DYLAN!
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Of course, the Moms weren't ready to go to dinner, so Chubby and I waited for them on the front steps, smoking our second cigarette of the day, or was it our third? In a little while, the moms came outside, we got into the Volvo station wagon, and Chubby drove us to the restaurant with the Moms acting tense the whole way. They don't trust our driving yet, but they will soon enough. I'll be driving home. The Moms work at the restaurant we're going to, so they know all the waitresses.
The waitress who took our drink orders was Cid; she brought the mom's straight-up Manhattans. Chub and I had strange-looking drinks that Cid set in front of us, saying, "And for the boys, here are your Shirley Temples."
Chubby muttered, "What the fu..?" and Tris said, "Language, Jeffrey!" I sipped my drink and mumbled, "Hey, this is good, Chub!" The three women were chuckling, so this was all set up for a laugh. Chubby grinned and drank half of the sweet concoction that tasted suspiciously like cherry Coke with a maraschino cherry.
The food wasn't as good as Ken's Steak House, but it was pretty good. We had some laughs with the waitress, Cid, who was a part-time school teacher, too. She was telling us things her young second and third-grade kids said. The two stories I remember are: Cid asked her second grader, Glenn, how he spells 'crocodile', and he goes 'K R O K O D I A L.' She said, "No, that's wrong." Glenn said, "It might be wrong, but you asked me how I spelled it." The other one was Cid asked her third grader, Maria, to go to the world map and find North America. Maria goes up and points at it, and Cid, the teacher, says, "That's correct. Okay, class, all together now, who discovered America?" and they say in unison, "Maria."
There were others that seemed funnier than they actually were, with Chubby doing his contagious laugh; Cid told the stories in a funny way, too. I drove us home super fine after dinner, and it had been a good time out with the moms, which is something we should try to do more often. It was getting late, so both Chubby and I went to bed shortly after getting home because we had work tomorrow. I lay in bed feeling good that I was part of our joint family. Later, it was the same old thing: trying to think about how I was going to tell Willie I was cheating on him. He deserves a lot better after all the things he's done for me, all the places he's taken me, and the presents he's bought me.
Then I thought about Robby and knew I'd need to tell him about my cheating, too. This has been a great weekend, and yet I'm in a depressed mood because of the cheating troubles I've brought on myself. Then, wait a second! I didn't go out looking for two boyfriends. I didn't go out looking for a boyfriend at all. Willie and Robby found me; I didn't find them. Well, I may have found Robby, I guess, and I didn't fight Willie off. Oh, hell, it's probably mostly my fault. If only they both weren't so perfect, if only I didn't love them both, and if only I didn't actually love, love, love doing sex with them... if only.
My alarm woke me, and I felt apprehensive because this is the last full week of my summer job before school starts, a week from this Wednesday. I still have that problem of what to do about my two boyfriends. Still, it is kind of nerve-wracking that the first day of my senior year of high school is almost here. That takes precedence over my boyfriend's problem, and is what I'm thinking about walking through the locker room at Dicker's Landscaping and Design, exchanging friendly insults with the college guys, and saying good morning and high-fiving guys on the crew.
It's been so much more fun coming to work with no Joel to worry about. Starting next week, after school, I'll be meeting a whole new group of guys as a bag boy at Super Stop and Shop. I put Chubby's name on the bag boy waiting list, but there were a lot of names ahead of his, so for the time being, he'll stick with the window washer job after school and on Saturdays. Plus, Saturday nights meetings, as they've been having all summer. I do not want to think about Chubby and Ricky right now, and I do not want to think about tomorrow's confession to Willie, either.
No, instead, I want to think about Robby, who I should be seeing any second now. Ah yes! There he is at my locker with my coffee and his big smiling eyes that make me feel like the most important person in the world. He looks so glad to see me. I shout, "Yo, stud, what are you smiling about?" Robby looked down and shrugged. It's hard to believe he's the same boy who showed such leadership and confidence at baseball practice yesterday. After all we've been through together, he still acts like I'm a big deal, and he isn't. Jeez, he's a much bigger deal than me.
