It would take a while to adequately summarize the events of the next year and a half of my life.
I returned home on October 23 to an eerily empty, but inviting house. I appreciated my parents more, after all the time spent away from them. Throughout the cooling months that closed 2009, I made slow, cautious motions to share with my family the little secret I'd kept hidden. Of course, I never told them about Trent, or about Cody. There are some things, straight or gay, that one mustn't share with their parents. As children grow, they need to make amends with the fact that their mother and their father surely had sex to produce them, unless by chance they were the product of in-vitro fertilization, in which case there's no doubt their parents had sex even more frequently before ultimately putting their conception in the dutiful hand of science. As for me, growing up with so many siblings left me with the constant reminder that my parents must have had quite the appetite, and possibly a latex allergy.
It's not something I want to think about.
Now that all the Khosla kids are seventeen or older, Mom and Dad will soon need to, in their turn, come to terms with the fact that their offspring are fornicating, and like we've done for years before, willfully ignore the implication. With three of us married and one with children, it becomes increasingly improbable to deny that we've had sexual exploits of our own.
Of course, this is not my parents business. The fact that my genitals have not and likely will not come in contact with a female form is implicit, but unspoken. Although my activities in the bedroom are far beyond the need-to-know basis of my family, I would prefer to not surprise them by sending them wedding invitations with a male name on it in a decade or so, adding a hastily scribbled note inside: "I sort of forgot to mention something."
And thus I decided to tell my family about my sexual preference, and it was met with varying results. And I know it couldn't have been taken too horribly, because I still received Christmas presents that year.
The last week of October and the first week of November were vaguely excruciating, as I needed to scramble to get a handle on the previous two months of missed work, both curricular and extra-curricular. I am not one to stress or worry, but I can't help but feel annoyed that what was meant to be a simple summer engagement managed to mess up my senior year.
Firstly, there was that big history paper that we had to do piece by piece over the course of the entire year. I managed to email the outline to my teacher, but I never got the draft of part A done, which was a huge pain to sort out because the deadline fell about four days before the finale, when I had a lot of, shall we say, other topics on my mind. Then there was the group science projects, that we hadn't really started yet, but we picked the groups. Thank god, my friend Jenna reserved a spot in her trio for fourth-wheel Noah. And then of course, don't even get me started on the student council stuff I missed. They'd already decided on the prom theme without my input, which was a major annoyance because I put a lot of hours into that council and like half the people on it are complete morons. They probably chose 'swamp theme' or something!
Ugh, but I digress. I promise.
Needless to say, I'd been busy for the month or so following my return to school, between all the homework and the whole patching up the tattered remnants of my social life thing.
Then one day in November, after Remembrance Day but before snowfall, if I recall correctly, I was leafing through a stack of paper. It was all my random junk from right after I got back from school, like a mocking fan-letter made by a group of grade 10s and a few photocopies of earlier quizzes I nabbed off of my friends. I was looking for my chemistry prof's email, or something like that, when a sheet of paper slipped from the stack through which I was flipping. It sailed through the air, landing precariously on top of my pile of shoes. On one side, it appeared to be the instructions for lighting operations on a sound stage. As soon as I stood up to retrieve it, the image flashed through my mind of exactly what was written on the other side.
I stared at the crinkled paper for an instant, examining the squiggly lettering. I'd forgotten to email Cody, I thought to myself, hadn't I? Well, not exactly. I knew it was something I had to do sooner or later, but I kept putting it off – Over and over, I tried to avoid the distracting temptation, at least until I cleared away the backlog of missing two months of twelfth grade. From time to time, I felt this tiny desire to speak to him, just to assure myself that things could always be the same even though we were apart now.
But then, another bit of my mind told me I'd never get to experience that again, at least, not with him. So I guess perhaps I avoided facing the awkwardness. Still, I could have at least added him on Facebook. What kind of asshole doesn't add someone they consider a friend on Facebook for two months, just because they 'forget'?
"I should get on that." I said out loud.
But it was still awhile before I ever did. Exactly one time during the next two weeks, I typed his name into the search bar and saw his name and photo. His profile pic was taken by webcam, and he wore a headset. I had to snicker at how 'cool' he looked. I'm going to claim that the reason I didn't add him then was because I immediately got a friend request from someone else at that very moment but in all likelihood, it had a lot more with me being a wishy-washy bitch.
It was specifically on the 1st of December – a Tuesday I think – I stopped being a little bitch and added him on Facebook, because I already have like 540 friends, and I'm also a moron.
In the personal message, I wrote 'hi'. But then I added a smiley face. Not a winking one, though.
Nothing about the conversations we had during the next few weeks was anywhere near as awkward as I'd expected. In fact, maybe it was even less awkward than I'd hoped. We never said anything mushy or odd. In fact, we never talked about 'that facet' of our relationship. We talked about normal stuff for two close friends spread across long distances.
Sometimes, I'd talk about the people at school. He'd write 'lol' every time I'd say anything. Other times, he'd talk about the people he knows from school. He was surprisingly absent in most of his stories, more of a bystander than a participant. Sometimes, I really didn't want to hear about Tyler Hawco and Mitch Ferguson almost died in a car crash at five AM after drinking. But even if I typed 'gtg', I'd be back eventually. He was a part completely separate from the rest of my life, and I welcomed his intrusion with zeal. Or as much zeal as someone like me can feel.
Then other times we'd talk about video games and stuff. We kind of formed a MMPORG alliance together. It made me happy, actually, that our favorite shared activity was something sedentary and internet-friendly and not, say, Ultimate Frisbee.
Cody Jameson 21:20
Sup
Noah Khosla 21:20
What's with the name change?
Cody Jameson 21:21
Some creepers keep adding me on Facebook and I don't know them. I guess they were people who saw me on TV.
