. It was all of it. It was the fact he was unafraid of who he was in a way that elementary school students, junior highers, high schoolers, even college freshmen, should never be. It's the way of the world. All the pegs go into place, you get upset sometimes when you're alone, but, outside, you never question it.
I'm a pretty angry kid. I'll just throw that one out there right now. And what really gets me is not knowing what to do, how to act, what to say. I love cultural norms, most of them, anyway. I think they're there for a reason, and I try to do my part to keep up, even if that means I might be betraying my inner self for just a moment.
Dingle wouldn't know how to betray his inner self if he read it in an Ann Rice novel. Maybe it comes from so much time alone he never knew the norms, or maybe he just had only himself to please and that became his first priority. I've never been without friends. That's why I tried not to think about Dingle that often. He ruined the picture I liked to keep in my head, the one that said everyone always had friends.
It was quite convenient, all of it, because I could blame his lack of respect for the way society worked as the reason why he was so lonely. And then he got a friend. He got a best friend. And then two. Ha, and the second one was a girl too. Actually, I think she kind of had a thing for him. She came to his defense a lot. She was spunky, and pretty cute. But she wasn't around long. Heard she's at Havermill. That's what Jenny said. Jenny went to Havermill too.
A Merton Dingle with friends is a threat to my world order. And it's a blip on the radar I'd tried to keep him off of. It meant I had to start watching him. Start hanging out with him by proxy.
The sad thing, the pathetic thing, is that while I hated his disregard for popularity and doing things the right way, I admired it too. I didn't really even want it for myself, but it made me want to watch him have it. He dated more girls than most guys dated last year. Of course, they were all freaks. I didn't date anyone.
You see, I couldn't. I was too caught up in what Tommy would reveal about Dingle next, what Dingle would do. You could call it an obsession. I might hit you, but you could call it that, yeah. It was the truth, anyway. People get obsessed over weird things all the time. Not a lot was weirder than Dingle, right?
The worst part of it all was that, despite being such a complete misfit, he was handsome. It was a quirky kind of handsome, but it definitely caught my eye.
Alright, so there was another reason I didn't date any girls senior year. I'd recently had to accept the fact I wasn't really, you know, looking for one anymore. A girl, I mean. Not that anyone was supposed to know yet, except my Aunt Amanda who had somehow figured it out. But not anyone at the high school or even the university.
At one time, back in elementary school in about the fourth or fifth grade, I had spent a little time with him, just hanging out on the playground, not saying much. It was short lived, though, because Jenny leaked it to Mitchell and I never wanted to cross Mitchell. Mitchell was never serious. Always making jokes, always poking fun, and it was best not to give him any ammunition. He's still like that. I think he's failing a couple of his classes already. I bet you his tutor gives up on him.
No, it's okay. We need him for the team.
Anyway, so it was a fairly big deal, this party, and probably meant the most to, of course, Dingle. I'm not sure whether he was invited or not. I'd believe either way nowadays. Tommy would have insisted he come, most likely, if he hadn't been. Anyone could bring a friend. They're even closer than in high school now that they share a dorm. Not that that means anything, you know, sexual. Tommy's an oaf and Merton's...weird.
It had been in this hotel, everywhere from the lobby to certain rooms on the first floor the party throwers had paid for. No one really stayed in the place except students anyway, and we students have an understanding of each other, don't we?
Red cups, beer, stronger alcohol, easily-influenced freshman like me and Dingle and Dawkins. People in various states of undress, loud music, free condoms, and everything a college kid could dream up.
In this hotel
Television's on
Sound is down
And everybody's gone
Only...there was only two college kids in the room I woke up in, and only one was still dreaming.
Merton J. Dingle was naked. He was on his stomach with his head turned to the side I wasn't on, but I could tell it was him. His spikes were messed up, sweaty, ruined. I wanted to run my hand through that hair again. I just wasn't sure how he would react.
This wasn't good, was it?
Just you and me
And I wish I could be
Far away
In another scene
If only...
I remembered back to the night before. We'd both drank, but neither of us had gotten drunk. I think he only had one, and I just had a couple. It was obviously his first time drinking, and Tommy, who hadn't drank anything but still managed to look totally cool, had made him swear he could get a ride home before he left him.
That's when he'd spotted me watching the exchange and waved in an almost feminine sort of way. I felt my feet stepping closer to Dingle until I stopped in front of him. Don't ask me why. Both of our inhibitions were affected by alcohol.
"Nice party, huh?" he said in a giggly sort of way.
"Like you'd know, Dingle," I said back. The words didn't have a lot of bite.
"I've been to," he hiccupped, looking surprised as he did, then seemed to get over it. "...hundreds of parties," he finished.
"Yeah," I said, "hundreds," laughing a little. Then a little more. His evasion is a lot more comical when you've had a little to drink. He seems more charming, even though he's probably not the one who's changed.
He grinned a little shyly. "Anyway. Did you come with a date, Chuck?" He took another sip. It looked like he felt on top of the world. Confident, free.
"Wouldn't you like to know. Who'd you bring, Dawkins?"