Next to his ear, I murmured, "You are the cutest guy I've ever seen in my life. You make me sweat," and I mussed his soft and silky hair. He stood still, allowing me to do what I wanted with him. I could feel my dick getting hard, so I sat on the bench in front of my locker, puffing in a few long breaths, and then sipping my coffee. Robby sat beside me, and said, "I get all squirmy when I see you, Dylan. You're like my idol or something, and I'm not too proud to admit that." Without even looking around to see if anyone could see us, he leaned close to my face and licked across my lips with his saliva-soaked tongue.
I gasped and grabbed my hard cock to adjust it from its uncomfortable position of pushing out my cargo short's zipper. "Damn, you're hot, Robby, but can't you look around first to see if anyone is watching?" Robby took my head between his hands, and with me trying to pull away, he licked up from my chin, across my lips, and right up the front of my nose, leaving behind a wet trail of spit. Oh my God, one second, he's shy and the next he's doing this kind of sexy aggressiveness.
Gulping, I inhaled his spit, then coughed when a speck got in my windpipe. Robby patted my back hard and said, "You taste good! Dodger said you and Chubby were at baseball practice yesterday. I wish you guys stayed around till practice was over." After patting my back, he left his arm around my shoulders and leaned against me firmly, pushing at his lap. It was awkward, but that fact didn't appear to register with Robby. Clearing my throat and shrugging my shoulders, I explained how Chubby and I didn't want to interrupt his practice. I told him he was very cool running the show, which made him blush again, and mumble, "I've always been pretty good on a baseball diamond, so I feel really comfortable there."
Thinking to myself, 'I guess so,' he adds, "Can we go in the back locker room and do a quick make-out now?" I was happy to get out of this cuddling position in the middle of the locker room, so I quickly nodded, "Great idea!" I stood up to readjust my boner sideways, hoping it wouldn't show as much that way. Robby's boner was poking undisturbed straight out the front of his pants. He looked at me, his mouth slightly open, panting, and with a longing in his beautiful blue eyes that had me doing some panting myself.
On the way, he said, "Wasn't our date Saturday night the best date ever, Dylan? Have you ever been on a date as cool as ours? I dreamed about it last night. Guess what? I'm getting as bad as my brother with the jerking off. You know, from thinking about you." I mumbled, "Wha...?"
We were in the way-back locker section by now, and instead of responding to his comments, I got my arms around his neck and made out with him the way Willie taught me to make out. Robby's and my boners dueled as we kissed, licked, and sucked on each other's tongue, and face, and lips.... and, oh God! Go good!
Picking up from where we left off Sunday morning, our make-out quickly became very intense. This time I got so close to climaxing in my pants that I had to stop making out and rest my face side by side with Robby's as we swayed together, cheek to cheek, hugging and grinding our crotches together. I was desperately trying to catch my breath and, at the same time, allow my nuts to relax their sperm-making chores; whoa!
This room has no air conditioning, and our sweat just added to the erotic feeling. We were just about to start again when the five-minute work warning tone sounded loud, and we slowly let go of one another and took a step apart. My face felt red and hot, and Robby's looked red and hot, which made him even sexier looking than normal, sweat on his upper lip, some dripping at his temples, beading sweat on his forehead near his hairline. My knees felt weak from gawking at him; what a hot picture he makes. I reluctantly nodded toward the door and Robby did the slightest grin at me, then we walked out into the refreshingly air-conditioned main locker room.
Already in his Dickers Landscaping and Design outfit, Robby followed me to my locker to watch while I changed. For some reason, we were both quiet now, just grinning a bit at each other. We're totally relaxed together now, and didn't feel the need to talk all the time. I could still smell the spit in my nose from Robby's early lick. His saliva has a refreshingly cool smell as if he'd been chewing Wriggle's Spearmint gum before our make-out.
