I think it's kind of nice that Alfred wants to hang out with us, but I don't feel like butting in. "When do you want to study for finals?" I say.
Thomas looks down at the table without blinking. "Not on a Saturday, that's when."
"Let's go walk around downtown, then."
I'm kind of surprised when he perks up at this idea. "Maybe the slide's open," he says.
We're getting ready to leave and Alfred's just sitting there on the couch. "You coming or not?" I say.
"Sure," he says. He's super happy to be invited, I can tell.
We're in the car are Alfred is kicking the back of Thomas's seat, which really pisses him off. "This is why I don't fucking let you come," Thomas says.
Alfred stops kicking. The windows are down. The traffic on Fairview is just creeping along for a while. There are some faint waves of heat coming up off the parking lots, distorting the light. That's the kind of thing you only notice at the beginning of the hot season. It's all new again.
We take the exit onto the 184 and warm winds rushes in through the windows. Thomas puts on Kendrick and we sing along. Alfred is pretending he knows the words, which I secretly think is the greatest fucking thing. We're downtown in a matter of about eight minutes and Thomas pulls into a garage off of Main.
We walk over to see if the slide is open, but it's not. Thomas doesn't seem too disappointed by it. They have the fountains going again though, over in the Grove. Alfred walks a few paces behind us, like he's our pet or something. We're just standing there watching little kids play in the fountain, and Thomas's hand brushes mine. He instantly jerks it upwards like he's about to smack me with it, and looks over with a threatening face. It's all a joke. Thomas buys us all ice cream. I don't feel that guilty about accepting this time because I know his dad puts quite a bit of money on his debit card every month, and anyway, it's just a one-time thing. We stand there, all of us really still, eating our ice cream on the corner of Tenth and Main. The cars just kind of float by like they aren't really on the way to anywhere. Thomas wants to see if the Record Exchange has this new album he's waiting for, so we go over there. He picks it up. Outside, he holds it high above his head. He's still wearing that fucking sleeveless shirt. He does a victory lap halfway down the block and then comes back.
—
That night, it's just Thomas and me in his room. It's probably around nine o'clock. His door is closed.
"We should text the girls," he says.
"Sure," I say. I had already been going back and forth a little with Lexie, so I ask if she wants to come by. I like how I don't even specify that I mean Thomas's place, she just assumes. It's been that way for a long time now. It turns out she and Madison are already together. They've started doing that quite a bit lately, hanging out on their own. I'm glad being friends is working out so well for them. They say they'll be over in about half an hour.
Thomas puts on the record he bought earlier. He's been getting really into music lately. A few months ago he dragged his dad's old hifi out of storage in the garage and set it up in his room. It was the kind of move that has hipster vibes written all over it, but I don't think Thomas could ever actually become a hipster.
The music sounds kind of experimental to me and there aren't a lot of lyrics, but one of the songs has this nice beat that gets us both up off the bed for some reason. Thomas is a better dancer than he would want anyone to believe. At all the school dances he pretends like he's just messing around, doing it ironically or some shit like that, but the truth is that he is naturally very good at it. I bet he practices alone in his room.
Anyway, suddenly we're kind of dancing and just fucking around in the open space between the foot of his bed and his desk. I get really brave and pretend like I'm grinding up on him. I know that will fuck with him quite a bit. He laughs and shoves me toward the bed, hard enough that I pretty much fall onto it. All I can say is, everything is happening really fast. I go to get up, but he pounces on me, holding me down. He's just wearing basketball shorts and I can feel his junk through them, against my hip. I kind of squirm around, but he's stronger than me and I know that if he really wants to keep me there, he can. I only use maybe half my strength to try and get out of it, because really, why would I even fucking try at that point?
I'm on my stomach. He has his arms wrapped around my chest. It comes to me as this fucking wave of realization. I don't know. Maybe I've always kind of known. Maybe this is how it feels to suppress something. Maybe it's like when people have those recovered memories that I've read about, where your mind suddenly acknowledges something hiding in your subconscious—some shit like that.
The fact is: I want Thomas Chu, my best friend in the world, to keep holding himself close to me like this. His body is so sweaty and hot that it's pretty much steaming, and that heat is all around me now. The music is still going. I can feel his dick pressing against me more clearly now, because it's hard. Thomas is hard. And so am I, and I'm already about to lose my shit. What the fuck is wrong with me?
He's kind of moving against me. I move against him. That's all it takes. He makes a weird sound like he's about to say something but he can't get the words out, and then I feel something wet against my back. That's fucking right. And guess what? I immediately jizz inside my pants.
The fucking song is still going. Neither of us moves right away. We just lay there breathing in and out, and he's still on top of me. Then he stands up really fast. He goes over to the stereo and I hear a banging sound. The music stops.
"Fuck man," he says. "What the fuck." He's angry. I can hear it in his voice.
That's all he says. I can't get him to say a word while we clean ourselves up. His jizz is on the back of my shirt. I tell him I'm going to need another one and he goes over and tears open a dresser drawer. He throws the new shirt in my direction without looking at me. Then he's just standing there holding a fresh pair of underwear.
Suddenly he says, "Can you fucking get out of here while I change?"
"Give me a pair," I say. "I'll change in the bathroom."
"Why do you fucking need to change?"
He wants me to spell it out for him. I swear to god, Thomas can be so fucking stupid sometimes. I just look at him. I wait for him to look me in the fucking eyes. When he does, I say, "Because I came too, you idiot." I state it clearly. I'm not going to be the one who's afraid right now.
He's got the strangest look I've ever seen on his face. I don't know if I would call it relief, or shock, or disgust. Whatever it is, I guess it's a good indication of how fucked up everything is right now.
I'm standing there in the bathroom, just giving myself a good long look in the mirror. I change, and when I pull my pants back up around my waist, I find myself face to face with this intricate red Chinese knot, hanging from a hook on the door. Thomas's mom put them up all over the house years ago.
I start crying. I keep it really quiet. I don't make a sound. It goes on for a minute or two, and then I stop. The girls will be over soon. Thomas is really good and putting on a face, and so am I. I go back to his room. I lay myself down on his bed and stay still. He's over at his window, staring out at the backyard. He turns back after a while and looks at me.
"Not a fucking word," he says.
"Are you kidding? Never."
We nod at each other. It feels like the kind of pact that can only be made between good friends. We've gone through a lot of shit together, Thomas and me, and through it all our friendship has stayed intact. What the fuck am I saying—it has stayed strong. Gotten stronger. Strong enough to get through another day, even in the face of this. I know that for fucking sure.
