"Do you think preteens try to get into the place like kids are always trying to get into real bars?" I asked Claire Olivia, as we were passing by a place called Hot Spot Teen Dancing. Very cringe. It was the last night that we spent in Colorado, and I was stuffed in Claire Olivia's car while Rafe rode shotgun.
"Sure," Rafe said. "They probably get fake IDs that say they're thirteen."
"Totally." Claire Olivia answered. "It's a huge industry, the fake teen ID business. They should make Hot Spot Teen Dancing open to preteens."
"Two to twelve." Rafe replied. By this point, we were almost arriving at the coffee shop Rafe wanted to bring us to.
"Fetus to twelve." Claire Olivia corrected. She then drew a very vivid word picture of pregnant women dirty dancing with twelve-year olds. It was creepy.
"That brings up a very interesting legal argument about whether is statutory rape if the predator is pregnant." I said. "Perchance it could be said that the twelve-year old and the fetus were, um, comingling."
"Yeah, I don't know if that's an interesting legal argument so much as a prurient one." Rafe remarked.
Claire Olivia sighed. "Perchance, comingling, prurient. Speak English." Rafe and I chucked.
We found a spot near the café and stepped into the cold night air.
"So, what do you think?" Rafe asked.
"This is what I think." Claire Olivia said, slamming the driver's side door. She told Rafe about gas station nightly visitors and hiding in the bushes at the Taco-Bell drive through, and having a small penis because the girl starts texting. Funny stuff.
"No fair, that last one was Chelsea Handler."
"Who?" I quietly asked Rafe once Claire Olivia jogged towards the café.
"Don't worry about it." He said.
"I guess I won't. Why do I feel like an alien?"
"Welcome to my world," he said, smiling at me.
The night before, I fell asleep pretty early from the day of skiing. Rafe had told me that his mom sung 'All You Need is Love' after he told her about what happened that day. 'Nothing that comes from love could be wrong.' She said.
In the coffee shop, Claire Olivia went to give some hugs and greetings to her friends from her high school, Rangeview. Some of them stared at Rafe and me, while we were ordering coffee for ourselves. I didn't bother. We were now a couple, and that's that. Nothing to be ashamed of.
We then headed to a table on the wall, Rafe sat facing the crowd, while I faced him and the wall. Claire Olivia sat next to Rafe, and she looked at me, almost like I was being interrogated.
"So, what's Rafe like in Natick?"
I glanced at him with a bitter look. Hadn't you told her the lie was over?
"He's just Rafe, I guess. Sweet, sweet Rafe." I smiled at him.
"Whoever that is." She said.
I sipped my coffee, changing the conversation.
"So, this is what you guys would do in a Saturday night? I guess I though we'd go to a hoedown. Or country dancing. Or banjoing. Is that a thing? Banjoing?"
"It could be." I said.
"We're doing all that later." Claire Olivia said, sipping her cappuccino. "Well go eat Rocky Mountain oysters."
I shook my head, and said, "I have a long-standing agreement with cows that I won't eat their balls if they won't eat mine."
Rafe squirted water out of his nose, making Claire Olivia shake her head in mock disgust.
"Drinking problem." She explained to me, and I nodded.
"Peeing problem, too." I said, and Rafe cracked up. Urinal Boy. My Urinal Boy.
After that, a purple haired kid with acne over his face came peering out from above the crowd. I tracked Rafe's eyes as he looked at the kid, and the kid came to our table.
"Whassup, bitches!" he shrieked with a feminine voice.
"Caleb!" Rafe said. "This is Ben."
Claire Olivia quickly scooped him out of view, shouting "Don't you love my hair?" before disappearing from us. Weird. I laughed a bit from the awkwardness.
"Interesting friend." I said.
"He's not really my friend. We're more like acquaintances. People have always tried to group us together, because, you know." I nodded.
"Ben, this is Caleb." Claire Olivia returned with Rafe's weird friend. "Caleb, Ben, Rafe's boyfriend."
Caleb got a 'you-have-a-boyfriend?!' look to Rafe, which he smiled at him awkwardly for it.
I stuck out a hand to him, which he accepted after some weird gestures. He sat next to me, and we all looked at one-another. It was a weird grouping. Not as weird as the apple orchard or Scanner Pong, but close.
"How's life?" Rafe asked.
"Tragic. I'm seriously pondering running off to Cali to become a porn star."
"He's kidding." Rafe said to me.
"What's so tragic?" I asked.
"I couldn't get a single ticket to the New Kids on the Block reunion tour." He said. "I am so dejected and depressed, that I'm thinking of going to some boring-ass East coast prep school just to get a boyfriend next year."
"Fuck you." Rafe said, half-jokingly.
"As if." Caleb replied. I laughed a bit at him.
Then we all drank our drinks, watching people walk by. I looked at Rafe, who was spinning his cup of coffee while contemplating something. Awkward. I'd guess.
"Wow, there sure are lots of people here, drinking coffee." Claire Olivia offered.
"Yes. People do drink coffee." I said.
After a while, Caleb walked away. Rafe looked embarrassed, and Claire Olivia looked extremely awkward.
"So, what just happened?" I asked, when we returned to Rafe's house.