Robby said, "I, er, we only have a couple minutes before work, but I need to tell you something. Confess something to you, Dylan." I was dressed by now and stood, holding my coffee, curious, "Confess? What is it?"
He takes a deep breath, then mumbles, "Don't hate me. It's just that I had such a crush on you for weeks and weeks. I didn't know what to do. Um, anyway, it's stupid and dumb, and I hate myself for doing it. Ah, you know."
Nodding encouragingly, "Know what, Robby?" He blurts out, "It was me who put that stuff in your locker at the beginning of the summer before you got a lock for it."
Shocked that this was coming up now, two months after the fact, and I'm super-shocked it was him. I mutter, "You...? It was you?."
He looked away and whined, "I wanted you to notice me. You were always goofing around with the college boys. I thought you'd never, um; anyway, I was fucked-up in my head, and I did it, and I'm so sorry, Dylan. Say you forgive me."
I drank some coffee, trying to think how I felt about it, and decided it was no big deal after all the other stuff that's happened since then. I said, "Of course, I forgive you, but that was some nasty stuff. That condom and all."
Naturally, he's blushing a dark red, and sweat broke out on his forehead again, air conditioning or not. He looked down like he does frequently and swallowed hard, then mumbled, "You said you forgive me, so is it okay if we never bring it up again?"
Thinking about maybe confessing to him about Willie this Wednesday, I quickly added, "Oh sure, you bet, dude. I mean, bring what up?" We did a quick hug, and the side of his face rubbed mine. It not only looked red and hot, it felt hot as well. He'd blushed the darkest red I've ever seen. I said, "It's forgotten forever. I'm no angel either, you know!"
The workday flew by. I did think about Robby putting that nasty shit in my locker; the 'queer' signs and the condom with cum in it and all. Strangely,
I wasn't mad at him, though; basically, I'm shocked he was that nasty, and then I felt bad for what his state of mind must have been back then, him trying to get attention while being a closeted gay and feeling all alone, hoping upon hope I was gay, too. I know that feeling, so I know it had
to be very stressful for him, and as a consequence, he'd made bad choices. As I said, I can relate to some of those feelings because my gayness was buried in my subconscious mind until very recently.
Well, I know some of the longings and desires in the past myself; I just didn't recognize them as gay. It's always amazing to discover what people are capable of when they feel they have nothing to lose, and that feeling of desperation takes over. Sure, it's hard to believe that sweet and innocent Robby would put that shit in my locker, and even harder to believe he'd put Joel's life in danger, but he's guilty on both counts. He's a dangerous motherfucker if you're on the wrong side of him. Haha, for real.
No, not really. I don't pretend to know what to make of it, so I'll just be grateful it all turned out so well and leave it at that. At the end of the workday, Robby and I only had a quick make-out due to time constraints. We were excited about the Wednesday night barbecue coming up, and he had something he had to do for that. He told me he had been trying to formulate ways for him and me to be alone again. "If none of my plans work, you may need to do me in the pickup truck, Dylan. Is that okay?"
I told him, of course, it's okay. I'm beginning to ease up on my worry about the consequences of confessing Willie to Robby. My sexual exploits with Willie might not be a big enough deal to piss Robby off; he just might forgive me anything. At least, that's the impression I've been getting from him. It doesn't hurt that he felt the need to confess that locker stuff to me today, either.
Monday, after work, Chubby missed the first hour of work so he and I could complete all but two hours of each of our driver training sessions with Ms. Personality- minus. We both felt comfortable behind the wheel and confident we could pass the State Trooper's driving test, too. We'd already passed the written portion. Well, actually, it's not written; we did it on their computer at the DMV, which is to say, the Department of Motor Vehicles. We'll finish up the driving portion this week, and take the driving test on Monday, two days before school starts. Then, we'll shop for a car that will be purchased under Tris' name as the owner, but driven by us boys.
