NOTE: Thanks to Mrs. Willingham for being an awesome creative writing teach.
ONE
It is Friday.
Joshy and i are partners for portrait art in drawing class. we sit across from one another at our own table, and try to draw the other without breaking concentration. As i draw Joshy, I begin to notice the gentle curves of his face, the shape of his eyes, the brilliance of his hair. he is very handsome, and I say, “Joshy, it’s really easy to draw you because you’re so good looking.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“You could model,” I suggest, using the charcoal to accentuate the bump on his nose.
“thank you,” he says again, smiling.
“i mean it,” I say. “You really could. You’ve got all the looks.”
This time he doesn’t say anything. But when class is over, he asks me if I want to hang out.
TWO
Dylan is on the computer, looking up songs on Soulseek, and Josh is at my kitchen table painting me something. “What are you painting?” i ask him, unable to recognize the shapes and colors as anything concrete.
“You’re actually asking me what i’m painting?” Josh smiles, not looking up. “As if I’m supposed to know what it is before i do it?”
“I always know what I’m going to do before I do it,” Dill pipes up from the computer chair, also not looking up.
“Yeah,” i agree, moving behind Josh so I can look over his shoulder. “It’s pretty standard.”
“Well I don’t-” he says, and i slide both of my hands onto his shoulders and begin to massage, “know.” He doesn’t flinch as I begin to administer the service, but he doesn’t relax into it either. I keep pressing into his flesh and eventually he does lean his head back a little, and fingers are able to slide down to his chest a little, where I feel knots wedged deep into his pectorals. I look towards the computer to check if Dylan is at all watching us.
“You have a lot of tension here,” I murmur, digging my thumbs deep into his back, “and a lot of knots.” I curl my fingers in, and with my thumbs and knuckles i begin a deep tissue massage. I push my fingers in until i can feel the ribs in his back. His breathing deepens, and I ask him, “Does this hurt, Josh?”
“no,” he says. “Not at all.”
“Are you sure? I think that this usually hurts people. You have sooooo many knots back here Joshy.” i move my hands beneath his shoulder blades, and feel all the strength in his muscles. “It doesn’t hurt,” he says. Dylan finally spins the computer chair around, and I pull my hands off Josh quickly, ending the...whatever it was. but I don’t exactly want to stop the massage, so I start to karate chop into his back, far less intimate. I feel the tense muscles relax like tenderized meat. I end the service with a few quick pulls on his shoulders, and a gentle squeeze at the base of his neck. I move away from behind him and back to my seat at the kitchen table. He looks up at me and says: “thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” i smile. he looks down at his painting again and continues, but his brow is furrowed in unspoken concern. We make eye contact again after a few moments pass. I look over at Dylan, who has turned back around, his face in shades of blue because of the computer screen light. Then i look at Josh again.
THREE
i drop Josh off at around 10:15. As I pull out of his neighborhood and start heading towards the freeway, I remember I have to meet up with my friend in Pacific Beach for a party. I decide: my night with Josh isn’t over. and I certainly didn’t want to stop kicking it. So I flip a bitch on Linda Vista Road and call his house at the same time. He answers. “Josh?” I ask.
“nat?” he asks, and then laughs. “hey, I was just about to call somebody. It didn’t even ring.”
“Oh,” I say. “hey. Do you want to come with me to a party?”
“What kind of party?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Wanna come?”
“sure.”
“Okay, wear some nice pants and I’ll be at your place in like five minutes.”
“Actually I think I’ll wear some jeans.”
“Hot,” I say, smiling.
I hear him laugh, and I hang up. I get to his house sooner than I said, so i wait. In the rearview mirror I see that there is still charcoal underneath my eyes, because in art class earlier that day I thought it would be funny to look like a zombie, so I rubbed powdered charcoal around my eyes. I managed to wash most of it off but there was still a line of shadow on my bottom lid. I decided it looked hot, like eyeliner. so I leave it.
Josh runs to my car. i smile, letting him in. He looks very handsome in his golf hat and blazer, especially paired with a t shirt and denim jeans. We head over to PB. My friend and all HER friends are eating at the Dennys there, and after we order our meals and eat up (the check generously paid for by Mike, a male friend of Patty’s friend Monica) and head over to the beach, where, underneath the pier, a bunch of our friends are smoking out. its lame but i give Josh permission to smoke, since he likes to. He declines, and instead he walks with me along the water. The moonlight is so soft, so bright, and it glints off the sparkling surface of the water, sending light in every direction.
Later on we all find ourselves in the Cairo Café. it’s 2am. Jordan, who is a year younger than I, Tiffany and Jorge, who are two years younger than I, are talking about Justin. Maria and David are talking about Frightmare on Market Street. It takes me awhile to realize that Justin and Frightmare on Market Street are the same subject. “What is Frightmare?” I hear someone ask, and I turn in the direction of the voice. it’s Josh. I have just spent 16 hours with Joshy. “It’s this place that opens up around Halloween which has different rooms and is supposed to be a scary house.” He laughs, “Oh.” I say, “I doubt you’d be scared there.” He nods, “i’m not scared of anything.” And I think to myself, cool.
