I need an easy friend
I do, with an ear to lend
I do think you fit this shoe
I do, won't you have a clue
-Nirvana, "About A Girl"
***
Fulton
Without Portman, I'd be spewing my lunch on the floor right now. I've done so many interviews on TV, but my nervousness never goes away. Just when I start to sweat, Portman gives me a pat and rub on my shoulder to calm me down.
"Relax, bro." He has those cool, gleaming eyes and that firm but sure tone that said this will all be over in an hour. "It's not their show. It's ours!"
I look at him and he smiles back. He cleans off the sweat from my forehead as one of the stage hands calls us out, and we come out wearing our oversized Minnesota Wild jerseys and sit down in front of Tom Arnold and a bunch of other guys.
It's The Best Damn Sports Show Period. Portman and I watch the show at home, but they never talk about hockey, so I can tell Portman feels really special about this. As the show went on, I felt better and better. Then Arnold and the guys start popping out those jokes that we know are stupid, but we laugh at them anyway, and when they ask a question about our lives as enforcers, Portman and I just wing it and make up stuff as we go along. I guess it's cool to be with a bunch of other real guys talking about sports and girls.
Not that I was into girls.
So it annoyed me when one of the guys asked, "So Portman, how are the chicks treating you?"
When Portman starts giggling to that, my laughter slows down. Yeah, Portman, how is she treating you? I want to know, too. When he calms down, he starts.
"Well, the fish aren't biting now!" We both laugh, then, "Actually, I'm getting married!"
Portman laughed again, and the guys cheered him on, but my blush drained away and I turned to him, trying to keep a straight face, just as he continued with a big smile on his face.
"In fact, I want to let everyone know, and break a few girls' hearts, that I, Dean Portman, am engaged."
No way!
And then he goes on telling who she is, what she looks like, and how good of a kisser she is! I know he's been dating girls again, and I was okay with that, but Portman never made it this far! But I forced my smile, pretending everything was okay and that I was happy for him. Portman turns to see me. When he does, his smile also becomes forced. Now I'm hurting him. I'm sorry that I did, but what can I say? I still love that bastard.
Portman
So now we're on a plane heading back to St. Paul. I hate planes, especially at night. So does Fulton. They shake, and the shaking scares me. Fulton holds my hand because he knows we're two lame Ducks that make poor flyers. Practices start the day after, and I can't come home without Fulton. I move my hand over his and rub it. He squeezes it back.
Fulton's spacing out again as he stares out of the window and blasts Soundgarden out of his Walkman earphones. I can tell by his watery eyes that he's holding back tears. My little surprise at the sports show hurt him badly. I had to break the ice.
"Fulton." I speak over his earphones, but he can't hear me. I shake his hand as his eyes are still looking at the dark blue clouds outside. "Fulton!" He finally turns and takes off his earphones.
"You're spacing out", I go.
He's pissed. But I like it when he's pissed. He looks cute when he pouts his lips on his soft, round head like that. I took a big breath and ask softly, "Dude, what's up?
"You could've told me before I made a complete ass of myself on TV." Fulton speaks downright ticked.
"I wanted to make it a surprise, that's all." Some surprise, Dean.
"And it was a helluva good one!" He read my mind. We knew each other so damn well.
"I'm an idiot. I should've told you. It won't happen again. Okay, bro?"
Fulton nods as some kids run down the plane's aisle with these posters of us in Minnesota Wild hockey gear, which says in big letters DEAN PORTMAN 21, FULTON REED 44, THE BASH BROTHERS. Then they show me their Sharpee. Fulton sees this and smiles back. Fulton and I are suckers for signing autographs for kids, so we smile and sign away.
When they leave, Fulton goes, "I will be your best man, right?" We both chuckle at that. That's Fulton for you: Always putting a funny spin on the situation. I love seeing Fulton smile.
Fulton
At 9 PM, we finally get to St. Paul International, and when we go to pick up our bags, there she is, holding Portman's blood-red bandana in her hand and waiting patiently for her hot Latin lover. Portman never left his bandana behind. I know I never did.
"Hey, baby." Portman says as she kisses Amber on her left cheek. His face hasn't been that lit since we left New York.
"I missed you." Amber says in that ditzy smile of hers that I grew to hate.
Then, she wraps the bandana over her eyes, grabs him by the arm and pulls him outside to her Beetle parked in the white zone. I grab my bags (and the bags from Portman she didn't want to take) and follow the two.
"Where're you're taking me, Amb? You got me a surprise? What is it?"
Ugh.
"What about Fulton?" Portman remembers as he steps into the car.
"Oh, he can come, too." Amber says as though she didn't care. I didn't like her, but I have to take the ride. The hell am I paying thirty bucks for a cab ride! I put our bags in the trunk and we're off.
Amber Renwick was, can I say, his bitch? She was this model for some important fashion magazine, and, when you saw her, you didn't need to guess how she got to where she was. She was something that guys (except me) would kill their mothers just to not feel guilty about landing in bed with her, and when she didn't get her way, she would either put on this puppy face on or, like this one time at a party when Portman wasn't around, she would throw fits that would make Shannen Doherty blush.