Cody Jameson 21:21
I think that one of them had like 3 separate profiles that all added me. So I changed my name to stealth mode.
Noah Khosla 21:22
Don't you think if they were a legit stalker that the first think they'd search for if your old name went awol is your middle name
Cody Jameson 21:22
Shit. U can only change your name like twice a year too soooo I guess I'm stuck like this.
Noah Khosla 21:22
At least you didn't go with like ThunderRod PersnicketyTrousers
Cody Jameson 21:23
There are so many things I'd do before I'd go with that.
Noah Khosla 21:23
Chris MacLean
Cody Jameson 21:23
Absolutely not.
Noah Khosla 21:24
Gwendolyn Blaczyk!
Cody Jameson 21:24
Umm actually its gwenivere. TOLD.
Noah Khosla 21:24
Yes, cody, I was definitely told. How embarrassing that I didn't know Gwen's full name, what, with all the seven or eight times I talked to her in my life.
Over the Christmas break, I did manage to peel myself away from the computer for decent hunks of times. It was my first time seeing my brothers and sisters all together in God knows how long. Since the previous Christmas, I guess. Huh, I guess God does know the last time, since it's his birthday/his son's birthday. Wait a second, if Jesus is just the human form of the holy spirit, does he even have a birthday?
Whatever, I get presents. Happy birthday, Holy Dude.
Noah Khosla 14:14
Merry xmas ho
Cody Jameson 14:14
Don't u mean HO HO HO!
Noah Khosla 14:17
….
Cody Jameson 14:17
FU :P
Cody Jameson 14:17
Dude guess what!
Noah Khosla 14:17
Your stalker sent you a Christmas gift?
Cody Jameson 14:17
I don't have a stalker atm, the name change actually worked.
Cody Jameson 14:17
ANYWAY GUESS WHAT.
LEFT 4 DEAD 2
REMEMBER HOW WE PLAYED THE FIRST ONE AT THE PLAYA
Noah Khosla 14:18
Ye
Cody Jameson 14:18
Show a little spirit, noah, IT'S CHRISTMAS FOR CHRIST SAKES. So yea I love l4d2!
Noah Khosla 14:19
Yeah it's really….
Noah Khosla 14:19
LIKE SUPER FUN! No, like, it's actually great (: people were bitching hardcore about it after E3 but it seems good to me.
Cody Jameson 14:20
I like Nick 'cause he reminds me of you. because he's sarcastic and an asshole.
Noah Khosla 14:20
What an incredibly backhanded compliment….
And thus it continued when 2009 became 2010, and longer still. I didn't speak to him daily, but we gave one another at least once-or-twice-weekly updates on our lives. As senior year trucked on and my workload because irritating to say the least, Cody became a welcome distraction from the stresses of life. All my 'real' friends are in class with me and share the same burdens as I do. Nothing new really happens to them that I'm not immediately aware of. And although Cody was never full of surprises, we'd always meet up for Sunday evening online raids before the next week of school began.
One frigid Thursday in January, class managed to be cancelled both here and in Nova Scotia. Cody was freaking out because it meant his second semester would be bumped to start a day later. I had to chuckle because it's not often he expresses that degree of caring about school work.
Once I managed to soothe him with an oh-so-funny cat video that had been making its rounds on Youtube, he said to me, and I quote, "oh speaking of Youtube, go subscribe to 'DramaBrosTC'".
So I did.
Cody Jameson 19:11
Server's not working for me, same with you?
Noah Khosla 19:11
Yep, it's down. It's been like that awhile… Guess we'll hold off our plundering til next week ):
Cody Jameson 19:11
Agh I rejected dates with hawt chix for this!
Noah Khosla 19:12
I'm flattered.
Noah Khosla 19:12
Wait. Really?
Cody Jameson 19:12
Nope, I'm trying to break my Solo Valentine's Day record.
Noah Khosla 19:13
Aw fack. It's Valentines.
Cody Jameson 19:13
Yeppp and it didn't go so great for me, like, the internet makes it seem like I have a zillion fans but I guess none of them come from around here.
Noah Khosla 19:13
Damn shame. Oh well, at least I still like you (:
Cody Jameson 19:14
…really?
Noah Khosla 19:14
Um yea, why else would I put up with your daily bullshit. You haven't put out in months tho :P
Cody Jameson 19:16
Omg Im sorry if I come across really spazzy right now but I've been waiting to hear you say that for like, months, when I first got home I thought I could just forget you and go back to like normal life and you know, for a while I started to have interest in this one girl I used to like before all this drama stuff happened but then that first time you went on microphone with me and I heard your voice, I swear I almost died. I don't know why but I like you A LOT. A LOT. And even though I'd love to have a date, being able to talk to you on valentine's day is like the best valentines thing I ever got, even more than my gran getting me a giant chocolate heart with smarties inside.
Noah Khosla 19:18
Wow.
Cody Jameson is now offline. Messages will be delivered to their inbox.
Noah Khosla 19:20
Dunno why you signed off so fast, maybe you were embarrassed. Don't be. I like you too. I thought of you a lot this past little while. IDK if we have any kind of future because we live so far apart but I want you to know you're really great even though you're a bit of a dweeb. Ya okay you're right this is really awkward but at least we're kinda on the same page now. Happy Valentines Cody *heart symbol*
Cody Jameson 22:01
…same *heart symbol*
Thursday is the day that the debate club meets up, so I'm a bit late getting home. I took the car this morning. The snow is almost entirely melted. Jagged piles of muddy ice crystals in parking lots are the only remaining symbol of winter. Spring is 'official' at this point in the year, at least as long as you live in the south of Canada and not, like, Yukon.
I have my iPod hooked into the adapter cable, blasting some tunes on the drive home. Actually I'm not blasting them, they're at a moderate volume because excessive sound interferes with my ability to drive. But as far as distractions go, sometimes I just get annoyed by the squalor of the floor carpet, which usually coincides with every time my brother Mark takes it for a day. Filthy carpet also interferes with my ability to drive.
