I don't know if shocked was the word I wanted or not, I was definitely surprised to see him apparently watching my reflection. He looked away and then stepped a bit out of view before quickly returning. I finished pulling the pants up and sliding my slippers on and then headed for the door. He was waiting just beyond the door and his face was in beautiful relief as I stepped into the hallway with the lighted candle and a blanket under my arm.
"I thought you were going to meet me downstairs?" I asked in a way that I hope wasn't too leading.
"I'm." He stopped. "I am frightened of the dark, Mast... Quinn."
"Oh," I said, my disappointment apparent in my ears. "Well, downstairs then and we'll set up on the couch for warmth." I said. He nodded and followed. To find he was afraid of the dark and not watching me was something of a let down. But I was confused more than I had been before, why was I so concerned with what Drew saw of or in me? I knew I liked him, he was quiet and he was a nice guy despite his rough beginnings. As we descended the stairs it occurred to me that he trusted me. He had answered all my questions in an honest, straightforward tone instead of trying to hide or downplay or mislead me. Surely that required a degree of trust or liking at the least?
We stepped back into the sitting room and the fire had waned to small flames and bright embers. I shivered and climbed under the blanket. Drew expertly stoked the fire and strategically placed wood to revive the blaze. Ok, how strategically can you place wood? Well, I suppose it's a matter of opinion, but I thought he took his time to consider where it would burn best. Am I reading too much into this?
Anyway, he climbed on the other end of the couch and sat on top of the blanket looking at the flames. He shivered once and I decided he wasn't going to get under the blanket of his own accord, so I began pulling it up from under him. He scooted obligingly, as if he expected me to take the blanket from him. I then threw it back over him, head and all. He pulled the blanket down slowly and eyed me questioningly. I looked as innocent as I could muster.
"Well, your making me cold just watching you shiver." I stated, striving for matter of fact and failing miserably.
"Want me to be warm, do you?" He asked with a devilish grin. I nodded uncertainly and suddenly felt his ice cold feet on my own warm ones!
"Aah, cold!" I pulled my feet back but his resolutely marched across the couch until tucked into the hollow behind my knees, where I bent my legs and trapped the offending feet. He just laughed, but left his feet tucked for warmth. It must have looked awkward, my knees pointing towards the fire and he stretched to extend his feet into the back of my legs. It was really quite comfortable though.
"So you go to a private school?" He asked.
"Yes, it's a bore. There's a lot of folks around here with money, and too few brain cells to match."
"Why do you go there then?"
"Because my parents are snobs, and it's expected I should go there. They really think we're different from other people. Last time I checked I stink as badly as anyone else after exercising, so I'm not too different." I grunted.
"Have you ever asked them about going to public school then?" He asked.
"Me? Are you kidding? I'd get eaten alive, and probably beat on all the time. You see this town is sharply divided in more ways than one. The tourist season is big here, so the only folks that live here either own a vacation home, own one of the hotel-casino's or ski venues, or they work in those places. And honestly, those places don't pay much. So there is some unhappiness and dischord between the have's and the have not's. I'm afraid I wouldn't be liked very well."
"I like you." Drew said and I blushed.
"I like you as well." I replied.
"So if we can see past such things, why can't others?"
"Maybe we're different? I don't know. The dynamic was here before I was born, and it's repeated all across the planet. I guess it's just the way it is."
"Then how will it be for us? Are we going to be friends? Or will I go home after the storm and not speak with you again?" Drew asked. "They're two different things, Drew. One is changing us, one is changing the world." I said, trying to be practical.
"So you're changing to spend time with me, and what am I changing? And if you find it worth your time to spend time with me, then who else are you missing out on?" Drew asked. Jeez, talk about deep questions.
"I guess you're changing your idea of rich people, at least I hope you don't think we're all snobs. And as far as spending time with anyone else, I just don't know. Some people just click with you right away, others never do."
"So I click for you?"
"Well, yeah."
"How?"
"Anyone ever tell you that you ask a lot of questions?" I asked him.