As Portman slips his hand onto her bare legs, Amber slaps it and the two giggle. I just stare out of the window and into my thoughts.
Suddenly, I'm back at Eden Hall High with the rest of our fellow Ducks. I'm in Julie Gaffney's dorm room. She had this sleepover party, and we were playing truth or dare with her, Connie, our fellow Duck Tammy whom she invited, Guy, Portman, and me. Portman dared Julie into kissing Connie, because Portman was into hot lesbian action. And, man did he get it! Even Guy liked seeing two really cute girls getting it on! I smiled, but only because Dean smiled.
But Julie was always the one for revenge. When it was her turn, she dared Portman to kiss me. Portman gave me the weirdest look. I didn't know what to do. I never kissed anyone before. I thought maybe we could get away with it since Portman was dating this girl, so no one would seriously think that we're... into that sort of thing. If we kissed, I thought I would take it too far and he'd be grossed out with me. I didn't want to lose my best friend, my only friend, but I had to take the chance. So our heads slowly come close as we closed our eyes and pressed our lips together softly.
And he didn't let go!
My heart was racing like a Porsche and my dams of sweat were breaking. Oh, you only had to see the Bash Brothers kissing each other just to get a howl from everyone in the small dorm room. As I heard the howling from the other four, I quickly pulled away.
When I opened my eyes, I saw Portman smiling back at me. Not bad for my first kiss, I guessed.
Later that night, Portman and I went back to our dorm rooms. Portman closed the door softly and turned the volume of our stereo really low (very untypical of him). As we undressed for the night, I noticed Portman staring at me, but when I did, he turned away. When I got to just my undershirt and white boxers, he sat on my bed, wearing nothing but his boxers. Portman was ripped: Huge arms, big chest, and washboard abs. I was thinking, dreaming of how much I wanted to rest my head between those big pecs of his. Then I realized: I'm staring at his pecs! I turned away, sweating like crazy.
"Bro, come and sit."
I obeyed, and I sat next to him on my bed. After an awkward silence and some nervous laughter from the two of us, Portman broke it.
"Oh man! That was some weird shit with Jules and Con tonight!"
I laughed at it. It was pretty weird shit.
"Just don't try to ask Jennifer for that. She'll pull your hair out!" I joked.
Then he calms down and goes, "Hey, Fult, I'm curious. I hope it's okay if I asked."
Oh no. He was going to ask if I was gay, wasn't he? I knew it! I had the biggest crush on my best friend since we first clicked at the Games two years earlier, and now it was showing. I should've cut him off earlier! Adrenaline was running through my body, and I saw my hand shaking a little. He continued.
"I was wondering: That kiss we had? Well, Fult, I just want you to know I'll still be your best friend, but, uh,"-
But just then, my shaking hand grabbed his left pec!
OH NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!
He saw this, and our dorm room was filled with laughter, because I was so nervous. I took my hand off of him, got up, and went to the wall. He rolled over my bed as though he was being tickled to death.
Then Portman got up and, as we were still laughing our guts out, he put my head against my back. We calmed down, and he turned me around, and I was shocked to see him staring at me with those gazing eyes and that beautiful smile. I couldn't help but to lock my eyes with his and smile back. Then he came close, and our lips were together again.
Now it was a question of who'd back out first.
He didn't. Neither did me. Our kiss just grew deeper and deeper. Then he slipped his arms under my shirt and around my chubby body, gently touching my back with his fingers. It felt so good, so I wrapped my arms around his. Now that was a first kiss!
When we finally broke off ten minutes later, Portman went to my bed and just lied there wearing only his boxers and his big smile. I turned off the light and joined him. We just slept together that night. No hardcore stuff; just holding and kissing him under the covers was good enough for me. Then he blurted out,
"It's my first kiss, too."
Portman
So Amber finally stops the car and gets out. I turn to hear Fulton snoring away. Still blinded by my own bandana, I reach my arms to him, and feel that he's hugging himself. He's probably dreaming about me. I should tell him that he looks like a baby when he does that. I shake him by his knee and say, "Fulton, we're here!"
He wakes up. Amber opens both of our doors and pulls me out. Is Fulton following me, too? I hope so. This must be something big, probably her little gift for our engagement. The air suddenly turns warm as she finally takes off the blindfold, and I saw that we are in this Texas-themed restaurant with some shitty country music hee-hawing from the speakers. The place is full of people we mostly didn't know, holding wine glasses and beer bottles up in the air, shouting, "Hip-Hip-Hooray!"
And I blurt out a big, happy "HEY!" I turn around and see Fulton totally bummed out, but I put my arm around him and move him down with me into the crowd. Everyone is congratulating Amber and me, blessing my marriage, shit like that. Fulton then wanders off as girls and guys in cowboy suits were dancing all over the place, taking orders in those fake accents.
