Chapter 6
"I talked to Justi," Gordie said, lying down on Chris's bed. Chris was watching him from a chair at his desk.
"And. . . ?"
"And we're friends."
"Good. She could kick your ass, so it's a good thing you're friends."
"Thank you, Chris."
"Hey, it's my job as your friend to let you know when girls can kick your ass."
"I'm sure."
"Hey," Chris asked, standing up and coming over to sit by Gordie on the bed, "you know what I'd really like to do right now?" His blue eyes glittered with something Gordie had never seen before.
"Chris, we've been over this," Gordie began.
"That's not what I mean, you moron. Here, come with me."
Gordie followed Chris out of the house- silently, so as not to alert Eyeball that Gordie had been in the house in the first place- and out of his yard.
Moonlight lit up the normally drab streets of Castle Rock. Gordie followed Chris, in awe of everything he was seeing. He'd never been outside on the night of a full moon with fog like this. It was giving everything a very ethereal sense. It was beautiful.
"Have you ever been to the river at night, Gordie?" Chris whispered.
Gordie shook his head.
"It's awesome as hell. You've never seen anything like it."
They passed the tree house, passed the huge hills, trudged through the low valley- all without a sound. The night looked like it would crack if they spoke.
"Here," Chris whispered, and pulled back a willow branch.
Gordie's breath caught in his throat. Chris was right- this was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen in his life. Fog hung in sheets over the thin river. Moonlight streamed through it in places, giving the water a dappled, glossy look. The air was warm, but the river was warmer, and in no time at all, Chris and Gordie had stripped off their shirts and slid in the water.
There were so many things both of them wanted to say, but pride kept them from saying anything at all as they swam around. It was the first time since they'd started a relationship that they'd been swimming together, and Gordie found that it was extremely hard and awkward to keep having to take his eyes off of Chris all the time.
"Gordie," Chris finally said, swimming up behind him. It was all that was said- it was all that needed to be said. They kissed again, and, were you to ask either of them, they would both call it the best kiss of their lives.
After what seemed like an eternity, they separated.
"Now I'm really glad I brushed my teeth," Gordie said, closing his eyes and floating up to the surface on his back. "Ooh, it's cold out there."
"Yeah," Chris agreed mildly. "And neither one of us brought towels."
"Now we'll both have to stay here," Gordie said in mock sadness. "Oh damn."
"My thoughts exactly," Chris replied, floating thoughtfully. "Gordie, have you told your parents about. . . you know. . . ?"
"No."
"I haven't told my parents either." Chris tilted his head, the way he always did when he was thinking about something serious. "Hey, Gordie, do you ever. . . do you ever think that maybe what we're doing is wrong?"
Gordie opened his eyes and sunk his body down so that only his head was visible above the dark river. "No," he replied honestly. "Do you?"
"So many people say it's wrong. . . " Chris said slowly. "How can so many people be wrong about one thing?. . . "
"People are wrong about a lot of things, Chris," Gordie said. "People crucified Christ. Do you know why?"
Chris, never one for religious theory, shook his head.
"They crucified him because they were afraid. Afraid of all the things he was saying. Because they'd never heard anything like it before. They had no idea what was going on, so they convinced themselves that it was wrong. Sound familiar?"
Chris nodded.
"Chris, do you think what we're doing is wrong?"
"No, of course not," he said quickly. "I just. . . I dunno, Gordie."
"I don't know, either," Gordie admitted honestly. "Quite frankly, we could be on the highway to hell without brakes. But I don't care, Chris. Know why?" He swatted away a mosquito on his arm almost lazily.
Chris shook his head again.
"Because I love you."
Chris raised his eyebrows and swam over to Gordie.
"The feeling's mutual, man."
"Hey, Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Would it kill you to say it back?"
"Say what back?"
"I told you I loved you, Chris. The customary response is 'I love you, too.' Or some form of that."
"I've never said that to anyone before, Gordie."
Gordie's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Even him, with his messed up father, had heard that said to him and said it back hundreds of times. From his mother. From Denny, when he was still alive. From all of his relatives, really, except his father. "You've never said 'I love you'?" Gordie asked softly in disbelief.
Chris shook his head. "I've never needed to. I've never loved anyone."
Gordie looked down at the black water, trying to lose himself in it.
"Until now."
When Gordie looked back up, Chris's eyes were warmer than they'd ever been as he said, very slowly and clearly, "Gordie, I love you too."
