Just imagine having a friend who constantly tries to drag you out of bed and to the cold beach at painfully early hours of the morning, but actually loving that he does that.
Alexander’s a nonconformist in his own way, is all I’m saying.
“You’ve been up so late every night working on your show,” he says, waving his fork in the air to dismiss any apology. “I haven’t even considered waking you up for the beach.”
I take a little piece of tempeh off his plate. “Much appreciated. And speaking of having more free time.” I gently clear my throat. “Are you going to call Davis today?”
Alexander laughs and turns his eyes away. “Why do you want me to call Davis so bad?”
“Because it’s my responsibility to make sure you don’t wither away. Ayla and Matty and everyone agrees. We’ve talked about this.”
It’s usually a fine line, trying to encourage Alexander to date someone. He needs space to decide to go for it on his own terms. Otherwise, he’ll get in his head and call the whole thing off. But honestly, if I didn’t try to push him out the door sometimes, I swear he’d get lost in his books and never even consider looking for a date.
When I see a soft flush on his cheeks, though, I can tell he’s at least a little interested in Davis.
“God, don’t say I’m withering away, though,” Alexander objects with a laugh. “Don’t put it that way.”
“Sorry.” I push my glasses up, then reach out and rub his arm. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”
He relaxes with a smile. “No, it’s fine.”
I stop short of saying,so, you’ll call him then?and instead switch topics by asking about the books he’s reading. Alexander gets perky again, telling me about a biography of Sal Mineo, and I make a note to return to the Davis topic later.
Sometimes, I am a bit relieved when he doesn’t follow through with a potential date. There’s a part of me that thinks Alexander and I could go our whole lives just like we are, and we’d probably be two of the happiest people in the world. But I also know that, unlike me, he hasn’t sworn off relationships, and he’s not the kind to go out and find a random hookup, either.
Eventually, one of those dates he goes on will turn into something more. I’m not delusional; I realize that will change our friendship. We won’t be living our weird Rafael-and-Alexander life in our cute little apartment anymore.
Just because this is good, I’m not naïve enough to think it will last forever.
I hope my friend falls for someone who doesn’t mind if he lays in bed and watches old sci-fi movies with me sometimes. I’m not quite sure what I’d do if I had to give that much of my friendship with Alexander up. It makes me feel shaky and weird whenever I consider it.
Anyway, I try to be an optimist. And as far as I can remember, Davis had no weird jealousy, back when he and Alexander first dated.
After breakfast, I hop in the shower, and when I get out, Alexander has cleaned the kitchen already. We chat a little more, neither of us in a hurry. I consider bringing up the lack of sales at the show, which is still distracting me, but hesitate and then don’t.
Confession: sometimes I feel a little self-conscious about the fact that I would literally fall apart without Alexander.
I have afternoon plans with our friends Matty and Stone, so a little after noon, I hop on my bike and take a ride across the city. The sun is hot on my arms and legs, and the sidewalks are full of people enjoying the day. I’m back in the T-shirt from my show because I’m trying to take Alexander’s words from last night to heart. I just had my own art show, and even if it bankrupts me, I’m pretty damn proud of it.
Matty and his boyfriend Stone are artists, like me. Matty makes stop motion animation, and Stone is a tattoo artist. They’re both incredibly skilled. Anytime I see new work, I’m beyond impressed. When I get to their place, they’re in the backyard. Matty has a studio there, and the door to the squat little building is wide open while he messes around inside. Stone sits on the grass, playing with their new gray rescue Staffy, Muffin.
“Hey,” I say quickly, waving. I hop off my bike and remove my helmet, then give them each a hug. Matty I’ve known for years, which means I’ve spent years watching his hair change colors. “Love the electric purple,” I tell him.
He pushes his hand through his hair with a flourish. “Me, too,” he laughs.
Stone chuckles and rubs the back of his partner’s head. “I dyed it for him,” he says. “Only took a couple years to convince him to let me try.”
“It’s very difficult to get the color right,” Matty says with mock offense. “And you know how important my hair is.”
I grin, then give Stone a hug. “Well, you did fantastic.”
“Says the man of the hour. I’m still high off how good that show was.”
Stone is tall enough that I lean up on my toes to hug him. His long arms are covered in dark tattoos, and he has a really relaxed, chill vibe that beautifully complements Matty’s bouncy energy.
Stone can be kind of deadpan, but that just makes the enthusiasm of his compliment all the more meaningful.
After greeting Muffin and taking a peek at Matty’s latest puppet creations for his new film, a heist featuring anthropomorphic snails and turtles, we all get comfortable in lawn chairs under the shade of an old tree, Muffin rolling at our feet.
