No music played in my stepdad's Subaru on our way home from the movie theater. I stayed silent and watched the silhouetted forest roll by, partially obscuring a warm full moon. My stepdad, Steven, didn't say anything, but that was nothing new - we had never been close. We tolerated each other rather than loved each other. As long as mom was happy.
Usually I would've done nothing to put myself in a situation like this, sitting alone next to Steven driving half an hour back to our suburban abode. I tried to keep to myself, to stay out of the way, to be nothing to anyone. This was the best way to keep things peaceful and manageable. I tried so hard to never need anything from my mom or step-dad. But today was different. I wanted more than anything to see the new Scream movie and begged my mom to take me. She had to visit her sister though, so she made Steven go. We went together to the AMC theater. I loved the movie. I think Steven liked it. He at least liked his popcorn and cherry coke.
The silence in the car unnerved me, but it's what Steven preferred. He liked a quiet night drive. Although he did break the silence to ask me something.
"So you like movies? I've never seen you ask for anything before."
"Yeah," I said, "I watch a movie everyday. I love them."
"Well we should watch some movies together sometime. I don't want to miss out on anything good."
"Sure." I said. We drove on a bit longer in a weird quiet.
Steven glanced over at me. "Do you want to watch a movie when we get home? Your mom's at her sister's house and I don't have anything to do for the rest of the night. Maybe we could watch another one of those Scream movies."
"Sure," I said again. I wasn't quite sure how to feel about this. On one hand, I had never spent so much time alone with Steven before and was feeling trepidatious. But on the other hand, I was having a nice time and the prospect of watching Scream always excited me.
We arrived home and entered the house together. I asked Steven, "have you seen the original Scream? It's the best of course."
"No, I haven't. Wanna watch it?"
I smiled.
He smiled back. "Come on, let's go to the living room."
I followed him down the short hallway. As always, I took advantage of his turned back to admire his burly figure. He was a tall, muscular man, about 6'3" and built like a football player. Every part of him was thick. His legs were long, wide, and powerful, with sizable calves and bulging thighs, all covered with a carpet of coarse black hair. His shorts tightly encased his beefy ass - you could see the outlines of those cheeks from a mile away. His torso was long and rugged, and you could see his furry stomach peeking out from under his shirt when he lifted up his arms. With herculean biceps and triceps, his arms were virile, brawny, and dangerous. Then there was his chest. I could barely contain myself around those giant pecs straining against his shirt with his nipples visible through the fabric. His chest was exceptionally broad, muscular, and prominent - you could tell just by looking that his pecs were sculpted and rock hard.
Steven's face looked like it had been carved from granite. His jaw was sharp and commanding, his cheekbones wide and angular, his dark black hair was cropped short military style. His beard was a coarse black jungle he kept just long enough to cover his face. The only blemish, if that's even the right word, was a birthmark situated around his right eye. The slight, reddish pigmentation contrasted with his bright green eyes. I had come to appreciate this birthmark as something beautiful. Overall, he left a dramatic, arresting impression of someone who was a classic man down to the core.
I felt like a girl next to him. I had just turned 18 but you wouldn't be able to tell by looking at me. I was skinny with visible ribs and a completely smooth, hairless body. The hair on my head was soft and blonde. I had big, brown eyes and a round jawline. I had never attracted attention from anyone before in my life.
Before Steven turned on the TV, I caught a glimpse of the two of us reflected in it. Steven - big, bulky, manly. Me - half his size and embarrassingly feminine.
We pressed play on the movie and settled in. This time, Steven seemed more engaged and talkative. He asked questions, made jokes that were genuinely funny, and laughed uproariously at all the right moments. As the movie progressed, I became more comfortable and began to realize that I was really enjoying Steven's company. For the first time in a long time, I felt loved.
We paused for a bathroom break about halfway through. When Steven returned to the couch, he sat right next to me. I gave him an awkward glance and he shot back a gleaming smile that reached his eyes.
"It's nice spending time with you, son. I didn't realize you knew so much about movies."
A raging warmth spread through my body, intensely, rapidly, almost painfully. This was the first time he had ever called me "son." Fighting back tears, I managed to squeak out "I enjoy spending time with you too... dad."
Steven smiled even wider. Our eyes connected for a brief moment. I felt as if he had glanced into my soul and seen me for the first time as a son, a real son. And for the first time in my life, I felt like I had a real dad.
Steven put his arm around my shoulders, looked into my eyes, and said "You know I love you, right?"
The dam broke. I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. "I know," I replied, tears streaming down my face. "I love you too, dad."
"You're a good boy, son."