The song switches on my iPod, and as much as I hate to admit it, it's a number from a little band called the Drama Brothers. This is a Drama Brothers original song called "Chips Down". I think Trent wrote the lyrics, and I don't know what it's about, but it's one of the ones Cody sings in, so I had to keep it on hand.
His voice is youthful and a bit cracked, yet strangely beautiful. I was never much for the singing, myself. Singing is a bit too homosexual of a hobby even for me. Okay, maybe that isn't true, either, and to be fair, I really like the movie Rent, despite the fact that all the characters are hopeless, drug-addled assholes who somehow think they're above corporatism. Even if I tried to sing, I couldn't sing like Cody. On the rare occasion I've allowed music to flow through these thin, sneering lips, it has come out as a deep, tuneless warble. I guess I'll keep to clarinet.
I feel like such a hipster saying that I like the Drama Brothers' music – in fact, I reach a whole new level of hipsterdom because not only did I know their music before it got big, but I knew their music before the band existed. I have a couple tunes from the earliest days of their Youtube Channel, started just a few weeks after Total Drama was over. Sometimes they have this floppy-haired blond dude named Brett on percussion, too. He's actually pretty hot, which I find hilarious.
They decided to do this thing called 'Green Week' where they uploaded a shitload of Green Day covers, that was pretty cute. They sang this song called 'One for the Razorbacks' and dedicated it to Gwen. They didn't dedicate one to me, but there was one called 'Coming Clean' that wasn't dedicated to anyone. And the title made me wonder.
I guess it makes sense now.
I pull into my driveway just after Trent's last chord echoes into silence. I have a huge-ass project to finish tonight that I'm not looking forward to. I go inside the house, scarf some fish and salad my mother made for supper, and immediately headed to my room.
I won't turn on Facebook til I'm done, I tell myself. Pee breaks and Dr. Pepper breaks and that's it.
Books stacked on my lap, fingers on the keys. I need to type the last section, then the conclusion. Then do the bibliography and footnotes and citation. All the pages from which I drew information are flagged with post-it notes, making quick work of citation.
Bibliography. I have an internet source. I open up Firefox and I don't click Facebook. Don't. Click. Facebook.
I copy the URL. I'm coming along. It's getting late. No stress. I'll be done before midnight.
My phone starts to buzz. Jesus. I said no social networking til I'm done my paper but I think a phone call is exempt from my constraints. I pick it up.
"Hi."
"Hey Noah!"
It's my friend Molly. "What do you want, I kind of have a paper. So do…you."
"Haha, well that's the thing, remember how I said I'd be done before midnight? I did it! GO ME!"
"Oh, congrats. I'm actually on the bibliography. So it won't be long." I say as I absently type out a publishing year.
"Yeah, I would have been done even sooner if my Dad didn't copy an important file onto a flash drive and then pretend it got 'deleted' off my desktop."
"That seems like a dick move, why did he do that?" I drone
"I dunno," she says, chuckling, "I guess my Dad really likes pranking people on April Fools."
After Molly says this, I stay silent for a second.
"Did you phone die…?" I hear faintly from the other line.
"Oh, God help me. It's April Fools."
"Yes, didn't you know that? It's not the most popular holiday but some people really love taking the opportunity to play jokes on people. But I think trying to fool someone on a day that is made for fooling people makes it a bit harder to get people to believe you, don't you think?"
"Oh shit. You know what, Molly, I'm very close to finished with this paper, glad you're done, um, yeah, I got to go. See you tomorrow."
"Are you coming to the thing on Saturday?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Bye. Um, sorry to cut it short." I say briefly. I don't actually know what 'thing' she was referring to. There's only one 'thing' on my mind and that's 'Oh shit, it's April 1st. It's Cody's 17th birthday, and I forgot entirely.' And I have to finish this paper. And I have to make good on my decision not to go on Facebook.
So I just keep typing, most of my mind focused on my essay, another fragment rattling around ideas about 'what can I say to Cody on his birthday'?
He isn't exactly my significant other, but he's close enough to one that I feel obligated to perform some sort of kind gesture towards him. In fact, I don't only feel obligated, by gently encouraged as well. I actually want to make him feel good on his birthday. But I don't know how.
Listen to me, I'm such a sap.
So close to finished. I need to do my title page. I notice I already had 'April 1, 2010. ' written on the page. I somehow managed to write it out without thinking deeply about it. I also managed to listen to Cody sing today without remembering. It actually makes me feel kind of shitty after how much he went through seven months ago on my birthday to make me happy. I mean, a birthday is just an anniversary of the day your Mom's womb decided it couldn't hold in a human any longer, but it has attained such cultural significance that it's a downright offense to forget a close friend's birthday.
I can't take him on an adventure or buy him a cake. I can't reread this paper for errors right now, either. I think I'll stop. I'll stop, and look at it again before bed.
I finally click on 'Facebook'. Nothing interesting has appeared on my newsfeed, except the extremely blatant 'Courtney Vega and 9 other friends wrote on Cody Jameson's wall'
I go onto his profile and just stare at the text box. He wouldn't actually get mad if I left him a simple 'happy birthday dude', but I think I can do better than that.
I need to remember to send an electronic copy of my essay to my teacher since this one isn't getting sent away.
Hm.
A thought just came to me, of something I could offer him. It wouldn't be tangible, and it wouldn't be on his actual birthday, and it won't see immediate results, but I can try. At least I could give him good news for his birthday.
So with a sigh, I type, 'Happy birthday Dude (:' on his Facebook wall, minimize the screen, and get back to proofreading.
The next afternoon, upon getting home from class, I find both of my parents relaxing in their bedroom. This is exactly the set-up I'd hoped for. I'm not scared of my parents. The worst thing they can say is 'no', and in that case, no harm done.