Gordie felt like singing.
Back on the bank, after their little midnight expedition, Gordie and Chris were putting their shirts back on, unable to take their eyes off each other.
"Gordie?" Chris asked after a little while.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to. . . do you want to sleep together?"
Gordie's jaw dropped for the second time that night.
"Not like that. I just meant, you know. . . be there?" When Gordie said nothing, Chris sighed. "This is really awkward."
"I'd love to, Chris," Gordie said, smiling.
Chris smiled back.
On their way to the tree house, they talked about everything, it seemed like.
"When I was eight," Chris was saying, "my aunt wanted to take custody of me. My dad refused. I protested, and got this." He took his shirt off again, unashamed, and showed Gordie a long scar going down his side. "That's when I learned not to talk to my dad unless I really have to." He put his shirt back on, laughing.
"What happened?" Gordie asked, truly afraid of the answer.
"He hit me with a broken beer bottle," Chris answered wryly.
"Oh, Chris. . . " Gordie trailed off, not knowing how to complete the thought.
"When I was ten, Eyeball slammed my head against the corner of the dinner table so hard that my ear bled for a fucking week," Chris continued, showing Gordie a scar in his ear. "I don't have any hearing in this ear now."
"No more, Chris," Gordie said sadly. "I don't want to hear any more. I don't ever want to hear any more."
"Okay," Chris agreed. "I just figured you should know. . . "
"Why?"
"My family is a huge part of me," Chris explained. "They're there every single goddamned day, reminding me of what not to do with my life."
Gordie nodded.
"Without looking at Eyeball and how fucked up he is, I'd probably end up exactly the way he is. We're here."
It always amazed Gordie how matter-of-fact Chris was about his family life. It also never ceased to amaze him that Chris was going through life thinking that it was his fault that his family beat him up. No matter how many times Gordie had tried to tell him the opposite, he remained convinced that it was he who was defective, not his family.
Chris and Gordie climbed up the ladder, joking all the way. The dark mood had somehow lifted with Chris's proclamation of "we're here", and the two of them climbed, laughing.
"I love this new porch," Chris commented. They'd added a porch to the tree house last year, with a real door, instead of the trap door they'd had. The reason for this was that people kept breaking in, so this door could have a lock. They'd decided on a combination lock, so that no one had to carry their keys around with them.
Chris bent to work the lock and swung the door open.
Four voices screamed in unison as Chris and Gordie found Vern and Justi inside looking quite. . . busy.
"Hey, sorry we walked in on ye last night," Chris said to Vern and Justi the next day in the tree house. They'd come up there to eat lunch and talk to each other. Teddy, who had just met a new Protestant, was absent, citing "more important things to do."
"It's okay," Vern said. "Maybe we should get a sign: 'Screwing in Progress' and hang it when we don't want to be interrupted."
"Good idea, Vern," said Gordie, rolling his eyes. "Not."
The person who knows the most about the relationship between two people is rarely in the relationship. Much more often, they are observers, most of the time good friends of the two in the relationship.
And so it was with Justi and Vern. Gordie and Chris seemed to know much more about them than they themselves did. What they knew shocked them.
The number one thing Chris had taught Vern about girls was never to hook up with someone who had just gone through something sad. And Justi had just had her heart ground into dust and scattered to the wind.
Vern looked happy. In fact, he looked overjoyed. But Justi, leaning into his shoulder, looked uncomfortable enough to cry. Chris wanted to reach out and hug her.
Justi had done something she wished had never happened because she was on the rebound from Chris with someone who had been waiting for it to happen for years. And now she was stuck carrying the "dirty little secret" on her own. Neither Chris nor Gordie had ever seen such a doomed relationship.
Chris couldn't help but be angry with Vern. What business did he have making things this much more complicated? Didn't he know? Couldn't he see that this was going to end in heartbreak for both of them?
Gordie, holding the other end of the spectrum, couldn't believe that Justi was leading Vern on like this. There was no way either one of them were going to keep this relationship up- either she would end it because her heart wasn't in it, or Vern would wise up and drop her.
Either way, Gordie and Chris were both sure that all of the tears had not yet been shed.
End of Chapter 6
As always, thanks to Charligirl for beta-ing. . . You're wonderful. . . And special thanks to scarLeTT for helping me think of the title! (
"I talked to Justi," Gordie said, lying down on Chris's bed. Chris was watching him from a chair at his desk.
