Thomas and Niko in the City of Trees - Chapter 17
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It got to a point halfway through senior year where I was desperate to fill up a little free time, so I asked Ms. Nolan for another book to read, and she lent me a copy of Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. I was pretty skeptical at first. The previous book she lent me was called Middlesex, and I was so moved by it that I just couldn't see how some crazy kids' book could measure up. Well, it didn't. But there is a scene in it that has stuck with me ever since.
It happens when Alice goes with this character called the Gryphon to visit another character called the Mock Turtle. This whole situation with the Mock Turtle is what I couldn't seem to get out of my head once I read it. First of all, the Gryphon tells Alice that the Mock Turtle is sad without having anything to be sad about which, believe me, I can relate to. Not much is said about the place the Mock Turtle lives, so I guess my imagination must have filled in the gaps. All it says is that he's sitting up on a little rocky ledge all alone, and I pictured that ledge along the shore of this endless gray sea, with these wisps of fog hanging low over the water. The water itself is pretty still, just barely lapping at the edge. I didn't care very much for the back-and-forth that goes on between the Mock Turtle and Alice and the Gryphon, but I was pretty struck by the way they leave him: all alone again in that vast quiet space, just singing sadly to himself for eternity. It occurred to me that he must be the most isolated character in the whole story, and suddenly I envied him. Who knows where hell I got a feeling like that from—maybe I wasn't in a particularly good mood at the time. But I ended up holding onto that place I imagined for weeks, even months after I finished the book. Even now, I still feel this occasional longing for my own solitude in a vacant landscape next to a quiet gray sea. I don't know where you'd have to go to find a place like that in the real world. Maybe somewhere in the U.K., where Lewis Carroll—that's the author—is from. But I wouldn't be surprised at all if, like pretty much every other place in the book, it can't actually be found in reality.
Anyway, guess where I'm wishing I could be right now? It's not really that I'm feeling upset about anything. Truth be told, I'm not feeling much. I just want to be alone. After work I borrow my mom's car and drive out into the desert. I shut off the engine and radio and sit up on the roof. The metal kind of bows and pops beneath my weight. I stare out into the emptiness, listening to the sounds of the evening, trying to focus on the distant horizon and be present and all that. But it's just not doing it for me.
The sun gets low and I start driving home. I get a text from Thomas asking if I'll come over tonight before his schedule gets crazy. I drop off my moms car. She's off work tonight, so I doubt she'll need it, but you never fucking know.
I'm walking pretty quickly between my house and his, just to ensure that I have enough time with him. Dusk is turning to dark all around me. The warm wind kicks up and rustles the branches and leaves of the trees. It makes everything feel alive.
I enter the Chu household and find Alfred on the couch watching a movie. He nods his head at me. This kid is the fucking king of silent greetings. I go into Thomas's room and close the door.
"What's up?" he says. He's at his desk, so I lie back on his bed and stare at the ceiling. He's reading about music again. I'm telling you, he never fucking quits with that stuff. One time he talked to me about rare time signatures for half and hour. Anyway, I lie on my back for a while, and he just keeps on reading, like it was all my idea to come over and interrupt his quiet evening alone. I prop myself up on my elbows and ask him to turn around. He spins slowly in his chair to face me.
"What's the plan?" I say.
"Just thought we could hang out. Things are going to get crazy tomorrow."
"I know."
He's just staring me up and down for a minute. "When the fuck did you get so tan?"
I shrug. "Just happened gradually, I guess."
"Jesus, dude."
"Nothing compared to you."
He laughs. "I know. I look like I've been working the fields."
He has this thin white t-shirt on. He's kind of flexing a little. He knows I'm watching him. My god, he's looking huge tonight—and it's true, his skin is getting very dark. I think he's secretly pretty proud of that complexion. His dad is always trying to get him to stay out of the sun, but he won't do it. I swear, by the time he gets up to Seattle, he won't look like anyone else around.
"When do you leave?" I ask.
"In a month, yesterday."
Somehow I had it in my head that he was staying in town a lot longer than me. But that's less than week after I leave. I don't say anything, just roll over on my stomach. I bury my face in his blanket and sheets. I breathe in.
"BSU is doing these correspondence practices twice a day," I hear him say, "but I've got to head upcand get practicing with the real team pretty soon."
I lift myself, crawl over and scoot up against his headboard. "I'm excited for you."
"Thanks."
"I'll find somewhere to stream the games."
"If you want," he says. He's doing his best to sound bored.
"Of course I do."
He's giving me the strangest fucking look. I decide to take a page from his book and cover my face with a pillow. I feel him slowly climb onto the bed and crawl over to me. He grabs the pillow and pulls it aside. His face is about a foot away from fine. "What are you getting up to, Niko?"
"Hmm? Nothing."
He moves in a little closer. Our lips are just about touching. "Is it too soon?" he whispers.
"I don't know."
His palms rest on each side of my shoulders. I find myself sort of boxed in by his forearms and biceps. He's got one knee planted between my legs. I watch that beautiful face flush with blood, staring at me expectantly. The heat is fucking coming off him in waves.
I swear to god, sometimes I still can't believe it's all real.
He moves in another inch and kisses me. He's pretty soft and tender about it, like he's taking his time remembering the way my lips feel against his. He pulls back. "Damn, you need to shave."
"Do I?"
He cocks his head to the side. He's thinking about it. "Nope." He moves in again, turning back into that playful, ferocious kid I grew up with with. He's really letting me have it, getting his tongue involved and all that. He pulls my t-shirt up over my head, then his own. I always have to hold my breath for a second or two when he does that. I reach out and feel his chest. He straddles my waist and rides me a little bit. I ask his what he's up to and he says he's just playing around. I tell him he should slow down or I'll lose my shit.
The TV turns off in the living room. We freeze. There's not a lot to worry about, since Thomas's family doesn't mess around with closed doors as a rule, but still, we wait until he's shut in his room to be sure the coast is clear.
We strip down to nothing. I can't get enough of the sight of him naked. It's like it's all brand new to me, every fucking time. He returns to his position on top of me. I warn him again that he needs to back off or it won't last. He just laughs, scoots down a little and takes both of us in one hand. We barely fit in his grasp. He starts pleasuring both of us at the same time, just like he would pleasure himself alone. I'm telling you, that shit only takes about ten seconds. At the end of it, I'm pretty lost in that afterglow. I realize I'm covered in both our jizz. He gives me a couple more small kisses and leaves to grab an old t-shirt. He insists on cleaning me up himself.
All night, we drift in and out of each other's arms. We wind up pretty close when my alarms goes off in the morning. I have to push him off me a little.
"So early," he says. His voice is super deep and scratchy.