I slip into their room. "Hey."
"Hi, how was your day? How did you do on your paper?"
Why do parents always ask how you did on a test or paper the day it was due? How are you supposed to know? I verbalize my thoughts: "I don't know, Mom, I handed it in literally four hours ago. Anyway, I have a question. Well, more of a request."
"What is it?"
"I know that a house that formerly housed nine kids can seem pretty empty when they are all grown and gone, and we have a lot of extra space…What I'm trying to say is, I have this friend, right? From Nova Scotia. I met him on Total Drama and I was wondering if maybe sometime during the summer he could come stay with us. I mean it's only April, but I'm planning this really far in advance, you know, so I don't spring it on you, because I know how much you hate it when one of us springs something on you."
"Did you hear any of that, Paul?" my Mother says, turning to my dad with a nudge.
He briskly folds up the magazine he holds. "Yeah, yep. You want to have a friend stay over? Well I guess if his parents can trust him to live away from home for three months, we can trust him in our home."
"I feel like I shouldn't say yes so quickly, but I'm tempted to say yes." She pauses for a moment. "I think, come July, we'll have 5 kids home? Yes, five. Plenty of room for a sixth."
"Wait, he isn't the one that gave the deer a nougie, is he?"
I shake my head.
"In that case, it's a yes."
I clench my fists, victorious. "Excellent! Can I tell him now?"
In a move non-habitual to me, I search for Cody's name in my cell phone contacts and hit dial. I'd rather deliver my message with my voice instead of my fingers.
A digital voice speaks: 'Long distance charges will apply!'
I hear the dial tone buzz as I wait for him to answer. My heart shudders a little. Even though we speak online quite frequently, and our status as 'more than friends' is at least alluded to instead of outright ignored, I'm still a little nervous calling him on the phone, simply because it's unusual to me.
This crush business is such bullshit. I'm a confident, even-tempered individual, and I'm reduced to a rickety doe when Cody becomes the topic. At least, compared to my usual demeanor.
He answers on the fifth ring, thankfully. His voice is somehow light and childish over the phone.
"Hello?"
"Um…hey."
"Hello…?" He replies, in a tone that indicates more of a 'who's this' than a friendly hello.
"Hey Cody. Sorry that I didn't get to you on your birthday, I was pretty busy."
"Oh, Noah! What's up? I didn't know it was you."
"How could you forget a voice like this?" I drone, purposefully making my voice more nasal.
"Hey…it's not like you to call. What's up?"
"How was your birthday? Get anything nice?" I ask him, nonchalant.
"Eh…" his voice shifts. "Nah…it was…okay."
"Hope is was as good as mine was, I guess. Anyway, Cody. There's a reason I called."
"Yeah?"
"Well," I take a breath, "Do you have any plans in the summer?"
"Well, me and Trent decided we'd head into Ontario in August and do a short Drama Brothers tour! I'm pretty pumped. We got signed by these guys, it seems ever since Harold and Justin joined, we're more popular than ever! They'll be groupies and catering and bright lights…"
"Haha," I weakly laugh, "Well, I have…a proposition for you."
"Yes?" he says expectantly.
I take a breath. "Come visit me in July. Come to my place, stay in my sister's old room, hang out with me around town, you know. Take a trip. I – despite all the horrors I had to witness last summer, I had a good time. With you, especially. I want to have you around for a while."
Silence for a moment. "I'll ask my parents when they get home."
"When will that be?"
"…Sunday. I'm going to say yes already. I know they'll let me."
"Send a message on Facebook with details, alright?"
He's silent for another moment. He resumes, a bit high-pitched and crackled. "I'm looking forward to it. I miss you."
I smile and whisper. "Me too. Oh, and one more thing…Since when are Justin and Harold in your band?"
"Since just recently. They found our Youtube and said we needed more sex appeal!"
"You took Harold's advice on sex appeal? Oh Lord. What about Brett Caruthers?"
"They said he wasn't famous enough."
"Harsh."
I can't decide who to take to the prom and it's already May. This is pretty devastating.
Sorry, I just went into crazy teen bitch mode. The honest truth is, I've been truly enamoured with Cody the past few months, and it's gotten to the point where particularly romantic passages in our English readings make me think of him from time to time. It's also gotten to the point where I've imagined some dreadfully atrocious romantic moments between us, playing in my head like a bad Anime music video. All this time, I neglected to look at the reality that I need a date to the prom.
I have it narrowed down, but I haven't asked anybody. I'm basically weighing the pros and cons of asking Chantal Moors, Veronica Welsh, or Harrison Wilkes. To be honest, I'm kind of pre-emptively crossing Harrison Wilkes off my list. He's handsome, curly-haired, six-foot-five, and probably taken. I'm leaning towards taking a girl, for the sake of normalcy. If I actually had a boyfriend, I would not be averse to taking a boy, but since I'm going to pair with someone that is not a romantic partner to me, just a 'business partner', I don't need the unnecessary hassle of taking another dude.
Besides, the rhythm of dress-suit-dress-suit should not be disrupted without reason.
Chantal Moors is a wavy-haired artist in my English class. We talk, I guess, we've hung out. We're not best friends.
Veronica Welsh is raven-haired and determined, to the point of almost being abrasive. We only met last year but we get along finely with our sarcastic attitudes.
I decide to ask Cody and send pictures of my choices (Harrison included) to him. He tells me that Chantal's personality with Veronica's looks would be like the second most awesome girl he could imagine.
I don't bother enquiring about the first. I decide that I'll ask Veronica when I see her in school tomorrow.