He just shrugged, and for a second I thought maybe he had, which kind of clouded my mind with this latent sort of anger. "As friends," he said with another shrug.
"Yeah. A lot of people brought one, though," I said, looking around. He looked around too. People were making out all over the walls, the floors, the couches, doing more than that. I swallowed and looked away. "Free condoms and stuff, you know."
He started giggling, and then he didn't stop for a good while, shaking.
I rolled my eyes. I was about ready to walk back home. Dancing and drinking and music seemed to be over for the most part, and I wasn't about to be cornered by some random girl in a halter top and tight jeans. I'd had enough of that. It just wasn't what I was looking for. It was okay, but it wasn't what I wanted.
He looked up at me, tears in the corner of his eyes from too much laughter, and placed a hand on my shoulder, to my surprise. "Free condoms," he said, starting to giggle again. I thought about taking his red plastic cup from him, but it was almost empty anyway.
Starry-eyed kid
Look at what you did
You drank too much
And you never could resist
"Condoms," he said with another small chuckle. "That's a good one, Chuck."
"...Thanks," I said awkwardly, staring down into his eyes. They were out of it and really intense all at once, like they were trying to devour me whole. I couldn't tell what color they were for sure in the dim lighting, but I knew they were really pretty.
I know that sounds really gay. But that was what I was thinking. And, hell, that's what I am. You know?
His hand slid down a little to my chest, feeling the muscle through my shirt. I swallowed. "Do you even know what you're doing, Dingle?" I snorted.
"No. But maybe you can show me," he said, eyes still somewhere between hyperaware and zoned out, and also looking much too innocent. He came closer, and I sort of froze up, unable, just then, to start leaning in too.
Then he slipped. His expression made me laugh a little as he fell, grabbing at me as he headed for the ground. I slowed him down, but he still made contact, making this little yelping sort of a sound. I have to admit, I liked the sound. I know it's a weird thought to have.
"Nice one, Dingle. Always the nerd."
He gave me this embarrassed sort of smile, sitting up properly.
"Alright?"
He paused to see if he was, looking around the floor, and then laughed again. He picked up a dirty, used condom, holding it up for me to see, and it tore a burst of laughter from me too.
Give a weak smile
Lying on the tile
He left his spilled cup on the ground, getting up carefully with my help. I just remember thinking about him and free lube and condoms and that weak smile and that little yelp, and, even though he didn't need my help to stand anymore, my hand didn't leave his waist.
He'd flushed a little in all the lead-up, including the fall, and he lifted a hand to my cheek. Then I was kissing him, stealing his breath, making him melt, and it made me groan against his lips. I was getting majorly hard.
He panted for breath when I finally released his lips, gripping at me, and I gave a head jerk in the direction of the condom bowl and we neared it together. I grabbed a couple, shoving them in the pocket of my jeans, then took one of the big bottles of lube.
We went into one of the rooms, and we shared our first time, though I'm like a hundred percent sure he thought I was more experienced than that. Maybe that's the reason he even decided to try it with me in the first place. He can be a pretty practical guy, when he's not completely lost in some weird fantasy.
But what we were doing wasn't a fantasy. It kind of felt like a dream, but we both knew it was real.
I especially knew it was real as I lay there next to him, awake, staring at his naked back. I still hadn't seen his face, but he looked so peaceful. I chewed on my tongue a little, wondering if I should get out of there or stay and see how he'd react.
And I count up all the times I've I'm losing the sparkle in my
Died
Eye
All of a sudden, he sat up, and it was so sudden it scared the hell out of me. My eyes were wide, and he looked around, his own gaze locking right onto mine. His eyes widened then too.
I opened my mouth to speak, slowly.
I just wanna say Stay with me
I will bring it back to you
Bring me everything
Get me on track
I will bring it back to you
He spoke first, though. "Are you going to kill me?" he asked in this sleep-roughened tone, and all I really wanted to do, really, is run my hand along his body, hold him close. He looked like some sort of a weird porcelain doll. He's that pale. I was surprised that I liked it.
He looked a little more nervous, so I swallowed and settled for shaking my head. I wasn't sure what else I should have said.
I think I made a face when some Marilyn Manson song sounded from somewhere on the floor, and he jumped up, still completely naked—well, completely except for one black sock—and crouched over to get into the pocket of his black pants. He flipped his cell phone open and put it next to his ear, coming back to the bed, lying down on his back again, sitting up against the pillows, and I quickly pretended I hadn't been totally entranced by the sight of his naked body. And wasn't still.
I'm not sure I pretended it very well, but I think he was preoccupied anyway. He yawned. "Mm. Hi, Tommy. Yeah, I'm fine. No, no, don't worry. I slept it off, and I'll get a ride back. Or I'll walk." He yawned again. "Tommy, look, I'll see you later. I know we always get breakfast, I'm just tired out...Look, wolf boy," this particular nickname made me raise an eyebrow, but I don't think he noticed, "maybe I had a lot of 'fun' last night and have someone else I wanna have breakfast with. Yeah, she's nice," he said quickly, rolling his eyes at me, letting me in on the joke.