"Caleb." He replied, after a while.
"Fun guy."
"Har har." He replied. "Not really."
He glanced at me. We were eating some apple pie and vanilla bean gelato on his bed. Absolutely nothing happened as we ate our leftovers.
"How much did you tell Claire Olivia about us?" I asked.
"Everything that you heard." He said.
I nodded quietly. He didn't tell him that he lied to me. He didn't even tell her.
"Well, when are you going to tell them that you lied to me?"
He blushed in shame.
"I will. Just not now." He said.
We stood up; our plates empty. We placed them on his dresser, with them stacked up. We faced each other. The door was closed. And just like a drug, we went back to our addicting dimension, him on me as I groped his butt. The room felt small, and we just kissed, before he began to take action, shoving his between my thighs in a thrusting motion.
After finishing, I stood back up, panting from my arousal. "Early flight." I said, averting his eyes. "Probably should pack up."
"R-r-right."
It felt wonderful. It never felt so good. Like cool air after a day of soccer practice. Ice cream in a hot summer's day. The warmth of the fireplace in the cold, New England winter. We fell back to his bed after stuffing our stuff into our bags.
"Love you, Benny."
"Love you too, Rafey." He giggled at me. We slept peacefully after that, ready to return Natick's embrace tomorrow.
Sunday was weird. Rafe and I had returned to our dorms, and I began to study some math. Without Rafe, beside me, I felt like half my heart was missing. Like the feeling when you forget to wear a coat in winter. I spent the whole day thinking, from the library to my room to the bathroom, and the cafeteria. Rafe, sweet, sweet Rafe. I thought.
Monday came, and we met when he was heading to calc while I was going back to my dorms. We nodded at each other, and he felt relieved. I did too. Just wait, Rafe. We can meet later. I wanted to tell him. But he was gone by the time I turned back. I silently cursed myself, and went back to my dorms, fantasizing about him. This isn't going to work. I thought. What would the teachers think?
We also saw each other in the library and the cafeteria, him sitting with Albie and Toby while I sat with Steve and the gang. I had been a lot quieter with them, and Rafe had completely left the group after the argument in the showers. We certainly weren't ourselves after Colorado. And Rafe did realize it, from his worried look in the cafeteria. I wanted to tell him that it's going to be okay, but nothing came out of me, before Steve shouted out another question for me, distracting me from him.
"Hey." I said, opening the door for him.
"Hey." He replied.
He came in, sitting on Bryce's bed. His bed.
"How you doing?" He asked me. I began to feel the feeling from Colorado. Maybe a less potent version, though.
"Busy." I answered. "Clarkson decided two days after Thanksgiving would be a good due date for our lab report. The effect of concentration on the rate of reaction. Snore."
"Sounds scintillating," He said. "How was your day?"
"Good, good." I said, admiring his bony cheeks. "You?"
"Fine." He said.
We sat there, straining for words.
"Why are things so weird?" He said.
"I don't know. I don't feel weird, exactly." This was a lie. It hasn't felt normal since Colorado.
"Yeah, me neither." He said. "I miss being with you."
"Well, you don't have to miss it." Both of us made sure the door was closed properly. He expected a kiss, but I gave him a tackle hug. He warmly accepted it.
"Don't worry. We'll be fine." I said. "I will never, ever, leave you."
"Me too, me too."
We hugged for a moment, before letting go.
"I better get back to the lab report." I said. "Talk later?"
"Sure, definitely."
He left my room, and when I closed the door, my legs weakened suddenly. I sat down on my desk, grabbing the papers of my lab report. Rafe, sweet Rafe. Why must you be so beautiful. I thought.
I thought of writing a poem to him, but instead, continued on my lab report. Maybe later.
Maybe later.
That night, I couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of Rafe, my boyfriend, who only now had kept me up all night. I was thinking of what to write for Rafe, drinking some plastic screwdriver to treat a headache. The clock showed 3:50AM when I heard someone approaching my door. I darted towards the door and opened it.
"Those footsteps. I know those footsteps." I looked at him, and whispered. Rafe stopped, and we went inside. It went on so fast. I closed the door, our foreheads were together, then our noses, and finally our lips tightly smushed into each other. I felt a tip of tongue probing and I wasn't even sure which way, whose was what. He had a faint taste of coffee and lemon. I then felt fingers caressing under my flannel robe, then it was on the floor, and we were on my bed.
And sweet, sweet Rafe was on me once again, my arms around him, his beautiful face dominating my vision. We explored each other with our lips and fingers.
No words. Thoughts went away as we sank back into the world we made in Colorado. Tears came out of me; I didn't know why. And there was just silence.
"I missed you." I said. "I just missed you."
"Me too. Are you drunk?"
"A little."
"I can't believe you're bi."
"My uncle was, too."
"Oh."
"This. This feels different with you."
"Yeah." He said, lying on the bed with me as I made way for him.
"I like this a ton more."
"Oh." He said, and he went quiet. Unlikely, but he did.
Then, we fell asleep. His back curled into my embrace, my arms around his chest. I was finally able to close my eyes and drift off. No poem can explain this feeling. This feeling of home.