Wednesday, I have last class with Veronica and I expect to ask her then. But for some reason, during our weekly student council meeting, treasurer Stephanie Wyatt approaches me timidly and makes a move. I always considered her too soft-spoken to be an effective council member, but she had a firm grasp on finances, so I guess she's worth her salt. When she makes her request, her mouth is tight and eyebrows arched, but her gaze is set on me. I'd never given her much of a thought, but fixated on a few freckles of her pointed nose, something told me I should say yes.
She'd probably look a lot nicer in a voluminous prom gown than Harrison would, anyway.
Cody Jameson 16:41
What's up?
Noah Khosla 16:42
Nm, graduating tomorrow, no big deal right.
Cody Jameson 16:42
I forgot you were in grade twelve! Holy shit dude, congrats.
Noah Khosla 16:42
Yep somehow despite missing a whole month of school I still made honours with distinction. Not valedictorian though - but Valedictorians never have the good social life. Salutorians are the real winners.
Cody Jameson 16:43
Summer 2010 shouttt
Noah Khosla 16:43
Newly graduated and not stuck in reality show torture camp? It already sounds like a good summer to me (:
The afternoon of prom night was the first time I'd ever set foot in Stephanie's house. When I passed through the door, a hunched figure in a puffy sky-blue gown stood with its back facing me. As she made a slow pirouette in my direction, she straightened up and her timid, thin lips formed into a smile. Her smile seemed brighter and her lips fuller with the glittery rose colour applied to them.
She was always someone who cared more about her work than her fashion sense, but with crystalline gems adorning her bodice, from neckline to hip, she definitely drew attention. And I was certainly pleased that I'd be able to stand beside her – even though a suit and tie could never be so radiant.
A woman in formal wear can make me nearly lapse into being straight for an instant.
With other friends, we crowded in the park for photos. My smile split my face so wildly that for once in my life, my eyebrows didn't arch at all.
And for the shortest moment that night, during the slow song, I wished that I could be holding Cody close to me as we stepped side to side in an awkward facsimile of a dance. But then, a fragile hand with cerulean nails held placed itself on my shoulder, and I felt as though things are ideal just as they are. I'm finishing high school – and I'd rather share the bittersweet glory of graduation with my fellow graduates. Cody will know about this next year. And he'll know about me in a month's time.
The following evening was a huge lawn party that most of the grads were in on.
The less said of that, the better.
On Thursday, the graduation ceremony happened. I don't look good in hats, especially not square ones with tassels. My head looked massive. But I guess my head felt pretty massive, too, because you can't deliver a speech at graduation without feeling a tiny bit arrogant.
Perhaps beyond the short moments captured on television, my adolescence was normal, but I'll be damned if I wasn't ecstatic for the entire span of those three days. As happy as I'd ever been.
When my eyes open on July 22, I spend the first few seconds staring at the wall in my room. The next few seconds I spend building up a kind of gentle excitement, mulling over the events that will happen today.
I didn't bother eating anything from the moment I got up until the moment my shuddering hands unlocked my car and I sat behind the steering wheel. I turn the key in the ignition and blast the air conditioning. My iPod and my Drama Brothers playlist will go unplayed for the duration of this drive.
It takes a good forty minutes to get to the airport from my house. My Mom had asked me if I wanted her to drive me instead of going myself. But I told her no – I'd rather her meet Cody for the first time in my own house.
I roll around the parking lot absent-mindedly for several minutes, searching for a parking spot. Every possible place in which you could jam a car has a paid metre beside it. No use being stingy, I suppose –I park up front and shove a few quarters into the metre. Seventy-five cents should be enough, I think. A loonie seems like too big of an investment for a parking space.
The airport terminal isn't crowded despite the plethora of travellers therein. The ceilings are high and transparent and the building is so wide you can scarcely see from one end to the other. I stand beside the main baggage carousel. I figure it's the most likely place to find my guest. Maybe I should have brought a sign with his last name scrawled in sharpie.
I watch the conveyor feed into a hole in the wall, where the unclaimed baggage enters the void only to come around for a second go. Most of the bags are black and bulky, but a few are more vibrant hues or even animal print. A wise traveler wouldn't use those bland black bags, not if they didn't want to wait around a carousel for hours.
"'Scuse me." I hear, as an arm juts into my personal space to grab a suitcase. I nudge away from the interloper before turning to look at him.
"Hey." Cody quavers, once he recognizes me. His hair is a little shorter and he may have even grown a centimetre or two, but he's still unmistakeably him, gap and all.
"Welcome to…my great province, I guess! You hungry? We've got a bit of a drive before we get home…"
"That was honestly the weirdest hamburger I ever had."
"I know, right? I used to go to that shop a lot when I was younger. The turkey burger with the cranberry sauce is my fave. Very unexpected." I reply.
I've never driven in a car with Cody as my passenger until today, and I have to say I'm pleased by comfy I feel. I usually never get to be the driver when my friends go out and about, because I get pissed when people let M&Ms and French fries tumble to the clean carpeted floor. They call me a hard-ass. Well I'm sorry if I don't like finding dead junebugs in my car.
"Where I'm from, the closest thing we have to that is The Snow Queen. I used to go when I was a kid. They serve ice cream and hot dogs and stuff like that. They have bumper boats and a batting cage. Everything is dusty as hell and the bumper boat water is about the same colour as a swamp." He laughs.
"Yeah, sometimes when you have great childhood memories of something, it's best you never try it again after age 14 or so. The grown-up perspective really kills the illusion." I take a left. We're on my street.
"But nonetheless," I continue, "There are a few places I'll take you anyway. I've lived here for like ten years. I like to think I know a thing or two about the town's best features."
"Sounds epic."
We roll into my driveway. I put the car in park, shut off the air conditioning, and pull out the keys. "So," I begin, "When we enter that house, you will be meeting my parents and possibly anywhere from one to three of my siblings. Keep your guard up."
"Are they sarcastic like you?"
"No way."
Cody pauses, examining my face for a moment. "Was that sarcasm?"