Until then, when school starts, we'll be walking to school, driver's license or not, because the Moms needed the Volvo to get back and forth to work. It's exciting to be this close to our dream, though. The things we've had to go through to get this far have been, well, never mind because we're here now. Chubby and I messed around after eating dinner, and then he passed up the foot massage opportunity, so I had to think maybe he did Ricky's feet after work today. Enuf' said about that; no sense dwelling on it because there isn't anything I can do to change it right now.
Also, I was getting myself worked up to confess to Willie on our Tuesday night's date. That was taking a lot of my energy and most of my contemplating time. It kept me up half the night trying to think of the proper words to say. The only thing Willie ever asked of me, and he asked this early on, was for me to be true to him. It had to do with safe sex, but it was also a trust thing between us.
Yeah, well, he's the experienced one, and I'm positive he's participated only in 'safe' sex. After asking me to be true to him, the first outside sex I had was with Dodger, and he forced that on me in the pool that time. I had no choice, or almost none. Then, there was the mohawk man, working under a misconception, spanked the shit out of me and fucked me so hard that just thinking about that sexual experience now gives me a stiff dick. Interaction with the Marine was mostly before Willie's time, and Willie was the reason I told the Marine no more messing around with him, or words to that effect.
So, what do I confess, and how do I say it? Obviously, me fucking Robby is what I'm guilty about, mostly. I do not want to lose Willie because I seriously don't think I'll ever find anyone who fits with me so well. I'm referring to fucking here, of course, but I could easily include the way he wraps me up afterward, or the way we're the perfect size to dance together, or take a shower with, or just sleep together, and I actually mean sleeping. Willie is the perfect boyfriend for me, and yes, I definitely include his dominant side. It's just dominant enough to get my balls buzzing, but not too much to become seriously stupid like the Prep school boys.
If Robby were a hot top for me, it would be a close call who was number one: Robby or Willie. It's nuts the way you fall in love and it gets totally in
your head and all. What am I going to do if he tell me to get the fuck out of his sight? Why torture myself, though? Sleep did come eventually, and then it was Tuesday morning, and nothing went right from the minute I got up.
I bumbled around trying to get ready for work, almost missed my bus, forgot money to pay for the bus, and had to borrow it from the black hospital orderly kid. Then, I never even got my bus ride boner. Getting off the bus, I caught my shorts on a screw and ripped the pocket, which made me mumbled, "Fuck!" and when I looked up, there was a nun waiting to get on the bus. We both looked away. Damn, what a morning.
At work, I couldn't concentrate on my make-out with Robby and finally had to lie to him, saying I wasn't feeling well; I had an upset stomach. That wasn't a total lie because I was sick to my stomach with worry.
Telling Robby that I've been fucking my brains out with others, whenever I get the chance, while telling my sex partner I love him, and... it's awful! Plus, I need to tell Willie the same thing: that I love someone else, too, and that someone else loves me. Getting goofily ridiculous, I thought of saying to Willie, "Who knows how many boys I can have sex with and fall in love with simultaneously; a world record, perhaps."
Oh, man, I'm a promiscuous whore, a slut, a two-timing cheating bastard. That's how my entire day went. After work, my hands were shaking, and my heart was pounding, and I'd worked myself into a frenzy. As I was leaving, Robby hugged me and whispered, "Get better, Dylan, please. Tomorrow is our Wednesday barbecue day, remember? And you know what else we want to do, right?"
I smiled a little smile for him, and said, "Absolutely," and his father called him for their ride home. Willie will be waiting at the bus station. All my planning went for naught because I couldn't remember any of the words I wanted to say to him about my cheating. I was like a convict being led to the gallows or something.
By now, maybe I'll be losing Willie, but I was hopeful I'd still have Robby. Half the time, I told myself that there wouldn't be any need to confess to Robby after Willie dumped me, but that's the coward's way out. I was determined to start fresh with a clear conscience, but first, I needed some rationalization. If the worst-case scenario happens, and I lose both boyfriends, there are gay guys in high school, and this is my first full year as a gay, so who knows what might develop, right?
