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Riding the Waves By: Sean Roberts
-- Chapter 7 --
The next morning, Dylan found Tyler in the kitchen, accompanied by the welcome smell of coffee.
"Good morning," Tyler said tentatively. "Want some coffee?"
"Please," Dylan replied groggily. Tyler poured it into two mugs.
"So, we got a bit drunk last night," Tyler said. His voice was still nervous. Dylan did not reply. He was too busy burning his tongue trying to take a sip of the coffee.
"I-I'm glad it happened," Dylan said. When Dylan had climbed into bed the night before, he was poised to be up the entire night thinking about what happened, trying to figure out why they had not stayed together. But the alcohol put him to sleep. He was just as nervous as his friend; they could not look each other in the eye. And then Tyler shot a bullet.
"That isn't surprising Lewis, considering you're a fucking faggot."
"What?"
"Come on Lewis, you don't really think that I—oh shit you're serious. We were just drunk man, that's it. I'm not a queer, I thought you knew that. And I mean we all know you are, that's why everyone on the team—"
"Stop, please," Dylan said. Tyler shut up immediately.
"I don't know why you would say something like that. If you're not interested or whatever, that's fine, but you don't have to say that shit."
"Did I hurt your feelings Lewis?" Dylan needed to end this right away.
"No. Just a bit disappointing to hear you talking like that. We came here to study right? Let's hit the books so we can go home." Tyler sat at the table. They took out their books, and ten minutes later, Tyler picked up his textbook and flung it behind him. It hit the wall with a thud.
"I'm never going to fucking get this."
"Take it easy Harris. We've been at it for ten minutes. Just take a break, okay? Let's make some more coffee." The second cup helped, and Tyler managed to get into it again. Dylan pushed their earlier conversation out of his head so that he could help Tyler patiently. But as much as he tried, every minute sitting there was agony. Dylan wished he still had those crutches. Finally, they got through a chapter. Tyler slammed his book shut victoriously.
"I'm starving. We should go get some lunch."
"I'll go pick something up. I want to get out of the house for a bit," Dylan said.
Dylan fired up Tyler's car. The power of the engine underneath him was freeing. The tires screeched as Dylan drove away from the house, not really sure where he was going. He could use the GPS later; for now he needed to just go. When he came out to a main road, he shifted gears and opened up the engine. After fifteen minutes of driving, he pulled over, climbed out of the car, and yelled an expletive into the air.
He leaned against the car, watching the sparse traffic flow by as he cried. He felt like he had blown off enough steam to be able to go back. He found a fast food joint on the way and picked up some burgers.
They ate in silence as a darkness enveloped the house. Angry, dark grey clouds were rolling in. The boys started to work again, and then Dylan looked up when he heard the first drops begin to fall. It quickly turned into one of the worst storms he had ever seen. The stale, hot air cleared out and they could smell the fresh, clear smell brought by the rain. The ocean reacted violently to the torrents.
During the drive back with the food, he told himself over again that it was just one more day, and then he would be home and never have to see Tyler again. He was going to leave Augustine's for sure. He was not worrying about his parents; he would come up with something to tell them. This was the only way he could last the weekend after Tyler—
"You know you can't have it both ways," Dylan said suddenly, interrupting his own thoughts.
"What?"
"I get that you don't like me Harris, but you can't treat me like this and still ask me to do stuff for you. You really expect me to keep helping you with school after the shit you just said to me?"
"I'm sorry," Tyler said.
"You said that yesterday. That's what got us into this in the first place."
"No, yesterday I was drunk. Today I'm saying sorry that you're an overly sensitive little bitch." Dylan smiled. Then he stood up suddenly and grabbed Tyler's hair. He yanked it backwards, pulling Tyler's body back so the chair fell. Dylan let go, making Tyler fall backwards with the chair. As soon as he was on the ground, Dylan grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the table, straight out towards the pool. Tyler was struggling to get away, but Dylan was surprisingly strong. Tyler got thrown into the pool in his pyjamas.
Dylan did not undress before jumping into the pool and he pushed Tyler's head into the water. He counted thirty seconds, during which Tyler had grabbed his arm, trying to get himself released. But Dylan held firmly until his count was over. Tyler coughed, struggling to catch his breath.
"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Tyler said. Dylan took a small step backwards, breathing heavily, looking around and trying to figure out how they got into the pool. The anger and the pain had pulled him in there. Tyler took advantage of Dylan's dropped guard and pushed Dylan roughly against the pool wall, pinning his arms. They looked at each other, their clothes wet and their faces red. There was unbridled anger in both their eyes; and then suddenly Tyler leaned forward and kissed Dylan. Tyler's wrists began to hurt for how tightly they were being held. The rain flattened their hair and slid down their faces, entering their mouths during the brief glimpses of time their lips stopped touching. Thunder shook the ground beneath them and the ocean responded by crashing a large wave against the cliff. Tyler let Dylan go. They watched the rain falling down each other's faces as they both tried to figure out what to say.
"We'd better get inside," Dylan said.
"I'll get towels," Tyler said. They stood under the awning, staring out past the pool over the cliff as they dried themselves.
"Can we go home? Please?" Dylan said, using all the strength he had to keep his voice even.
"No. I mean yes. It's just that, the rain, maybe we should wait for it to stop."
"I guess."
"We've got more wine."
"Now you're talking."
--
They showered and changed, and Tyler poured them two glasses of wine.