"Yes. But you haven't answered me. I just want to know why you asked me here. I know what Greta said is bullshit because we sure as hell didn't hit it off this morning, I was terrified at least!" He said.
"Yeah, why were you so jumpy anyway?" I asked with intense curiosity and more than a little pleased to change the subject.
"Well, when I saw you with Greta at the bus stop I thought you were a neighborhood kid, and you just clicked for me too I guess. So I asked her questions. I never thought about the Master stuff because she has always been oh so proper, not like my mom. So I asked questions and she told me to stay away from you, that if things went bad she could lose her job. And that would be bad, of course."
"She worries too much."
"So are you going to tell me how?" He asked.
"Tell you how what?" I replied, playing dense.
"Tell me how I click for you."
"Oh, well, that's a difficult question."
"Why?"
"Well, it's kind of hard to explain." I said hedging.
"Try."
"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" I said with a smile.
"My feet aren't up that high, yet!" He laughed.
I felt his foot moving up the back of my thigh and I reached around to grab his foot, now warm and pulled him under the blanket.
"Hey! Don't tickle!" He said in a voice that betrayed his vulnerability to tickling, rather than a real desire for me to break contact. So I tickled the bottom of his foot. He twisted violently and I had to use two hands to maintain my grip on the ankle, and as soon as he began to calm I began again, and again he'd squirm. He sat up suddenly and threw the blanket over my head in the process. I was in the dark! Then the little shit started in on my kneecaps, a very sensitive spot for me by the way, something that wasn't lost on him in the least! I squirmed myself and finally off the couch we went with a crash, the two of us no more than a tangle of arms and legs with a blanket twisting about us. Within moments of our hitting the ground we were battling for position and trying to get the other at a disadvantage. We howled with laughter like this house had never heard before, the very walls the only observers to this testament that the classes were much closer than anyone thought.
Drew was stronger than I and so I was eventually defeated and pinned to the floor, face up and almost spread-eagle, with him on top of me forcing my arms to stay out and my legs to remain splayed.
"So try." He said between ragged gasps for breath.
"Try what?" I said, a million possibilities racing through my mind!
"Try to tell me how I click for you." He said exasperatedly.
"Oh." I said, and heaved tremendously catching him off guard and tumbling him off me, which was both relief and disappointment. He lay on the floor, propped by his elbows with a crooked smile that melted me to the spot. He folded his arms behind his head and sighed deeply.
"Are we going to sleep down here?" He asked.
"Um, I don't know. I have never slept anywhere but a bed, floors aren't for sleeping on!" I said, too late seeing my mental blunder as he felt himself reduced in my eyes.
"Drew, I didn't mean."
" I know what you meant." He said distractedly, "But there's two things you should remember here."
I nodded at him to continue.
"One is I never had the things you do. A bed of my own to sleep in is a new luxury for me, one I've never had. And two is that we do things differently, so try to have an open mind!" He finished with a touch of anger.
"Drew I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you mad." I said quietly.
"I know, but haven't you ever slept at someone else's house before?" He asked
I shook my head no.
"Never?" He asked, eyes wide.
"No. Why? What's the big deal?" I asked defensively.
"Nothing, I just thought you would have done anything I could do a hundred times. My... My friend Kody and I used to stay at his house a lot when he was still with his mom. We used to share the bed in his room, or we'd sleep on the floor in front of the TV. We'd go to bed when we'd get tired of the Playstation at like three in the morning!"
"Really? The floor can't be comfortable." I said doubtfully.
"Well, when you stay over you stay up late, you're not there to sleep early or anything. Your there to visit and have fun with your friends!" He said.
"Oh, well, I guess this is kind of a sleepover then, huh?" I smiled, pleased to be doing something normal even if it hadn't been planned.
"Yup!" He grinned.
"So, um, how about I make some hot chocolate and you get the fire going again?"