My head filled up with numerous rationalizations the closer I got to Willie, but I couldn't think straight about a single one of them. I got off the bus, and there he was, sitting on the bus stop bench, grinning as he stared at me. He looked sexy. His hair was growing out and looked especially cool today. I loved that little spray of tint freckles on the bridge of his nose and I loved that little-boy look of his. That's his natural look, not a phony face he puts on. And to me, it's so beautiful when he smiles.
He isn't beautiful like Robby is beautiful, it's more like there is something about his looks that I somehow am connecting with, and he makes my heart go bump, bump, bump, and my dick starts taking on blood, and what are you gonna do? Ha, it just happens! Willie and I are right together. We worked out our differences when they popped up, although there really weren't that many of them anyway, and we really enjoyed being with each other.
Wait a second here. Exactly why do I need to lose him as my boyfriend? It isn't fair to him. It will hurt his feelings something terrible if I tell him how I've cheated on him behind his back. That may be the worst of it, me hurting him like that. I don't want to hurt him. I don't need to tell him; why should I? Where did I get this idiotic idea that I needed to confess? It'll only do harm. Nothing good will come out of it! Jesus, what was I thinking?
It'll just be bad for Willie in every way possible, and he doesn't deserve to suffer just because I've been unfaithful. He's more fragile than he
thinks, you know? He has no family involvement to speak of, so he was considering me his family, sort of. He did all kinds of sweet things for me; I can't hurt him. I won't!
Willie stood right up when I got off the bus and, with a worried look on his face, came over to me to grab each of my biceps, stopping me in my tracks, asking, "What's wrong, Dylan? You're so pale."
I said, "I've been cheating on you for a while now, Willie and I have a wicked guilty conscience about that, and I'm so sorry! Please forgive me." He said, "Wha...? What's this all about?"
I'm such a baby, I felt the tears building up behind my eyes, but I will not fucking cry! Clamping my jaws together, I made myself not cry, and then a
single goddamn tear ran down my cheek. Fuck! I inhaled a long breath through my nose. Willie put his arm around my back, mumbling, "C'mon, baby, let's go over and get in the car. You can tell me about it there."
Feeling like a six-year-old zombie, I walked across the street to Willie's car and got in. He got in the driver's side, and when his door slammed shut,
he said, "Oops, I didn't slam that on purpose; it slipped. Do you want a cigarette?" Nodding that I did, Willie fished his hard pack of Marlboro Lights
from one of the pockets of his cargo shorts and lit one up. I was thinking, well, I got it out. My confession is out there now and I can't get it back, so now I'll see what happens. I wasn't all shaken up anymore because, ironically, being with Willie calmed me down.
He took a drag, passed the cigarette to me, and quietly said, "Do you want to tell me about it? You don't have to if you don't want to." I smoked and talked while looking straight ahead. I told him about having a crush on Robby when I thought he was straight, and about Robby coming out as gay to me in the locker room, and about how it wasn't long before we were making out and having sex together. I didn't get explicit about the sex, and I didn't mention the Joel incident or the unsavory things Robby had put in my locker at the beginning of the summer.
Hmm, I also didn't tell him about Dodger fucking me in their pool or Mohawk Man because all that would do is complicate things. I wanted to keep my unfaithfulness simple, concise, and direct. It took maybe a minute to recite my cheating, and then I ended it with, "I don't want you to dump me, Willie. I love you." He patted my shoulder affectionately and said, "Jeez, Dylan, I don't know, um, ah, no one has ever confessed anything to me before. I don't want to say the wrong thing, so let me think a minute."
I mumbled, "Sure, drive around and think about it." He pulled away from the curb as my head was buzzing with thoughts, but most of them were now positive thoughts, not negative ones like I'd been having up to a moment ago. I wasn't feeling quite as down in the dumps now, either. I actually had hope for the first time that it would all work out okay; not great, but okay. Willie didn't even seem pissed off, or surprised, or anything I thought he'd be. I glanced over at him and saw that he had the tip of his pink tongue just barely out between his lips, which I know is what he does when he's concentrating.