"Lewis—"
"I swear Harris, if you say anything else to me, and I mean ever, I will murder you. I really do not want to talk. In fact, I'm going to take this to my room. Please come get me when the rain stops and we can leave." Dylan stood up with his glass.
"I'm sorry," Tyler said. "For real. I shouldn't have said any of that stuff earlier. But what do you want from me Lewis?"
Dylan threw his glass against the wall. It shattered, staining the wall and the floor with red wine.
"What the fuck kind of apology is that?" Dylan shouted. "I don't want anything from you! We're here because of you, because you're—"
"I can't tell anybody," Tyler interrupted. "About anything. About my grades, or about the fact that I'm, well, you know. Like you. And I was scared this morning, after last night, and I just didn't know what to do."
For the first time, Dylan saw Tyler look shamefully down at the floor. Dylan stepped towards him, and took Tyler's hand into his own.
"I can't tell anybody either," Dylan said. "So you're safe, okay?" Tyler pulled his hand away and nodded. They cleaned up the glass and the wine; Tyler poured Dylan a fresh one.
"So what do we do now?" Tyler said. "I mean, there's Alice, and Lisa, and our parents. I don't want this to stop."
"Well don't worry. You'll change your mind in five minutes."
"No I won't," Tyler said. "Do you know how hard this is for me? I'm not even allowed to be your friend. But you should know that the rest of the team wasn't treating you that way because of me. Well, I guess it was partly because of me. But you aren't the only one trying to get into college. How do you think everyone felt when you showed up on the first day and upstaged everybody?"
"We go to one of the best schools in the state. I would have thought everyone would be glad that someone's going to help their team win. For fuck's sake," Dylan said. He took a large sip of his wine.
"You know, I couldn't believe it when you agreed to come out here with me after everything that's happened. I'm really fucking sorry. It—it kills me every time I say something, well, not nice to you."
"Then stop doing it."
"I will; I swear." They both took a sip of wine.
"Tyler," Dylan said. They looked at each other. Dylan did not have a follow through. They had never called each other by their first names before because of their feud, and saying Tyler's name made Dylan smile.
"This can't continue. I mean, Alice. I can't—" Tyler said.
"I know," Dylan said. "So, umm, are you—do you like girls as well?"
"I, uh, don't really think so. I mean, I kiss her and stuff, but I don't like it that much."
"What about the other stuff?"
"Haven't done it. I mean, I think she wants to, but I kind of just avoid it, try to pretend I'm a gentleman."
"That must be a difficult."
"Look at you getting the cheap shots in, Lewis. What about you? When I came to see you the other day you looked like you had been sucking Lisa's face off."
"That made you jealous!" Dylan said, finally seeing it. "That's why you brought me here!"
"Don't be stupid Lewis. And stop drinking so much. It's making you think idiotic things."
"Okay fine, you're not jealous. I do like girls," Dylan said. "Why are you still with Alice then?"
"This merger. Since it started, our parents have been spending a lot of time together. And so we have as well, and then in the summer, we kind of just got together."
"I'm not coming back, Tyler," Dylan said after a pause.
"What are you talking about?"
"I'm not coming back to St. Augustine's. I'm going to tell my parents as soon as we get back home tomorrow."
"Dylan, not that I blame you, but now that you can swim again you're back on the team, and I think with you we can really start winning some of the harder ones."
"What would be the point? I can just go to one of the school's that's kicking your arse. With my swim times and my grades, they'll let me in anywhere."
"I would be the point."
"You would be the point? You as in Tyler Harris, the dude who can not be my friend; the one who has to keep dating some chick instead of me?"
"Fuck you Lewis, you're dating some chick too. Anyway, forget about me. With you on the team, we can be the school beating everyone else. And what about Ethan? He's a cool guy, and he seems to really like you."
"Yeah, what's with that? I mean I met the guy for the first time and he started acting like my best friend."
"He's just like that. He likes everyone. But he really likes you. I don't mean in that way—trust me he's completely straight—but he likes you."
"So you expect me to come back, and keep dating Lisa while you and Alice—and pretend that you and I aren't, whatever we are?"
"You're not as dumb as you look Lewis," Tyler said. The glasses were empty and Tyler poured some more, emptying the bottle. "We've been doing it up `till now, haven't we? How hard can it be to continue? But, I promise I'll start being nice to you. Well, civil, anyway." Dylan shrugged. "But until then, cheers."
They sipped their second glass and started to talk about the team, about their cars and about the weather in California. They spent a rainy afternoon catching up on their friendship.
They went for a swim after the rain stopped, wading around in the pool talking as they sobered up before dinner. They showered and Tyler drove them down to a nearby steakhouse he knew. The large steaks were cooked to perfection, and went nicely with the waiter's recommended wine. When they got back, they opened another bottle of wine but did not get to taste it. Tyler said he just needed to close his eyes for a few minutes. Dylan did the same, and they woke up the next morning beside each other on the couch.
Dylan swam slowly for almost two hours. He needed the time more than he needed to push himself. He had to get his mind and his muscles used to being back in the water. Tyler sat by the pool with his school books, listening to the rhythmic splashing of Dylan's arms as the boy moved peacefully through the water. When Dylan finally climbed out of the pool, he felt ready to get back to the team.
Tyler looked up from his books and gave Dylan a once over. Twice. Dylan dried himself, and could hear Tyler following him inside—right into the guest bathroom. Tyler pinned Dylan against the wall of the shower. They took each other into their hands, coming almost right away with heavy breath and locked lips. They stayed in the shower for a long time, knowing that as soon as they got out, they would have to leave.