I scoff. "I'll help with your bags. You can stay in Sarah's old room. She's literally like 30 now so I don't know why we even call it 'her room.'"
As expected, the instant we set foot in the living room, my mother creeps around the corner. "Hi, Cody. Welcome to our home!"
She smiles with a warmth even beyond motherly – it's the grandmother smile reserved for the wives, husbands, and children of my eldest siblings. Oh Christ.
"Mah, I didn't even introduce you yet."
"Noah, do you seriously think I sent my baby off to a reality show and never watched a single episode? I know all about Cody! He seems like a great kid. I'm glad you brought him home and not that green-haired boy or something like that."
"'Brought him home'. Gee, thanks Mom, that doesn't set up expectations or anything." I chide. I lift Cody's suitcase off the floor again. "The guest room, right? And is anyone going to be home tonight?"
"Gabriel has work, but Rebecca and Michael are still here."
"Alright." I call behind me as I climb the stairs.
The room in which Cody is to stay is nearly as bland on one side as our hotel rooms in Total Drama Action. The walls are painted white and the bedspread is floral. No teenager chooses floral bedspread on their own accord. The closet is jammed with old toys and trinkets from our childhood. When such a large number of children have grown up in the same household, a lot of random junk gets collected over the years.
"Sorry about the ugly-ass quilt." I say to Cody as he takes a seat on the bed.
"No biggie." He replies with a smile, "The mattress is soft, and that's the most important thing for me. Besides, my bed back home still has the same threadbare Spongebob Squarepants sheets on them that I've had since I was nine."
I snicker. "How does that not surprise me?"
"So, I think it's really cool that I get to meet your family. It must be awesome to have so many siblings. I have none."
"I dunno, it's like back on the island. I love some of 'em and the others I'm just lukewarm on. Not that they're bad, just, we aren't close."
"Still, it must be nice to not be alone all the time."
"My parents would probably burst into tears if they heard you say that, since after this summer they'll officially be empty-nesters. I couldn't imagine still raising kids after 30 years. When I move out, they're probably going to take a nap that lasts until January."
"Speaking of napping 'til January…" he says, as he curls his socked feet up onto the bed.
Cute.
It's past nine but the light of the sun still bleeds across the entire sky, leaving the bruised purple colour to the east freckled with stars. I'm perched on the top tower of a playground set with Cody.
"This place was built a little different when I was younger," I say, "More wood. This was before someone decided children are too mentally retarded to play with anything that isn't made of fun foam."
"I think I could find a way to hurt myself with fun foam." He mumbles, squiggling closer to me on the top of the platform.
"I used to hide in this top tower, with the castle roof every time I'd get tired of running around. Which was often. I'd read."
"There's no roof anymore."
"They probably took it down because kids were climbing on it."
"But now there's nothing above the railings. You could just jump off."
"You can never keep everyone safe from everything, I guess."
To my surprise, he squashes in even nearer to me. A tilt of the head and he'd be resting on my shoulder. "You've had an interesting life." He groans.
"Not interesting," I rationalize, "Just well-narrated."
I look down at him and he's just staring at me through those big ol' lidded eyes. Under the watchful gaze of strangers and my parents all day, I never allowed myself to be too intimate, but now we're alone. Perched on playground equipment.
My palm pressed into the platform, I let my fingers crawl over his and I lean in for a kiss. It's the first kiss we've shared since October. Our pressed lips feel as dry as our hands.
"What the hell are we doing?" I say, as we pull apart.
"I don't know. Whether or not we started doing…" he gestures at his face, then mine, "'this' again, I knew I needed to see you. Nobody used to pay attention to me, and you're my friend, and that makes me happy. Being around you."
I don't want to ask, because I fear the answer. "Do you like me? Like," - I repeat the same gestures he'd just made- "This?"
"I know it feels good and I know I'm happy. I never loved a boy, but I'm not sure I couldn't."
"What do you mean?" I ask.
He finally leans into my shoulder. "I dunno."
He sighs deeply and rubs his face against the shoulder of my shirt for a moment. "One time, you told me your sexuality story. Wanna hear mine?"
I nod, inquisitive. "Yeah, why not?"
He breathes briskly through his teeth. "Okay. So it began the normal way. I liked girls. A lot of girls. Always had a different crush all through elementary."
"So I've heard."
"And then when I got older…" he scrunches up his nose. "I dunno dude, I don't think I wanna talk about it anymore."
"Hey," I interject, "I've told you what gets my rocks off. What's the worst you could tell me? You're even gayer than I am?"
He chuckles. "Well when it really started, I got a little fascination with like…" his voice gets tiny. "Like, shemales, or traps. Or whatever you wanna call them. But I heard that wasn't all that weird. I mean, they're still girls when you get right down to it, right? Girls with dicks, but girls."
"Yeah, it's not all that unusual…" I muse. "I hear straight guys are into that sometimes. It was scribbled somewhere in the thin margin of things I know about straight guys."
"I never really had to think about it 'til you came."
I gingerly put an arm around his waist. "You don't need to like every man ever, as long as you like me. I mean, I know you're not gay. That's patently, blatantly obvious. You're goth-sexual, if anything."
A short snicker escapes him. "I didn't tell you the messed up part though."
My heart sinks a little. Surely, I don't consider Cody to be some kind of faultless angel; a modern virgin Mary. But at the same time, I am a bit wary of learning of darker sides to him.
"So," he starts, "Every so often, I would think of Gwen."
"I think you can drop the 'every so' from that phrase." I say, rolling my eyes.
He grimaces. "You know what I mean. Think of Gwen. Anyway, sometimes I'd wish I could…" his voice goes low again, something he does often when he needs to say something scandalous "Just…fuck her. But sometimes, in my mind, I wasn't the one doing it."
My mouth opens slightly. "Well, you have my attention."