FOUR
It is Saturday, and I have just picked up Dylan from the bus station in Fashion Valley. In the car, I decide its time to tell all.
“You know, Dylan,” I begin, “when I first saw you, I thought you were so handsome. And that’s kind of why I talked to you. I don’t know if I was attracted, I mean you’re not my ideal type. But, I definitely thought you were cute.
“And so we talked. And time went on and we became fast friends. Everytime I introduced you to someone and they liked you or you thought they were cute, I would get really upset. I don’t know if it was jealousy, but it may have been. it’s just that, you and I weren’t established in what we were yet, I mean we were still getting to know one another, and the thought that something would develop between someone I knew and you before you and i had been developed, it bothered me. do you understand so far?”
“Yes,” he says quietly, looking at me from my passenger seat expectantly.
“Well, I’ve come to realize something. You are one of my soulmates. You are meant to be one of my guy best friends. You were the one who once told me that we were meant to do something together, something great, bigger than ourselves.” He had told me that on our way back from the Morrissey concert. “And I agree. I mean, I love you Dylan. But I’ve come to realize I don’t love you romantically.”
I wait for a moment, to let him voice anything he wants to say. He doesn’t say anything, so I sigh and go on.
“I mean, you really aren’t my ideal,” I say. “When I envision the right person for me, I see dark hair.”
“Note to self,” he pipes up, “dye hair dark.” He laughs, and I laugh too.
“And yet I wonder why I was initially attracted to you, and then I realized what it was.”
“What was it?”
“I HAD to find you cute. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have spoken to you to begin with. So its like God matched us together and saw our souls had the right fit, but he knew we wouldn’t let our paths cross very much if there wasn’t some attraction. So he made sure that I would see your physical beauty so I would be drawn to talk to you, but once we started to be friends and realized all the things we had in common, that kind of superficial love would end, and a greater love would take over. And that’s what happened. You’re one of the most important people to me, Dylan. I’m happy you’re in my life, and that we are friends, and can help one another. Do you kind of get it?”
“Yeah,” he said, “God made sure I was cute to you so we would get together, but he also knew that in the end our friendship would be more important to you than anything else. So it’s kind of a destiny thing. He kind of tricked us into being friends.”
“Exactly. God does work in mysterious ways.”
“But you know, Nat,” he said quietly, looking out of the windshield, peering at something nobody could see but him. Maybe he was just staring at his own thoughts formulating in the distance. “I wouldn’t mind it if you liked me. But I do mind,” he stopped, and turned to me, “if we were friends or not.”
“Well we are. But I don’t like you.”
“Okay,” he said. And that was that.
It is Friday.
Joshy and i are partners for portrait art in drawing class. we sit across from one another at our own table, and try to draw the other without breaking concentration. As i draw Joshy, I begin to notice the gentle curves of his face, the shape of his eyes, the brilliance of his hair. he is very handsome, and I say, “Joshy, it’s really easy to draw you because you’re so good looking.”
“Thank you,” he says.
“You could model,” I suggest, using the charcoal to accentuate the bump on his nose.
“thank you,” he says again, smiling.
“i mean it,” I say. “You really could. You’ve got all the looks.”
This time he doesn’t say anything. But when class is over, he asks me if I want to hang out.
TWO
Dylan is on the computer, looking up songs on Soulseek, and Josh is at my kitchen table painting me something. “What are you painting?” i ask him, unable to recognize the shapes and colors as anything concrete.
“You’re actually asking me what i’m painting?” Josh smiles, not looking up. “As if I’m supposed to know what it is before i do it?”
“I always know what I’m going to do before I do it,” Dill pipes up from the computer chair, also not looking up.
“Yeah,” i agree, moving behind Josh so I can look over his shoulder. “It’s pretty standard.”
“Well I don’t-” he says, and i slide both of my hands onto his shoulders and begin to massage, “know.” He doesn’t flinch as I begin to administer the service, but he doesn’t relax into it either. I keep pressing into his flesh and eventually he does lean his head back a little, and fingers are able to slide down to his chest a little, where I feel knots wedged deep into his pectorals. I look towards the computer to check if Dylan is at all watching us.
“You have a lot of tension here,” I murmur, digging my thumbs deep into his back, “and a lot of knots.” I curl my fingers in, and with my thumbs and knuckles i begin a deep tissue massage. I push my fingers in until i can feel the ribs in his back. His breathing deepens, and I ask him, “Does this hurt, Josh?”
“no,” he says. “Not at all.”
“Are you sure? I think that this usually hurts people. You have sooooo many knots back here Joshy.” i move my hands beneath his shoulder blades, and feel all the strength in his muscles. “It doesn’t hurt,” he says. Dylan finally spins the computer chair around, and I pull my hands off Josh quickly, ending the...whatever it was. but I don’t exactly want to stop the massage, so I start to karate chop into his back, far less intimate. I feel the tense muscles relax like tenderized meat. I end the service with a few quick pulls on his shoulders, and a gentle squeeze at the base of his neck. I move away from behind him and back to my seat at the kitchen table. He looks up at me and says: “thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” i smile. he looks down at his painting again and continues, but his brow is furrowed in unspoken concern. We make eye contact again after a few moments pass. I look over at Dylan, who has turned back around, his face in shades of blue because of the computer screen light. Then i look at Josh again.