Steering through some congested traffic on route 9, he said nothing. Then out on route 30, a two-lane road, the traffic let up and he said, "I'm trying to come up with the right thing to say, Dylan. Something that will help you to calm you down and reassure you we'll be fine, but something else keeps pushing that out of the way and demands my attention."
Wondering where he was going with that, I dropped the cigarette butt over the side of the convertible without doing any damage and quietly asked, "What's that?"
Willie says, "Don't be offended or get your feelings hurt or anything, but did you two guys have safe sex?" Oh, so that's what he's worried about. AIDS, of course. I told him it was Robby's first sex ever, so we didn't use a condom, but then, why would we since I'm safe and it's his first sex ever?
Willie believed that I believed Robby was a virgin but said he didn't know Robby as well as I did, and so, for his peace of mind, would I mind being tested? Willie said he'd get tested with me to keep me company, and he wanted to do it right now. He was referring to a blood test, of course, and this very afternoon with his personal doctor in Cambridge. Willie had been out as an active gay teen from early puberty to his doctor, who
lectured him every time he saw him on the need for safety and all that.
Relieved, I mumbled, "Sure, I don't mind," and Willie smiled at me and patted my thigh, saying, "Thanks, baby! I'm paranoid about that stuff." In my head, I'm wondering, that's all there is to it? He's not mad? I've been worried sick for two weeks, and all we need to do is have a blood test. Oh, please, let it be so!
On the Mass Pike, it was too noisy to talk, so I contemplated Willie being so cavalier about me cheating on him. Doesn't he care if I'm faithful to him? He told me not to stray way back when he was away at his grandparents' house early in the summer. He was adamant about it back then, which is the reason I've been worrying so much about my straying. This is typical of me; the second I discover Willie isn't going to yell and scream and dump me, I drop that concern, and in its place, I worry about why he doesn't yell and scream and dump me. Stupid! Be happy, be grateful, talk to him about it, try to understand it, but don't fucking worry about it! It's a good thing.
Willie is being so himself about it. Driving past the toll at the Cambridge exit, I asked, "Aren't you at all disappointed in me?" He looked over and said, "I don't know what to think, Dylan. You're eighteen; teenagers are well known fuck ups. I wish you hadn't told me I'm not the only one you love. I feel kinda foolish because I thought you were madly in love with me, and me alone. I feel stupid about that, you know?"
I mumbled, "I'm sorry, Willie, I really am. I really do feel like a total shit about this, if that makes you feel any better." Willie was amazingly philosophical about the whole situation. He shrugged and said, "Like I just said, we're gay teens in the prime of our sexual life, so, of course, we're going to overdo it sometimes just because, well, just because we can. We're all stupid to some degree Dylan, stupid but trying to be happy." And he actually chuckled, adding, "Hey, I learned something from this. I learned I'm not as irresistible as I thought. You were somehow able to resist me long enough to fall for someone else, too."
He did an imitation of a laugh, but I think he was covering up his hurt, and so I said again, "I'm really sorry. When I need to, I'll come and talk to you about whatever I feel I should talk about. We'll work through whatever it is together. Okay? Nothing is going on behind your back."
Willie nodded and muttered, "That'd be great," but it didn't seem like he meant it. I wanted to hug him, thank him, apologize again, and tell him I loved him best, but I did none of those things. Instead, I was congratulating myself on still having him as my boyfriend.
We both had to endure a lecture from Willie's doctor, when we got in to see him. Dr. Warner ended the lecture with, "You know, William, that I keep very private what you and I discuss, and I do that so you can always feel confident about telling me anything. You, Dylan, are lucky to have a boyfriend like William here. He is as upfront a person as I've ever met, adult or otherwise. Nurse Ramos will take your blood, and we'll rush the results through for you boys. Be super careful, boys; Aids has no mercy."