"Sounds good." He said and turned to his task. I headed for the kitchen reflecting on how much I was learning from him. Sleeping over was something normal people did, and for once I was going to be normal! I hummed as I moved through the kitchen, candle on the table. I lit the burner on the stove and began to heat the milk slowly. I was really struck with wonder at Drew, he had little in worldly possessions, but he had a wealth of personality and when he smiled my insides just went to jello. I have never had that feeling, I think the closest was a test I wasn't sure I'd pass and the butterflies in my stomach before the test were pretty bad, but this was on another scale. He had my palms sweating for crying out loud! The phone rang to shake me from my reverie.
"Anderson Residence." I answered.
"Master Quinn, are you quite all right?" Greta's voice came through the phone, although not very clearly.
"Yes, Miss Greta. We're fine. What news?" I asked.
"Well the roads are all closed, naturally the mountains get it the worst, but with it being a long holiday and you two there by yourselves and barely knowing one another, I was more than a little concerned. He's not troubling you is he?" I looked up at the window that showed a few dents in the snow where we had battled earlier, although it was quickly becoming obscured.
"No, he's no trouble at all. In fact I love having him here, we had a snowball fight and he's pretty smart you know. He got a good fire going in the sitting room and he's very interesting to talk to. He can come over any time." I said
"Well, who'd have thought this would happen? The prince and the pauper!" She exclaimed.
"He's no pauper in my eyes, Miss Greta." I replied.
"Well then, I will call in the morning, assuming the phone lines are working. There's milk in the refrigerator, which you'll want to put out in the cooler on the back porch to keep it cold. There are eggs, which again you'll want to keep cool, you can eat those for breakfast."
"I don't know how to cook!" I told Miss. Greta.
"Well then Drew will take care of you, because he does." She said, and after a few more instructions and admonishments, she rung off.
"Let me guess, put the eggs and milk outside to keep cool, and anything else that might spoil?" He stated as he began removing the contents to be placed on the porch.
"Um, yeah. How'd you know?"
"Well, it's colder outside, so you put your stuff that might go bad out there to try and keep it fresh." He said matter-of-factly.
"I know that, but how did you know it was Greta and what she would say?" I asked.
"Oh, well I could hear you say Miss. Greta at one point, so I figured she was handing out instructions, one thing she's good at." He said with a knowing smirk.
"How much conversation did you hear?" I asked suspiciously.
"Not much. I swear." He said, grinning again. I think he's lying.
After placing the perishables on the enclosed back porch we were once again ensconsed on the couch. We sat and watched the fire as it crackled and popped, the embers glowed off and on light airport landing strip lights. Drew set his drained cup on the floor next to the leg of the couch and snuggled into the corner of the couch, the blanket firmly about him. I was once again drawn to his features as the light of the fire danced across his delicate face. I thought about all that those eyes had seen, all that this person next to me had endured. I felt a stab of anger and sorrow for him, and alternately felt embarrassed at my own good fortune in life. Why is it some people must suffer so much and others seem to glide through life? I thought of all the things that had ever caused me stress, the things I had worried about and realized how small they really were in comparison. While I had been worried about a test, he had no bed of his own to sleep in, nay not even a bed at all, just a couch or a hallway outside the apartment complex. What kind of a mother did that to her child? The same kind that spends all their time away from their child in the south of France I guess. My mother was no better at my emotional needs as a child, maybe that's why I didn't understand my feelings for Drew, maybe that's why I just couldn't make heads or tails of it. And honestly speaking the chances of receiving that from her now, or my father for that matter were quite slim. I looked at Drew very carefully then, memorizing his face that was highlighted by the firelight, I could see the flames dance off his eyes making their copper coloring shine and dance like a new penny.
"What?" He asked, noticing my gaze. "Do I have a booger hanging from my nose or something?" He asked while dramatically wiping his nose with his forearm. I laughed.
"No, I was just wondering something." I said carefully.
"What's that?" He asked.
"Do you... Am, do you miss you mom?" I asked hoping I wasn't being too intrusive, but definitely feeling as though I was in unfamiliar territory.
"Sometimes." He said matter-of-factly. "She wasn't a bad person really, but she was really weak and not made to be a parent."