"Sometimes I'd wish I could just be her. Have a guy take me. Shit, this is weird, I shouldn't say this."
My eyebrows raise. I don't know what to say to that.
"I told you it was messed up."
I put a hand against the side of his head to lower it beside me again. "Really, as long as you're willing to kiss my annoying face, I don't even care what else happens in your mind."
The sky isn't a sanguine violet-red anymore. It's a purple-black with faded stars, their brightness eaten away by the oozing city lights illuminating the sky.
A little smile forms on his lips. I have to kiss it away.
The days Cody spends in my home meld together into a singular haze. Every morning, I roll out of bed at nine-something and head downstairs, read the paper or boil a pot of water for coffee or tea, and wait for him to, in his turn, roll out of bed. He usually sleeps 'til 10:30 or 11 if I don't wake him. Baring showers and bathroom breaks, these are the only moments I spend alone throughout the day.
As soon as he's out of bed, we're joined together for the remainder of the day, staying up til 1 or so watching movies or playing video games, before going our seperate ways, snoozing, and waking again for another round.
We rarely make any unusual physical contact in front of my Mom or Dad - or at all throughout the day – but sometimes when darkness comes and we struggle to keep our eyes through to the end of a rented DVD, we find ourselves draped over one another on the sofa.
Once, and only once, did we find ourselves coming to our senses with the rising of the Sun, with an unfamiliar blanket covering us that hadn't been there when we fell asleep. Not a word came from my parents or siblings about it, so I suppose no one cares.
A highlight of my week is bringing Cody on a day trip to an amusement park. It's only a two-hour-drive, and I bring some school friends along. They get along well with him, particularly Eddy who is, in all honesty, an annoying knob who doubles as a close friend. Kind of like Izzy with a touch of Harold. Apparently there's only like one amusement park in Nova Scotia, and it's further away from Cody's hometown than this one is from me.
Some of my friends sort of suppose that Cody and I are a couple, but I make no official statement on the topic.
The truth is, we definitely felt like a couple this week. I never had that experience of sharing every moment of my life with someone. Sure, I have friends, but a lot of them pair off – Andrew and Molly are dating, Jenna and Molly were friends before I even moved here, Eddy, Stephanie, Joey, Austin, Veronica, even Owen and Izzy, they all hang out with me sometimes, but they all have another 'clan' they spend more time with. I'm not used to being anyone's number one.
And I think Cody isn't used to it either.
On the 26th, my more-athletic-than-me older brothers insist I 'take my buddy to see the mountain'. The 'mountain' in question is a place my family used to hike when I was younger. The older siblings loved it, because most of them were longer-limbed and more athletic.
I'd always trail in the back with Michael because we're more the artist type than the mountaineer type.
But Cody jumps on the opportunity to go, so I'm essentially required to go. And the honest truth is that as long as you share the misery of physical exertion with someone near and dear, it's not quite so miserable after all. At least, not mentally. Returning home, however, leaves me with jelly where ligaments once were, and Cody and I are in bed by eleven.
Something possesses him tonight, though. I'm not sure if it's demons or what, but he slips into my room after I fall asleep. His pulling the blanket off my sleeping figure is enough to rouse me, but I'm not sure what he says or how he explains himself. I only know he slides into bed beside me.
We share a bed every night following that one.
My mother still says nothing of it. Maybe it's because she gave up on regulating her children once she got the first six or seven successfully raised to adulthood.
That Friday turns out to be a real scorcher. We go swimming. I have good memories of the swimming pool because of Cody – my attitude to the activity changed drastically over this past year.
I'm still up past midnight, blow-drying my hair in the basement. I know that's a bizarre place to blow-dry one's hair, but if I were to do it in the upstairs washroom, the whirring of the hot fan would probably wake my family and drive them nuts. I don't want to deal with cranky relatives.
Cody is leaving on Sunday. Tomorrow is our last day together. This time, I don't mentally add 'maybe forever', because every time I see Cody everywhere, I get possessed to say it could be the last time. For once, I like to believe it isn't the last time.
Only the last for a while. Maybe serendipitous occasions could draw us together once more.
I go upstairs into my bedroom and he's lying there placidly, hair still crunchy and chlorinated because he couldn't be bothered to wash it. I creep towards the bed, toss my towel into the hamper, and crawl under the covers.
"It's like 32 degrees in here," he grumbles, near the edge of conking out. "You aren't wearing a shirt."
"What a coincidence, it's like 32 degrees here too. Who'd have thought areas separated by a full ten centimetres could have such similar temperatures."
He snickers, eyes still glued shut. He rolls onto his side. As I wiggle in behind him, my chest makes light contact with his back.
"Skin. That feels…nice." He shivers.
I scoff a little and wrap an arm around him. I plant one kiss behind his ear, and shut my eyes. He isn't wearing a shirt, either, the little hypocrite.
His feet are restless, rustling together and disturbing the sheets. He clenches his shoulders.
"Jeez, if you find it that warm we can take off the comforter, if you want. It isn't much of a comforter if it's uncomforting."
"S'okay." He whimpers, squirming onto his back. My arms still wrap around his waist. "But stop breathing on me."
"Newsflash, I kind of need to breathe if I want to wake up among the living. Just go back to Sarah's room."
A momentary silence occurs.
"Your skin is giving me a massive hard-on."
"What the fuck, Cody."
He turns his face to me in the darkness, lips drawn tight. "I'm not used to this much contact."
"Or maybe your veins are dilating from the heat."
"That's definitely it."
I laugh a little, mostly because it's better than trying to act like I'm not feeling similar things. But as soon as my chuckling stops, his mouth is on me, and I'm definitely okay with that.
He's jamming his tongue in my mouth in a fairly amateurish way, but it excites me nonetheless. He yanks on my arms until I'm partially on top of him.
"I'm gone after tomorrow." He breathes between kisses.