THREE
i drop Josh off at around 10:15. As I pull out of his neighborhood and start heading towards the freeway, I remember I have to meet up with my friend in Pacific Beach for a party. I decide: my night with Josh isn’t over. and I certainly didn’t want to stop kicking it. So I flip a bitch on Linda Vista Road and call his house at the same time. He answers. “Josh?” I ask.
“nat?” he asks, and then laughs. “hey, I was just about to call somebody. It didn’t even ring.”
“Oh,” I say. “hey. Do you want to come with me to a party?”
“What kind of party?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Wanna come?”
“sure.”
“Okay, wear some nice pants and I’ll be at your place in like five minutes.”
“Actually I think I’ll wear some jeans.”
“Hot,” I say, smiling.
I hear him laugh, and I hang up. I get to his house sooner than I said, so i wait. In the rearview mirror I see that there is still charcoal underneath my eyes, because in art class earlier that day I thought it would be funny to look like a zombie, so I rubbed powdered charcoal around my eyes. I managed to wash most of it off but there was still a line of shadow on my bottom lid. I decided it looked hot, like eyeliner. so I leave it.
Josh runs to my car. i smile, letting him in. He looks very handsome in his golf hat and blazer, especially paired with a t shirt and denim jeans. We head over to PB. My friend and all HER friends are eating at the Dennys there, and after we order our meals and eat up (the check generously paid for by Mike, a male friend of Patty’s friend Monica) and head over to the beach, where, underneath the pier, a bunch of our friends are smoking out. its lame but i give Josh permission to smoke, since he likes to. He declines, and instead he walks with me along the water. The moonlight is so soft, so bright, and it glints off the sparkling surface of the water, sending light in every direction.
Later on we all find ourselves in the Cairo Café. it’s 2am. Jordan, who is a year younger than I, Tiffany and Jorge, who are two years younger than I, are talking about Justin. Maria and David are talking about Frightmare on Market Street. It takes me awhile to realize that Justin and Frightmare on Market Street are the same subject. “What is Frightmare?” I hear someone ask, and I turn in the direction of the voice. it’s Josh. I have just spent 16 hours with Joshy. “It’s this place that opens up around Halloween which has different rooms and is supposed to be a scary house.” He laughs, “Oh.” I say, “I doubt you’d be scared there.” He nods, “i’m not scared of anything.” And I think to myself, cool.
FOUR
It is Saturday, and I have just picked up Dylan from the bus station in Fashion Valley. In the car, I decide its time to tell all.
“You know, Dylan,” I begin, “when I first saw you, I thought you were so handsome. And that’s kind of why I talked to you. I don’t know if I was attracted, I mean you’re not my ideal type. But, I definitely thought you were cute.
“And so we talked. And time went on and we became fast friends. Everytime I introduced you to someone and they liked you or you thought they were cute, I would get really upset. I don’t know if it was jealousy, but it may have been. it’s just that, you and I weren’t established in what we were yet, I mean we were still getting to know one another, and the thought that something would develop between someone I knew and you before you and i had been developed, it bothered me. do you understand so far?”
“Yes,” he says quietly, looking at me from my passenger seat expectantly.
“Well, I’ve come to realize something. You are one of my soulmates. You are meant to be one of my guy best friends. You were the one who once told me that we were meant to do something together, something great, bigger than ourselves.” He had told me that on our way back from the Morrissey concert. “And I agree. I mean, I love you Dylan. But I’ve come to realize I don’t love you romantically.”
I wait for a moment, to let him voice anything he wants to say. He doesn’t say anything, so I sigh and go on.
“I mean, you really aren’t my ideal,” I say. “When I envision the right person for me, I see dark hair.”
“Note to self,” he pipes up, “dye hair dark.” He laughs, and I laugh too.
“And yet I wonder why I was initially attracted to you, and then I realized what it was.”
“What was it?”
“I HAD to find you cute. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have spoken to you to begin with. So its like God matched us together and saw our souls had the right fit, but he knew we wouldn’t let our paths cross very much if there wasn’t some attraction. So he made sure that I would see your physical beauty so I would be drawn to talk to you, but once we started to be friends and realized all the things we had in common, that kind of superficial love would end, and a greater love would take over. And that’s what happened. You’re one of the most important people to me, Dylan. I’m happy you’re in my life, and that we are friends, and can help one another. Do you kind of get it?”
“Yeah,” he said, “God made sure I was cute to you so we would get together, but he also knew that in the end our friendship would be more important to you than anything else. So it’s kind of a destiny thing. He kind of tricked us into being friends.”
“Exactly. God does work in mysterious ways.”
“But you know, Nat,” he said quietly, looking out of the windshield, peering at something nobody could see but him. Maybe he was just staring at his own thoughts formulating in the distance. “I wouldn’t mind it if you liked me. But I do mind,” he stopped, and turned to me, “if we were friends or not.”
“Well we are. But I don’t like you.”
“Okay,” he said. And that was that.