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"Well, see we lived in a pretty bad area of Chicago. There was a lot of drugs around and some folks, well, it just seems like they get hooked and then they just want to forget that this drug controls them, and they want to forget the world and all that they are responsible for. Didn't Greta tell you how my mom died."
"Smoking, she got Cancer." I said.
"Wow, she told you that? She smoked, yeah, but she smoked crack. She overdosed in the living room, and then she choked on her own vomit." He said with moisture shimmering in his eyes. "What a classy way to go, huh? Just like Janis Joplin or Jimi Hendrix, just like the big names. Don't go out in a purple haze, more like a drug induced fog." He said before returning his eyes to the fire.
Nice going, Quinn. Let's just ask some more hurtful questions. I remained silent on the couch with my guilt for bringing the issue up, and in the end all I could manage was a very weak `sorry' for having brought all that up.
"S'ok." He said, "I really hadn't thought about her since it happened. I had no one to talk to about it. Kody always said that talking about things was a way to get the poison out, a way to deal with it." He turned to look at me, "But I didn't have anybody to share and talk to about any of this when it happened. Greta is nice, but I can't talk to her, she's so aware of her `place' in society and Kody was already gone to the group home so he wasn't accessible to me very much. This sis the first time anyone asked me what I thought, or how I felt."
"I guess Kody was a pretty good friend, huh?" I asked trying to change the subject.
"Now who's full of questions?" He smirked.
"Well, I had hoped to find out some more about you a bit more gracefully, but since I'm caught out..." I trailed shrugging my shoulders and giving him a small smile.
"Kody was... He was my best friend in the world. His dad was molesting him for a long time and when child protective finally moved in on that and locked him up, his mother moved in the house to take care of him. But his mom couldn't take care of him, he was doing all the cooking and cleaning and being the adult. She was just partying and sleeping around all over the place. I think she did it for money, but I can't be sure. Kody was the sweetest most gentle guy you ever met though." A tear trickled down his cheek. "Once when I got sick from sleeping in the hallway one night in the winter, cause someone had broken the window in the hall so it wasn't heated, he brought me to his house for like three days and took care of me. He used his food money for medicine for me. He was true blue, my best bud and I miss him more than I do my mom. How fucked up is that?" He asked of the fire. Tears were slowly trickling down his cheeks, like crystal droplets. I pulled him to me and tucked him in between my legs, his back to my chest and held him as he shook softly. I stoked his fine hair and tried to be worthy of this beautiful person. I knew I was emotionally constipated, I could find no words of comfort to give, nothing I could think of to say didn't sound trite and completely contrived to me, and so I kept my traitorous mouth shut and held his weeping form. I couldn't help but marvel at his fine hair, how it flowed between my fingers like liquid and the soft texture of this beautiful person. I felt shamed at once for being the cause of bringing up pain to him, but I couldn't seem to stop my gentle caress of his hair and making some attempt to sooth him. He pushed back and nestled into me as his tears began to disappate.
"So, so you miss your parents? I know they aren't dead, but you said they are almost never here." He said.
"I really don't know. They have never been a big part of my day to day life. They provide this house, they have the staff take care of my basic needs, but human contact with them has never been an issue. It's hard to make it an issue when it never happens. I think the last time I saw my parents at the same time was three years ago when they showed up at the same time, but I think it was an accident. They disagreed bitterly about something and she left for France thenext day. I haven't seen her since that day, and my father has stopped in once, about six months ago to sign some documents that had to be done here in person for some legal reason. Any medical or legal issues I have are handled by a guardian, Mr. Oberdorfer from Los Angeles. So I don't really live or anything, I just go from one day to the next and wait for...nothing I guess."
"Don't you have any friends?" Drew asked.
"No, not really." I replied.
He turned to face me, still laying against me.
"You have to be kidding me!" He said in a shocked tone.
"No, why?"
"Nobody?"
"Well there's a few fellows from school, we eat together but outside of school they live very active lives and have no time for socialization. Most of us never see one another outside the school, and if we do it is rigidly timed and supervised. It's called a play date."
"A play date?" Drew goggled.