"And. . . ?"
"And we're friends."
"Good. She could kick your ass, so it's a good thing you're friends."
"Thank you, Chris."
"Hey, it's my job as your friend to let you know when girls can kick your ass."
"I'm sure."
"Hey," Chris asked, standing up and coming over to sit by Gordie on the bed, "you know what I'd really like to do right now?" His blue eyes glittered with something Gordie had never seen before.
"Chris, we've been over this," Gordie began.
"That's not what I mean, you moron. Here, come with me."
Gordie followed Chris out of the house- silently, so as not to alert Eyeball that Gordie had been in the house in the first place- and out of his yard.
Moonlight lit up the normally drab streets of Castle Rock. Gordie followed Chris, in awe of everything he was seeing. He'd never been outside on the night of a full moon with fog like this. It was giving everything a very ethereal sense. It was beautiful.
"Have you ever been to the river at night, Gordie?" Chris whispered.
Gordie shook his head.
"It's awesome as hell. You've never seen anything like it."
They passed the tree house, passed the huge hills, trudged through the low valley- all without a sound. The night looked like it would crack if they spoke.
"Here," Chris whispered, and pulled back a willow branch.
Gordie's breath caught in his throat. Chris was right- this was the prettiest thing he'd ever seen in his life. Fog hung in sheets over the thin river. Moonlight streamed through it in places, giving the water a dappled, glossy look. The air was warm, but the river was warmer, and in no time at all, Chris and Gordie had stripped off their shirts and slid in the water.
There were so many things both of them wanted to say, but pride kept them from saying anything at all as they swam around. It was the first time since they'd started a relationship that they'd been swimming together, and Gordie found that it was extremely hard and awkward to keep having to take his eyes off of Chris all the time.
"Gordie," Chris finally said, swimming up behind him. It was all that was said- it was all that needed to be said. They kissed again, and, were you to ask either of them, they would both call it the best kiss of their lives.
After what seemed like an eternity, they separated.
"Now I'm really glad I brushed my teeth," Gordie said, closing his eyes and floating up to the surface on his back. "Ooh, it's cold out there."
"Yeah," Chris agreed mildly. "And neither one of us brought towels."
"Now we'll both have to stay here," Gordie said in mock sadness. "Oh damn."
"My thoughts exactly," Chris replied, floating thoughtfully. "Gordie, have you told your parents about. . . you know. . . ?"
"No."
"I haven't told my parents either." Chris tilted his head, the way he always did when he was thinking about something serious. "Hey, Gordie, do you ever. . . do you ever think that maybe what we're doing is wrong?"
Gordie opened his eyes and sunk his body down so that only his head was visible above the dark river. "No," he replied honestly. "Do you?"
"So many people say it's wrong. . . " Chris said slowly. "How can so many people be wrong about one thing?. . . "
"People are wrong about a lot of things, Chris," Gordie said. "People crucified Christ. Do you know why?"
Chris, never one for religious theory, shook his head.
"They crucified him because they were afraid. Afraid of all the things he was saying. Because they'd never heard anything like it before. They had no idea what was going on, so they convinced themselves that it was wrong. Sound familiar?"
Chris nodded.
"Chris, do you think what we're doing is wrong?"
"No, of course not," he said quickly. "I just. . . I dunno, Gordie."
"I don't know, either," Gordie admitted honestly. "Quite frankly, we could be on the highway to hell without brakes. But I don't care, Chris. Know why?" He swatted away a mosquito on his arm almost lazily.
Chris shook his head again.
"Because I love you."
Chris raised his eyebrows and swam over to Gordie.
"The feeling's mutual, man."
"Hey, Chris?"
"Yeah?"
"Would it kill you to say it back?"
"Say what back?"
"I told you I loved you, Chris. The customary response is 'I love you, too.' Or some form of that."
"I've never said that to anyone before, Gordie."
Gordie's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Even him, with his messed up father, had heard that said to him and said it back hundreds of times. From his mother. From Denny, when he was still alive. From all of his relatives, really, except his father. "You've never said 'I love you'?" Gordie asked softly in disbelief.
Chris shook his head. "I've never needed to. I've never loved anyone."
Gordie looked down at the black water, trying to lose himself in it.
"Until now."
When Gordie looked back up, Chris's eyes were warmer than they'd ever been as he said, very slowly and clearly, "Gordie, I love you too."
