“Oh, Cupcake. It’s important that you feel comfortable and be yourself.” I pulled him into the house by the hand and sat him on the couch.
“I wish I got a t-shirt from the store we went to last week. Something black with a good band on it you could vouch for.” He shot his hand into his pocket and crinkled the wrappers of the lollipops I assumed were there.
“They may have a shop at the entrance, but they usually sell merch after the concert.” I straddled his thighs and put his hands on my hips. His reaction was immediate as he met my gaze and released a breath. After not seeing him for several days, looking at his face up close reminded me how gorgeous he was, that it was not my horny imagination late at night conjuring images of this perfect man.
“I guess nothing of yours would fit my big ass.”
“Big, bouncy, and so fuckable.” I flicked his nose with mine and reveled in seeing a blush spring to his cheeks. “Your wide shoulders won’t fit any of my—No, wait. One second!” I skipped to my bedroom and pulled out an oversized Bad Religion t-shirt from my closet. With a triumphant “Ha!” I presented it to Trent.
Trent stood up, looked at it then me. “Is this your ex-partner’s or something?” He narrowed his eyes, not accepting the garment.
“Nope.” I lifted to my tiptoes and kissed his nose. “I sleep in it but it’s washed and clean for you.”
“Pity, I’d love to smell you on it.” The casual way he said such heartwarming stuff proved how natural he was at blurting out the truth. I rarely did that, except that one time I’d almost told him I loved him. That night I’d lain in my bed and analyzed my past relationships and how deep into a relationship I had said those big words. That wasn’t a confession I’d casually throw on the wind to a person I’ve been dating. Then it had occurred to me—I’d told my parents I loved them, and my closest friends, butnot any of my partners. Did my subconscious catch up to what my heart was up to sooner than my conscious mind? I cared about Trent, as a friend with experimenting benefits, but was I already in love?
I showed the thought aside to ponder later.
For now, I’d show him my kind of entertainment and see if he could stand it. We were so different. Being a couple makes little sense in theory, but in practice, Trent made me feel that anything was possible.
Trent shed his jersey, flashing a set of abs I sadly had no time to lick, and exchanged it for the t-shirt. “It fits.” He did a Julie Andrews inThe Sound Of Musictwirl as if he was the happiest ever, dancing on a hill.
“You look great in it, and it goes well with your cargo shorts.” I smoothed the t-shirt with both hands, sliding them down theSufferalbum cover print with a boy on fire. Then I reached under, touching the warm skin of his hips and along the waistband of his pants.
“They’re my work gear and the best I could find in my closet for the occasion. And the Kobe shoes are black at least.” He spoke of a punk concert as if it was a wedding with special instructions for what to wear.
“Well, you look like a proper rocker now. And the eighties vibe of those shoes is awesome.”
“Do I need eyeliner?”
“No, you’re fine.” I chuckled and ushered him to the door. “I’m not wearing any today.”
“Okay.” He lifted his hand, and I put mine in his as if we were going to prom. I guess it was the closest we had. As we took the T’s Green Line to the Kenmore stop, that thought kept bouncing in my head. In many ways, I was glad Trent and I reconnected when I was living as my true self, but some days, I wondered ifwe’d remain friends if I’d stayed in Myrtle Falls. We definitely wouldn’t have gone to the prom together after my transition.
“Did you like prom?” I asked. “I missed so much after I left, now I want to know all the important moments in your life until now. Prom is always such a big deal.”
Trent pursed his lips, thinking. “It was okay.”
Not the reaction I’d expected. Something more positive or emotional maybe? “Who did you go with? Though I probably wouldn’t know many people from your highschool.”
“Most of our class from elementary school attended Truman High with me. You forget how small our town is.” He shook his head, but I was glad to see no distress in his features. “I went to prom with Mary Lindon.”
“The blonde who lived three houses over?” I recalled the girl always wearing flowery dresses, even when we’d ridden bikes outside.
“Yeah. She had chemistry with me and helped me prepare for tests. She was never mean to me when I was an awkward chubby kid.” He waved a hand when I wanted to protest, and continued. “So when I was hitting the gym daily, and girls saw me as a piece of meat, I asked her to prom instead. She was always very pretty, and for prom everyone went all-in, so she looked stunning in a peach dress. I wore a tux, got flowers and a corsage for her and all that.”
“That sounds magical. I’d love to see a pic of you in a tux.” I elbowed him playfully. “How did it go?”
“As expected.” He shrugged, his face revealing only mild excitement about the event. “We danced, had some of the horrid punch, then went to Chad’s house party and had sex. I loved it. Probably a bit too much. You know.” He grimaced. “But then we did it again, and she told me what to do so I could get better at it. We fucked the entire summer after that until she left to attend Georgia State in Atlanta.”
“Sounds like you had a great time. You haven’t considered staying in a long-distance relationship?”
“Nah. What we had wasn’t love. Although I didn’t know it back then.” He released a dry chuckle. “I knew she would leave, so it was an expected heartbreak. We taught each other a lot, getting sweaty in her room when her parents were at work. And after that, I had girls all over me. Bedroom gossip traveled fast, and I also put on more muscle working on Old Man’s Hogan’s farm, so that didn’t hurt either. But it was a bit weird. None of the girls ever stayed with me long. Like I was good for fucking, but not much else.”
“Are you kidding? They didn’t know what they lost. And I’m happy for it.” I hooked my arm through his. “Cause now I can drag you to concerts with me.” I kissed his cheek, wishing I could have been there for him even as a friend between those flings. “This is our stop.”
We got off at Kenmore and walked up Brookline Avenue towards Fenway Park, joining the crowd in blacks, greens, and similar Dropkick Murphys T-shirts to the one I had on.
Trent crunched a lollipop in his teeth and fished in his pocket for another.