I wasn't really laughing, though. Because none of it meant anything. Come on, I knew it wouldn't have! God, that'd be stupid! It couldn't have! It was just one night. Aided by beer and curiosity and free condoms.
Like I said before, though, I'd always sort of had this thing for him. At least I couldn't regret never going for it now, right? Eh, probably wrong. Probably dead wrong.
"Love you too, Tommy," he said with a smile. "Okay, see you later." He closed his phone. He turned to me, smiling a little. "You know how Tommy is. He worries about people too much."
I nodded a little numbly.
Coming up fast
Faster than I can
It is work
In need of a plan
If I move slow
The moon'll let me go
I know, yeah, I know
"I don't know why I haven't come out to him," he says a little nervously. "I mean, I kind of think he's into guys too—do you get that impression? It's just, I wouldn't want him to reject me. He was my first real friend," he admitted, getting up. He started getting dressed, tossing my clothes onto the bed next to me.
My stomach grumbled, and I ignored it, getting dressed too. Hyacinthe Thistlethorp might as well have cast another spell on me, because I couldn't seem to make myself say anything at first. Then, as I was checking my own phone for messages, I finally said, "Do you need a ride?" I didn't look at him, though. I keep my eyes on the large bottle of lube that must have rolled off of the bed at some point.
"Yeah," he said, seeming to relax a little. "Yeah, sure. Thanks, Chuck. Tommy took the Hearse, so."
I nodded. We checked out and I led the way to my car. It kind of stung that not only was I some girl he met at the party, he was also supposedly having breakfast with me when he never really would. It more than kind of stung.
Try Stay with me
Try as I might I cannot
Find
Someone to say
I will bring it back to you
Bring me everything
Get me on track
I will bring it back to you
When he left the car and went into the dorm complex, I closed my eyes and leaned back against the seat. I don't want you to think I cry all the time or anything. It's just, everything was going too fast. Like, I had him, or, well, I thought I did, after so long, and then I was brought back to reality. Or I lost him. Or, who the hell knows. It's just, there was (nervous) elation, and then there was this raw depression.
No one was around, so it was okay as I let a tear fall, sitting up so I could kind of hunch over the wheel. Less likely for anyone to see that way too.
Well, if it was over for him, I'd have to let go. That was what I was doing then, I guess. Just letting go.
I'm done the run-through
I will bring it back
To you
"Chuck?"
Dingle made me jump that time, knocking into the horn, blasting it for a brief moment before I sat up straight again, shaking from adrenaline and sadness and, great, now embarrassment too.
"I just, I..."
"What?" I gritted out.
He pointed to his cell phone, down on the ground in front of the passenger side.
I lost it. I choked on an angry sob as I unbuckled, leaning over, picking the damn thing up, getting out, shoving it in his hand.
He put it back in his pocket carefully. "Are you okay, Chuck?" he asked softly, and, god, didn't that just make it worse.
"Just get away from me," I said.
"I'm sorry," he babbled as I got back in, coming around the front of the car. "I shouldn't have gone to the party, or, I don't know, I should have left with Tommy. I don't know why I even decided to talk to you, I just...I'll stay away from you. I swear, I won't tell anyone what ended up happening." He looked down, and I think that was when I realized I wasn't the only one whose feelings had gotten a little hurt.
I
Feel like I'm running out of time
Won't someone say
"Dingle...you don't have to be sorry. I wanted it," I said.
"Yeah, last night, in the heat of the moment. Look, I understand," he said with a soft, shy smile.
I got out of the car again, slamming the door. "No you don't. You don't get it!"
"Don't get what?" He looked a little surprised at my behavior. I ran a hand through my hair.
"Don't get that...I wanted that before last night too."
The only sound was the chirping of birds in a nearby plot of trees. We looked at each other, and I think I was probably still shaking, at least a little.
Stay with me
I will bring it back to you
Bring me everything
Get me on track
I will bring it back to you
"Oh Chuck," he said softly, and he cupped my cheek again, and I let my eyes close as he leaned up and kissed me. It was soft and brief and when he pulled back, he took my hand. "Look at me."
I opened my eyes against my better judgment.
"I wanted it too. I thought you'd be mad at me, that's why I didn't offer to talk about what happened. I mean, you're upset, but not because we did it."
I shook my head.
"I don't know if it was your first time," he continued in that soft tone, "but it was mine. I thought it was really special. Maybe we can go out sometime. I don't know."
"I'd," I had to swallow because my throat was so tight. "I'd really like that, Dingle. Merton."
Merton glanced up at his dorm window, which he'd left open. I looked up at it too. Dawkins looked a little shell-shocked but waved at me. I waved back.
"Tommy waited for me anyway. Do you want to catch brunch with us?"
"Yeah," I said. I think I was blushing. "I'd like that."
"I love college parties," Merton said with a grin, motioning for me to follow him up to get his best friend.
An American girl
Looking at the world
The way that I do
You're just like me
Stay with me
I will bring it back to you