The Rapid HIV test results, which we got in fifteen minutes, were negative. It'll take longer for the results of the Western Blot test, and we'll redo the test in five or six months, but we all knew we were safe. Willie was satisfied and apologized for doubting Robby's honesty, but I stopped him and told him the testing was no big deal; it made sense and was the very least I could do for him. Back in the car, I asked, "Do you think we can do it tonight, Willie?"
He gives me a look and said, "God almighty Dylan, I couldn't stop myself even if we tested positive. You're irresistible, sweetheart!"
I played along, but I knew he was joking. I'm pretty sure if I tested positive, Willie would use a condom tonight. We ate at an Italian restaurant and talked about us, and about what we knew about being in love, which turned out to be not much. Willie was very forthcoming about his ignorance of the topic of love. On the topic of dating, he freely admitted that his conception of dating came from his imagination, from comic books, and from TV.
Understandably, he asked questions about Robby, and I gave truthful answers without elaborating. Willie said, "I'm jealous of him, but I know life ain't exactly the way I want it to be at all times, so I need to deal with it somehow. For now, though, I don't want to talk about him anymore."
I nodded, and Willie smiled at me, indicating that everything is okay. I smiled back at him. A little later, with mouthfuls of pizza, we discussed how it felt to be in love with one another, finally agreeing that without prior experience, who knows if it is actually true love, or merely puppy love, or not love at all, but a heavy crush, or maybe we were just in love with the sex.
We laughed at ourselves because we didn't care what it was; we were very pleased to continue as we were. Walking to his car, with his arm around my waist, Willie asked, "Um, what would you like to do now?" I'm like, "Hmm? How about we hang out in your bedroom and play Monopoly or something?" Willie smiles, "Great idea!" We joked about that while driving to his house.
I took the time to consider my confession, and how I'd been surprised about almost everything that transpired after it. Surprised at how dumb I was to start with. I was surprised at how patient Willie was about everything, and how he didn't make fun of me even though he must have thought I was a nut-case worrying so much about having sex with another boyfriend when he, Willie, had done it regularly and openly with Larry. The good thing is, Willie's now losing interest in Larry, although I'm still not dropping Robby. I can't!
Whatever, I now know for sure that it's a wonderful feeling having things out in the open. I've never dated a girl or boy before Willie, so what did I know about what's acceptable and what's not? Plus, what's acceptable to one might not be to another. Chubby's dated girls, but only a couple of times. None of the guys we know are big on dates, not as couples. One-on-one dating wasn't prevalent in our lives like it apparently was back in our parents' day.
Pulling up Willie's long driveway, I tried to remember how many times I'd come here with him this past summer. Not sure, but it's been quite a few.
Earlier, during our pizza dinner, we discussed how we'd shortly only be able to see each other on Saturday nights during most of the school year because Willie boards at the Prep School and only gets home on weekends. Oh yeah, speaking of dating, Willie wants me to spend a weekend in his dorm room in November. That's when they have their big Fall dance, and I'll be Willie's date. That was a scary thing for me, being out and openly gay like that with a couple hundred kids.
It was not a big deal to Willie because he'd been a known gay student from day one at Prep, and there were quite a few other openly gay students, too. The overwhelming majority of the students were straight, of course, but a group was openly gay, which was a fairly easy thing to be in that inclusive Prep school atmosphere. The dance was almost two months away, so naturally, that concern went on the back burner for me. Willie's fight with Larry meant that Willie needed a new roommate, which complicates things for him.
My confession and everything else between Willie and me had worked out wonderfully, and I'm optimistic that Robby and I will be fine now, too. The reality of it all seems to be that I never had a dilemma to work out, which is fine with me. I just need to forget about all my days of worrying; they're in the past. Willie was driving us up his long driveway as I asked, "Everything okay, Willie?" and he replied, "Absolutely! I was just feeling bad you had to get yourself all worked up over doing it with Rob Dickers. You're such a sweet guy, Dylan."
Damn, now that everything has worked out so perfectly, what could possibly go wrong?
To be continued...
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