Everyone looks sharp tonight. Nice suits; clean ties; the whole bit. All of the team is here. So's that prick of our coach James Manning and our hot and lovely lady owner Ione Graham.
Fulton
I can tell this was all her idea. One: If either I or she weren't there, Portman would smash the stereo with his bare hands (and he could). Two: No one from the Ducks is here.
I guess it's understandable: Four of them are in the League, so they have to start practice soon. Adam Banks played for Colorado; Russ was with the L.A. Kings, and Charlie Conway, Anaheim. (A Duck playing for the Ducks. It's too weird.) Luis Mendoza made it in the Florida Panthers, so he's the only one not in our conference. I know Guy, the Halls, and Dwayne were doing some minor league stuff, and everyone else was just out of it. I also know that Guy, Connie, Averman, Goldberg, the Halls, and the Tammys are still living in Minneapolis, so if we ever had a party, they were automatically invited, and since this isn't our party, they're not here.
So I walk around, torturing myself by seeing Portman and Amber holding hands in front of the big crowd of people we mostly didn't know. Just before I make it to the bar to get a Budweiser, I'm mobbed by (awh crap) reporters. They're asking me how it feels to see one of the Bash Brothers get engaged and when would I get married. I'm not in a happy mood tonight, and it's getting harder and harder to keep a straight face in front of them, but I have to play this stupid charade, only because I don't want to hurt Dean. I keep watching over him.
I did want him to be happy. But he looks happy with her.
After a beer or three, Portman's hand slaps on my shoulder, bringing with him that terrifying look on his face. He puts his arm around my shoulders and leads me to the bathroom. After making sure everyone was gone and all the stalls were cleared, he locked the door.
"Dude, what's your problem?" He snaps. "Can't you at least be happy that I'm getting hitched?"
I think about it, and I look down. He already knows the answer.
"When did you ask her?" I start.
"Just three days ago."
"And you're marrying her after knowing her for just five months. We've known each other for, what, 13 or 15 years? That's half of our lives, Dean! And you're going to throw it all away for some girl who knows as much about you as those damn reporters!" I have to pipe down; these bathroom walls make good echoes.
"At least I know her!" What?
"What the hell does that mean? You know me, too!"
"Then tell me why you're really pissed about me marrying Amber!"
I want to tell him, but I can't say I'm still in love with him. I'm not the one for sap crap.
"Yeah, that's what I thought!" Portman snaps again, but quickly quiets down. "You know what annoys me? I gave you friendship when no one else did. I gave you happiness. I gave you half my life, and I loved you more than I loved myself. I opened my heart for you, but you never opened yours. There's a lot of stuff you never talk about that I want to know because I care for you and love you, but you're wrapped in this little world of yours and you shut me out so many times. I've tried, and tried, and tried to come into that world, but you won't let me." At this point, Dean's eyes water up. I never saw him like that before. "And you know what? I won't spend another minute of my life trying to get in."
We both fall silent. Dean wipes his tears as our conversation turns to a guilt fest.
"I'm sorry," I tell him through my breaking voice, squeezing his hands tightly, "I'm a jerk. I'm really happy you found someone, and if you love her, then I'm okay with it. I'll still be your Bash Brother and best friend no matter what. That's all I ask."
Portman then pulls his hands away from mine, unlocks the door and says as though he didn't give a damn, "whatever", and leaves. I go into one of the stalls and the tears wouldn't stop.
Portman
Amber gave Fulton and me rides back to our place. The night was long, and now I'm back in my pad, which is in the same ritzy apartment building as Fulton's. Amber's right next to me on the bed, with her hand across my chest. She's sleeping so quietly. Wish I could do the same. I just can't go to sleep and not think about what I did to Fulton today. But it was the truth. He knew the day would come when our Great Spring Romance would be over and that we'd move on with our lives. That's how I want to think of it. But he's right. You can't throw away 13 years just like that.
Man, that arm of hers sure feels heavier now.
Fulton
My apartment is such a mess right now. Bottles, trash, and hockey equipment are all over the place. It hasn't been very clean around here since Portman and I broke up. I'm on my bed, thinking about the fact that he's sleeping with her right now two floors up, even though I should be thinking about what he said in that bathroom tonight. Man, we've done so much together. We made it to the NHL together. We got high and drunk together. We even got arrested together! And it's all over. What went wrong? Whatever it was, could it be fixed? But after tossing myself on the bed for a couple of hours, my drunken ass finally goes to sleep.
I think it was all the beers I drank earlier, or all that weed we smoked back at Eden Hall. We don't do that stuff anymore--we have jobs to keep--but I think it's catching up with me because, after a few minutes, I'm on this beach next to a big ocean. It's cloudy and the scene is all dark blue. From the beach I can see Portman, the Portman of My Dreams, shirtless and wearing these tight-ass jeans, coming out of the water and pulling this huge rope, which just went back into the water. As he did this, a woman's voice from out of scene whispered,
Show him everything....