Normal
Danny abruptly looked up from his paper and straight at me. "Reuven, look right here, Freud says it's perfectly normal. Whatever you're feeling, whatever we're feeling. Normal," he exclaimed in a hushed manner.
I paused my reading and cast a sideward glance at Danny, feeling a flush come to my cheeks.
"I'm still not so sure Danny. It feels all wrong. In here," I said, pointing to my stomach. I looked down meagerly; these conversations made me uncomfortable.
"But Reuven," Danny asked, gesturing to his heart, "How does it feel in here?" I sighed.
"I don't know, Danny," I conceded, looking up slowly at his blazing blue eyes. He was staring at me intently, trying to read me, swallow me like he did his books.
My heart was pounding and I felt sick, like I was going to throw up. I think Danny saw my tension and backpedaled his proclamations.
"It doesn't matter anyway Reuven," Danny tried slowly. "I was only trying to make you feel better. I'm sorry Reuven," he managed, his eyes gentle and welcoming.
"It's fine Danny. I just-it's fine. Can I go back to reading now?" I asked him whilst slowly opening my book. He gave me a look of resignation and turned around, his back against mine.
This was how we sat sometimes, when we didn't want to be distracted by one anothers' covert stares, or maybe if we wanted to signify the end of a heated discussion.
I slowly turned around, my back against his, and began to read again. I could feel Danny shift as he lifted a hand to stroke his earlock.
"I'm sorry Reuven," he whispered, almost to himself. I let out a long breath. My thoughts were still racing. They raced for long minutes, our silence surrounded us, made my chest feel tight.
I couldn't stop thinking about what Freud had said. Normal? How could feeling that way about another boy be normal? Honestly, I couldn't help the way my stomach turned when I saw the way the sun reflected off Danny's blue eyes. I had tried to push back some desires, some that must be sins, but in the end nothing ever changed.
I couldn't remember anything in the Talmud against it, but it felt really wrong and, supremely right. I thought back to all the laws in the Talmud, searching for the one that said it was a sin, the one that said I couldn't admire Danny's cheekbones, that I couldn't imagine the way it would feel to thread my fingers in between his, that I couldn't pretend to feel the soft press of his lips against mine while we sat in our corner of the library and- I could feel my heart pounding as my thoughts raced.
This is so, so, so, so, wrong. Suddenly, I was aware of the heat of Danny's back against mine and I shivered. God, I muttered, if you didn't want me to have these feelings, why tempt me with this boy? I closed my book and put it down next to me.
"Danny," I whispered. All of a sudden, I really needed to talk. All these things in my head, I needed to let them out. It did feel right in my heart, but where it really felt wrong was my head.
"Danny, it feels right in my heart. But Danny, not in my head. I'm not sure it will ever feel right in my head because it's wrong Danny. It feels really good when we're together, but when you put a name to it, homosexuality, that's when it feels wrong. Can we just let it be, Danny? Can we just stare at each other and pretend that we're just brothers? Can we tease each other and pretend it's not flirting? Can we come to the library and can you just sit and watch me think and not call ourselves homosexuals? Words are dirty, Danny. Just like your father said, 'words distort what a person feels in their heart.' You have enough silence in your life Danny, I know, but can we just be quiet? I'm sorry Danny, we can still talk about Freud and everything, but can we act like it's not us? Please Danny."
When Danny didn't answer for a while, I panicked.
Great job Reuven, now you got him angry, I scolded. Quietly, and and tentatively I whispered, 'Danny?' There was no response so slowly I turned around only to find Danny asleep against my back.
I slowly turned back, more careful this time not to jostle him and rouse him from his sleep. Danny warm against my back and completely docile.
I could imagine what his face looked like. His blue eyes closed, his face relaxed with Freud in his hands. His skullcap slightly askew and his earlocks hanging forward along his pale, chiseled, cheeks, framing his angelic face perfectly.
At that moment, I didn't really care if I was "inverted" or whatever, it just felt good to have Danny slumped against me, dreaming Danny dreams, quiet in the back of the library. Our own world where anything went and we were safe. Danny made me feel safe, and completely normal.