Gordie felt like singing.
Back on the bank, after their little midnight expedition, Gordie and Chris were putting their shirts back on, unable to take their eyes off each other.
"Gordie?" Chris asked after a little while.
"Yeah?"
"Do you want to. . . do you want to sleep together?"
Gordie's jaw dropped for the second time that night.
"Not like that. I just meant, you know. . . be there?" When Gordie said nothing, Chris sighed. "This is really awkward."
"I'd love to, Chris," Gordie said, smiling.
Chris smiled back.
On their way to the tree house, they talked about everything, it seemed like.
"When I was eight," Chris was saying, "my aunt wanted to take custody of me. My dad refused. I protested, and got this." He took his shirt off again, unashamed, and showed Gordie a long scar going down his side. "That's when I learned not to talk to my dad unless I really have to." He put his shirt back on, laughing.
"What happened?" Gordie asked, truly afraid of the answer.
"He hit me with a broken beer bottle," Chris answered wryly.
"Oh, Chris. . . " Gordie trailed off, not knowing how to complete the thought.
"When I was ten, Eyeball slammed my head against the corner of the dinner table so hard that my ear bled for a fucking week," Chris continued, showing Gordie a scar in his ear. "I don't have any hearing in this ear now."
"No more, Chris," Gordie said sadly. "I don't want to hear any more. I don't ever want to hear any more."
"Okay," Chris agreed. "I just figured you should know. . . "
"Why?"
"My family is a huge part of me," Chris explained. "They're there every single goddamned day, reminding me of what not to do with my life."
Gordie nodded.
"Without looking at Eyeball and how fucked up he is, I'd probably end up exactly the way he is. We're here."
It always amazed Gordie how matter-of-fact Chris was about his family life. It also never ceased to amaze him that Chris was going through life thinking that it was his fault that his family beat him up. No matter how many times Gordie had tried to tell him the opposite, he remained convinced that it was he who was defective, not his family.
Chris and Gordie climbed up the ladder, joking all the way. The dark mood had somehow lifted with Chris's proclamation of "we're here", and the two of them climbed, laughing.
"I love this new porch," Chris commented. They'd added a porch to the tree house last year, with a real door, instead of the trap door they'd had. The reason for this was that people kept breaking in, so this door could have a lock. They'd decided on a combination lock, so that no one had to carry their keys around with them.
Chris bent to work the lock and swung the door open.
Four voices screamed in unison as Chris and Gordie found Vern and Justi inside looking quite. . . busy.
"Hey, sorry we walked in on ye last night," Chris said to Vern and Justi the next day in the tree house. They'd come up there to eat lunch and talk to each other. Teddy, who had just met a new Protestant, was absent, citing "more important things to do."
"It's okay," Vern said. "Maybe we should get a sign: 'Screwing in Progress' and hang it when we don't want to be interrupted."
"Good idea, Vern," said Gordie, rolling his eyes. "Not."
The person who knows the most about the relationship between two people is rarely in the relationship. Much more often, they are observers, most of the time good friends of the two in the relationship.
And so it was with Justi and Vern. Gordie and Chris seemed to know much more about them than they themselves did. What they knew shocked them.
The number one thing Chris had taught Vern about girls was never to hook up with someone who had just gone through something sad. And Justi had just had her heart ground into dust and scattered to the wind.
Vern looked happy. In fact, he looked overjoyed. But Justi, leaning into his shoulder, looked uncomfortable enough to cry. Chris wanted to reach out and hug her.
Justi had done something she wished had never happened because she was on the rebound from Chris with someone who had been waiting for it to happen for years. And now she was stuck carrying the "dirty little secret" on her own. Neither Chris nor Gordie had ever seen such a doomed relationship.
Chris couldn't help but be angry with Vern. What business did he have making things this much more complicated? Didn't he know? Couldn't he see that this was going to end in heartbreak for both of them?
Gordie, holding the other end of the spectrum, couldn't believe that Justi was leading Vern on like this. There was no way either one of them were going to keep this relationship up- either she would end it because her heart wasn't in it, or Vern would wise up and drop her.
Either way, Gordie and Chris were both sure that all of the tears had not yet been shed.
End of Chapter 6
As always, thanks to Charligirl for beta-ing. . . You're wonderful. . . And special thanks to scarLeTT for helping me think of the title! (