"Yes, I know it sounds silly and it is. You don't play at anything, you sit and talk about school, which is what we do when were eating lunch in the lounge, so it really isn't anything special."
Drew sat up on his knees and resting his behind on his feet. "So you asking me to dinner tonight was really kind of out of the ordinary for you , wasn't it?" He asked seriously.
"Well, yes. It was totally spur-of-the-moment." I admitted.
"So we've come back to clicking again?" He asked.
"I guess so." I said warily.
"So... why do I click for you?" He asked.
"I don't know, Drew." I sighed. "I don't know how to express these things very well, I have never really discussed my internal workings or thought processes with anyone before."
"I see. Have you ever been in love before, do you think?" He asked.
I shrugged my shoulders. He seemed to fall silent into some internal discussion, I decided to break the train of thought and do what was becoming second nature with him. I changed the subject.
"So what else do normal people do when they stay overnight at someone else's house?" I asked.
"Well..." He answered slowly as he was extricated form his thoughts, "We play a kind of picture guessing game."
"How do you play? " I asked.
"Well, one person draws on the others back with their finger, and the other person tries to figure out what the picture is."
I thought for a moment, for one I would get to see Drew with his shirt off and for two I would get to actually touch him with him being willing. I decided this was a game I wanted to play! So I asked to try it.He nodded and crossed his forearms one over the other and grabbed the bottom of his shirt and began lifting it over his head. I was completely entranced by this sight, his torso stretched as the arms scissors to remove the shirt from a chest that showed definition but not overly done. His chest was smooth, save for a few light hairs that stood out slightly with the change in temperature. He looked down on me and told me my shirt was supposed to be off too, so I sat up and removed my shirt as he had his. He instructed me to lay on my stomach and he straddled my backside, sitting squarely on my rump, which was altogether pleasing me. I felt his finger start tracing on my back, on the left side to long, curving lines that extended from my waist line to the top of my left shoulder blade. At the top of the shoulder blade he places two fingers together and made them separate and come together in several small off shoots that began at the first touches terminus. In my mind I saw a palm tree stretching up the side of my back. My next addition to the scene was unexpected but so pleasureable I gasped forcibly as I felt his brath then his warm mouth touch down on my lower back, his mouth opened and the wet warmth was like a fire onmy back, and then his tongue snaked down and bathed the whole area with a n incredibly good feeling the likes of which I had never known before. My mental picture was shattered to say the least.
"Did you figure it out?" He asked.
"What?" I asked, completely dazed.
"The picture, goof ball, did you figure it?" He asked again. I thought very hard and tried to deal factually instead of lingering on the incredible feel of his mouth.
"Well, there was a tree I think, a palm tree." I began.
"Go on." He said.
"Well, then there was the thing there with your mouth, that was, um, water?" I asked.
"Now put it all together." He encouraged.
"A tree growing next to water, like..." I hesitated then rolled over to look at him. "Like an oasis?" I asked.
"You're pretty good at this." He said shyly.
"Drew, have you ever been in love do you think?" I asked.
"Yes, twice now I think." He said blushing a bit.
"Have you ever kissed someone?" I asked again.
"Are you sure you never had a sleepover?" He asked, "Cause this is the kind of stuff you talk about!" He giggled. I looked at him firmly and waited for an answer.
"Yes, once." He nodded. "Have you?" He asked.
"No, never. Do you think you could, you know, show me how it's done?" I asked, risking everything in one toss of the dice.
"I'm no expert." He said, blushing but leaning in to me and lowering his head to me and then it happened so fast it was almost like it came from heaven itself, the goddamn TV came to life and Nigel Hawthorne playing the part of King George the 3rd bellowed from the speaker.
"I am not the man you once knew sir! I am not the patient any longer and shall not bend to you, sir. Wot wot?"
I groaned internally, feeling the moment slip away. I looked deeply into Drew's copper eyes and he back into mine, and he smiled sheepishly. Much to my surprise, however, he leaned in againand the world seemed to hush, the television seemed distant and his head approached mine, and I felt the electricity of his kiss, his soft lips on mine and knew that I was in love, and I knew that I was in love with Drew.