Mac woke up in Gideon’s arms. Gideon nuzzled his chin into the crook of Mac’s neck. His chest hair bristled against Mac’s back.
It was going to be a good morning, a good day, good week, good everything. For the first time since being back in Pittsburgh, Mac felt hopeful. He filled up his lungs with stuffy hotel room air. The smell of sex lingered in the room.
Mac replayed last night, particularly the part when he had sex with Gideon. It was better than he imagined, because it meant something to the both of them. He wasn’t alone anymore. It was like Aunt Rita had this all arranged, and she really was winking from heaven above.
“Morning,” Gideon groaned. He pulled Mac backward into a kiss. The first signs of his stubble burned Mac’s cheeks. Gideon’s stubble came back barely a day after shaving. Mac found it undeniably hot.
“You called yourself really, really gay last night,” Mac said, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
“Well, considering what I had done just moments before, was it really a surprise?” He had that growly voice of just waking up. Mac felt himself pitching a tent in their lovely hotel bed.
“I’m proud of you, Gideon.” Mac stroked his hand. “I know that wasn’t easy.”
“Well, you’re the first person I’ve said that to, so I still have a ways to go.” Gideon leaned on his side to face Mac. “What I went through is nothing compared to what you had to endure in West Virginia.”
The tent collapsed. Mac gulped back a lump in his throat. He didn’t want West Virginia anywhere near this bed. He kissed Gideon, putting their conversation on hold for the foreseeable future.
Gideon’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. Mac tried to pull him back, but nobody could ever resist that siren call. iPhones were more addictive than heroin.
“I’ll just let it roll to voicemail.” Gideon turned around to get his phone, and in two seconds, he was out of bed. He gasped at his stark naked body and scrambled to find his boxers. Mac watched this scene with some amusement.
Gideon clicked on the phone. “Hey Mom, can you give me a second? Yeah, yeah, just one second.” He held the phone to his chest. “I’m talking to my mom while I’m naked!”
His eyes had the familiar panic of their first meeting as freshmen. Gideon darted around the hotel room, searching frantically for his boxers while his phone was pressed into the crook of his neck.
“Yeah, Mom. Sorry, one second. I just need one more second. I was coming out of the bathroom from brushing my teeth and I have the coffee maker going. I just need to shut it off so I don’t burn the place down.”
Mac pointed to Gideon’s boxers, hanging off the desk lamp. Gideon pressed his hands together as if he were praying and mouthed “Thank You.”
“No, Mom. I don’t have class this morning…yeah, well I do have that class but it was cancelled because my professor has a stomach bug…yeah, I think it’s food poisoning.” He sat in the desk chair and tried to put his boxers on, but his arm couldn’t stretch because there was a phone connected to it.
“Hey, Mom. I’m going to put you on speakerphone for one second. I just need to do something with both hands for one second. Okay, you still there?”
Gideon gave Mac the quiet hand signal popular with all librarians. He placed the phone on the desk carefully, took a quick breath, and put Mama Saperstein on speakerphone.
“Mom, you still there?”
“Hello? Gideon, can you still hear me?” His mom’s heavy New York accent was like listening to a cartoon character for Mac.
“Yeah, Mom.” Gideon yanked on his boxers, and then his jeans with such intensity that Mac thought they were going to rip.
“I’m getting an echo. Do you hear that?”
“Mom, that’s speakerphone.”
“So what kind of stomach bug does your professor have? The temperature is dropping, and I don’t want you getting sick again so soon after your brother’s wedding. Are you bringing hand sanitizer to class with you? I saw this special onDateline, and you know what has the most germs?”
Gideon took her off speakerphone and put the phone to his ear. “What, Mom?...Oh, really?” He put the phone to his chest and mouthed “doorknobs” to Mac.
That made sense.
“I think he just got food poisoning…no, he doesn’t eat at our dining halls. I don’t know what he ate. I don’t actually know if it’s food poisoning. That’s just a guess.”
Mac reminded himself to stock up on hand sanitizer before he took the bus home. He was curious what restaurant Gideon’s professor ate at, but then he remembered that this was all complete fiction. Gideon should’ve majored in creative writing because he knew how to tell a story.
Gideon sat on the edge of the bed. “Yeah, Mom. I’m fine…no, I haven’t spoken to Noah. I will.” Mac wrapped his arms around Gideon, and his body tensed underneath. “He said that? Okay. I’ll call him this week. Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”
Gideon got off the bed and stood by the closet, across the room. “If I was in a funk, I would tell you. If something was really wrong, I wouldn’t hide it from you. Actually, Mom, I need to run. I’m scrambling some eggs, and they’re starting to burn. We’ll talk later, okay? I love you.”