"Is that insinuating anything? Naughty!"
"Stop it, dude, I wanna know what it's like!"
"Well, when you put it that way…"
I prop myself onto my arms so as to stop crushing his chest cavity. I allow my lips to drag away from his mouth, onto his neck, face, shoulders… I slide my fingertips faintly against his ribs. His skin is radiating heat. Back to his adam's apple I go with my lips, leaving my breath in hot puffs against his throat. The surface of my chest keeps grazing against his every time I make a move. He produces an airless groan from his throat.
"Put it…against mine…I wanna feel it against me."
"It?" I tease ,"Your what?"
"My…" his voice is nearly silent, "Dick…"
I laugh again. That's good enough for me.
"How do you do it, with a guy? Am I supposed to like…put it…like where?"
"If that's your tactful way of asking if I'm interested in 'sodomy' or whathaveyou, more commonly known as doing it in the butt,I'm going to have to decline."
"Really? How…how do you do it then?"
"I dunno, man, I'm of the belief if you have to live your life asking yourself every day, 'do I wanna shit today? Or do I wanna have sex?' and you have to pick only one, you're gonna have a bad time."
"Ew, God, don't make me think of that."
"There are such better things to think about."
We both remain a bit timid towards the idea of touching anything below the belt, but the kissing continues as boldly and unabashed as ever. He kisses my stomach – and I guess I'm officially not embarrassed by the hirsute nature of Indian boys like me, since apparently two straight-ish guys were willing to plant their lips there.
He puts me in his mouth and to not mince words, he pretty much gives me the ultimate cheese grater blowjob. You would think a boy would know better than a girl how to properly execute what a man wants, but perhaps Cody never got the memo. Nonetheless, the simple feeling of his tongue on my most sensitive zones is a bit exhilarating, and I never got my foreskin jammed between his massive tooth gap, so I have that going for me, at the absolute minimum.
I motion for him to come back and kiss me. I'm sure that the world would love to know how the rest of our encounter played out – how we shook the earth, but honestly, our hands did most of the work.
But that's good enough for me. I got to feel him shudder and twitch as he finished into the horribly humid gap between our overheated, sweaty chests, and for what it lacked in pristineness, it made up for in romanticism. I kissed him even harder, and I thanked God that I left my towel in my room hamper instead of having to make the trek to the washroom or even needing to shame a dirty sock.
I pull my underwear on the instant I leave the bed. "Rule number one, please do not look at my ass."
"I like asses."
"You like girls' asses."
He shrugs. I know I'm right. We snicker again. I toss him the towel and he sponges himself down. I collapse onto the mattress beside him, pulling the blankets back over my shoulders and wrapping him in my embrace.
"You're so hot…" he mumbles, after a moment.
"Um… thanks?"
"No I mean, I'm literally melting. Can you take off the comforter after all?"
I have to take him to the airport on the morning of August 1st.
And I didn't feel that sad, for once. We put in a good run. I take him to the gate. He stares me down, posture disjointed.
I shake my head and hold out a hand. His expression twists in confusion as he clasps my hand in a feeble handshake.
"I like to believe," I state simply, "That this isn't the last time."
He makes a tight-lipped. He turns to the gate, and throws a gaze over his shoulders one more time.
I should have asked for a signed copy of the Drama Bros CD.
I had my 18th birthday this week. That was pretty crazy. Actually, funny enough, I did indeed get the Drama Brothers CD sent in the mail. It's absolute trash. But what can you do? Fangirls demand, Drama Boys deliver.
You know what else was pretty crazy? I got an email from Chris MacLean. It offered me a role as his personal assistant during a certain engagement. I was like, bull shit, no way am I doing this. I'm eighteen years old and I'm in fucking college. I'm through with your crap, Chris.
But I never sent that. I replied far more diplomatically.
Then Chris, or perhaps a representative of his, replied again. They said it would only be for a few weeks during the Christmas break. I'd get a free trip to the states and everything. I'd get paid, too.
It's the only time I've ever gotten a legitimate promise of money from anything related to Chris MacLean.
I reread the message at least ten times, making sure there are no strange stipulations regarding my chance to get paid. Not a stipulation in sight.
I click 'reply'.
"Thank you for the consideration. I am interested."
It's only a few hours before I get more details.
No matter how much I feel like I can accomplish outside of Total Drama, I don't think this show will ever leave me alone.
That moment when you re-read older chapters of your own story and actually enjoy them. That's a satisfying feeling. But as for this chapter? So, so done. No more, plz.
You may have noticed that I never explicitly said where Noah lives. Frankly, I can't decide. (But honestly it's probably Ontario. It's not atlantic Canada, and it's not a territory, and I sort of implied it isn't excessively far from Muskoka. So it almost has to be Ontario.)
Anyway this chapter was HARD to write. I nibbled on it for a good two months. Actually, I started it on AUGUST 29, right after I completed my most recent chapter that I wound up not posting til 9 September. So if you're reading this and it's still November, give me a round of applause for keeping my promise :P
I might make a short spinoff about Cody's adventures visiting Noah, but I didn't wanna go too far with it here.
I'm adding random shit to my author's comments because I'm just a hair's breadth away from a 10000-word chapter! I NEVER THOUGHT THIS WOULD HAPPEN. I'D LIKE TO THANK NOAH'S MOM, CHRIS MCLEAN, CODY'S DICK, CODY'S TEETH, ALL NOAH'S HIGH SCHOOL FRIENDS, AND MARK ZUCKERBERG.
And of course all you readers out there.
I really don't know where I'm going with this right now, all I know is I like the sexy scene because it isn't really that sexy…and that there will definitely be no updates until December 10th at least. Hopefully I can put up a Christmas Eve chapter in memoriam of this story's 1-year-anniversary on . Can't believe it's been so long….
Next time…world tour and celebrity manhunt….