“I know, but weren’t you hoping to do…um…more?”
“We did things we haven’t done before, and it was hot. And we made a plan. Your birthday is only a few weeks away.”
“I know, but I feel bad, like I ruined your New Year’s Eve.”
PJ playfully slaps me on the back of the head. He’s such a good guy. I love watching him while he drives me home. He’s the total opposite of me, so confident and sure of himself. Left hand on the steering wheel, right hand in mine, all the while attempting badly to whistle along to the music. I’m such a Debbie Downer. I need to pull my head out of my ass and get my shit together.
I’m not exactly sure what happened earlier. I was having such a good time too. Rolling around with PJ on Paul’s bed. Skin to skin. Hot breath on my neck. Hands on my… He’s right, it was hot. So, what went wrong? What woke the alien and ruined the moment? Why did the scratching have to start? So much scratching. Could the alien be homophobic? It didn’t seem to like the things PJ and I were doing together. I liked it, but it didn’t. How could I possibly explain this to PJ? What would he think of me? What if I told him the truth—that I believe I’m going to die at 11:22 p.m. and that I have an alien creature living inside me trying to get out? That would be the end of Simon and PJ, that’s for sure. I have no choice; I need to keep this to myself.
Fortunately, Suzi is catching a ride home with Neel and Mags, so it’s just me and PJ in the car. But how sad am I? My first real party. My party that I threw, and I bail early. But I know this is the right thing to do. PJ pulls into a parking space at my apartment building. I start to get out of the car.
“Hold on a minute, Simon,” PJ says. “Before you get out of the car, I have something I want to say to you.”
He takes both of my hands in his.
“Simon, you’re my boyfriend, and I’m crazy about you. But, if you need more time, that’s okay. I’m not upset. Truthfully, we have all the time in the world. There is no need to rush. If sex happens on your birthday, that’s great! It will be an extra special birthday. If not, that’s okay too. All you need to do is let me know when you’re ready, whenever that is. I will still be here. Okay?”
“Okay,” I say, “but believe me, it’s happening on my birthday, for sure! Carole will be in Portland visiting her parents, and we will have the apartment to ourselves. It’s happening!” I lean over and give PJ a quick kiss.
Kids are setting off fireworks as we get out of the car. Dogs bark in an adjacent neighborhood. We head up to my apartment and open the door as quietly as possible. The TV’s on but Carole is fast asleep on the couch, a book splayed across her chest. Sammy is asleep at her feet, and Millie is curled up in the chair. An open bottle of wine sits next to a half-filled glass on the coffee table, and, surprisingly, a torn bag of Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos has spilled several chips across the table. I softly close the door, and we take off our coats. We position ourselves on either side of the couch. PJ and I lock eyes as I count to three on my fingers.
“Happy New Year!” we yell in unison. Carole wakes with a fright, flinging her book across the room in the process. Sammy and Millie scuttle down the hall. PJ and I laugh uncontrollably, and Carole looks like she has seen a ghost.
“Good Lord, Simon. Are you trying to kill me? What time is it anyway? Midnight?”
“Nope,” I say proudly. “It’s a quarter past eleven.”
“What are you doing home so early? Oh no, is something wrong? What’s wrong?”
Carole sits up, and PJ and I take a seat on either side of her like bookends. I top off her wineglass and say, “We came home early to ring in the New Year with you. We didn’t want you to be alone.”
“Oh, you’re so sweet. But you didn’t need to do this. I’m okay, Simon. Truly, I am. You should be with your friends.”
“Carole, where else should I be? I’m with my two very favorite people. You and Pajamas. I want us all to be together tonight. And look…you’ve got Doritos. What more could I ask for?”
“What about Mags? She can’t be too happy about this.”
“Believe me, Mags doesn’t care. She doesn’t even know we’re gone. She found herself a new lady friend and was too busy smooching when PJ and I slipped out.”
“You boys are really the best; thank you. PJ, there is soda in the fridge if you would like to help yourself.”
PJ goes to the kitchen to fetch us some drinks, and I glance over at the clock: 11:20. It’s getting close.
Please don’t let me die on New Year’s Eve before I’ve had sex with my boyfriend!
My heart beats faster, and I fidget in my seat. Of course, right on cue, the alien stirs. But it’s not intense. Perhaps it’s the presence of PJ and Carole. I chow down on a handful of Doritos for some extra distraction.
“Simon, did you not have any food at the party tonight?” Carole asks. “You’re attacking those Doritos like you haven’t eaten for days.”
“Oh, sorry. This is why Mags says I eat like a pale, Jewish…caveman! That’s what she calls me. I’m sorry,” I say again, embarrassed. “Actually, I’m surprised to see you eating Doritos. This is not a Carole-approved snack.”
“Well, strange times, I guess. I found them in the pantry. Your mother bought them. You know she loved her junk food. I just didn’t want them sitting around, and, well, they reminded me of her. Opening them, in a strange way, helped me feel her presence here tonight. It’s stupid, I know.”
“It’s not stupid,” I say. “It makes perfect sense to me.”
PJ returns with drinks for us, and we sit on the couch and watch the huddled masses freeze to death in Times Square waiting for the ball to drop. It’s 11:27. I made it through another night. Looks like I will live to see the new year after all.
“Hey, wake up, you two.” PJ shakes me awake. “It’s almost midnight. The countdown is about to begin.”
