Playing By The Book, page 19
I clicked the print icon on my screen and glanced up at Sam. “Okay. I’ll be ready in five minutes. I just need to change.”
“I’ll wait,” he said, then plopped down on my bed and put his hands behind his head like he was expecting a floorshow. “Why don’t you wear that blue shirt of yours, brah? Blue makes your eyes look like sapphires.”
Did it? Was Sam just making a casual observation or did this mean that he was somehow into me? But who was I kidding—I could never compete with the likes of Joshua.
Taking my clothes off in front of Sam was like taking my clothes off for the first time—and not in a good way. I pulled my shorts down then realized my shoes were still on, so I yanked my shorts off then took off my shoes. Brilliant.
“Nice,” Sam said. “For some reason, I thought you’d be a boxer guy.”
So Sam had thought about me in underwear before. I wondered if that meant anything. My face began to tingle. I turned so my back was to him. Hoping to take the focus off of me, I asked, “So, are you meeting Joshua beforehand?”
“No, we’re meeting there. He’ll, like, show up with his entourage at some point. He always does.”
I pulled on my jeans then buttoned my shirt, starting from the bottom for some reason. When I turned around, Sam was standing so close I could feel his breath. Suddenly, I was tingling all over. I wanted to throw him back on the bed and give him the Janet Walters once-over but looked down, afraid my eyes would betray me. “Wow, we’d better get going,” I said, while nervously rubbing my wrist.
Sam unbuttoned my top button then tapped my chin.
“How much, brah?” he asked.
“How much for what?” I asked, not knowing what he was referring to.
“How much did you pay for that perfect dimpled chin?”
I let out a little laugh, wondering if he was flirting with me, and not really knowing what to do about it if he was, since Sam was dating Joshua. I flushed the thought from my mind as I grabbed the sermon from my printer and tucked it in my pocket. “Okay, let’s go, sir,” I said.
Julie spared no expense turning the dining room of her apartment into a dance floor, complete with a lighted mirrored ball and fog machine. Most of my classmates were there along with kids I didn’t recognize. Raj made up pitchers of Blue Lions, which were a big hit, and he was chatting up a gorgeous blonde who kept flicking her hair around like a show pony.
Two guys, each named Todd, threw back their drinks then Julie motioned them over to dance. Sam and Julie joined the Todds, who started making out on the dance floor.
That left me alone at the bar, sipping a Coca-Cola while the reality of tomorrow morning’s sermon flitted around my head like a fly at a picnic. I should’ve just stayed home and practiced the blasted thing. After I blew that last sermon, The Preacher just slapped my back and said that everyone has had a bad day. He told me how he’d completely blown his speech as high school class speaker but didn’t let that keep him from pursuing the ministry. He said there was a blessing for me in there someplace, but even he seemed to have trouble finding it.
Maybe I really did just have a bad day back in April, but blowing two sermons in a row would be a trend.
I pulled the sermon from my pocket. In it, The Preacher had written that as Christians, our joy doesn’t have to be tied to our circumstances (I hoped I could say that line with a straight face). Fortunately, the sermon was only about ten pages long and lighter than most sermons The Preacher had written for me in the past. I’d just stay at the party a few more minutes then sneak out and practice it back at the dorm.
Sam saluted me from the dance floor while Julie kept motioning for me to join them. Even the Todds were egging me on. I just waved them aside. I wasn’t really “out” at school and didn’t feel comfortable dancing with Julie and three gay guys. No sense rushing it—I’d just ease into this gay thing, take it one step at a time.
I was thinking about that when Joshua appeared. “Hey, Jake!” he said. He stepped aside and plucked one of three guys from the entourage standing behind him. “You remember Ryan?”
It was the kid I’d made out with at Heaven Bar.
My cheeks suddenly burned. Ryan was the last person I expected to see here. “Oh, um, hey Ryan,” I said timidly.
“Hey, Raj,” Ryan said, bunching up a corner of his mouth sarcastically.
I shook my head and sighed but couldn’t help checking out his form-fitting aqua T-shirt. “I’m Jake, actually.”
Joshua smiled knowingly and walked away, leaving Ryan and me alone. Ryan must’ve thought I was some kind of nut case after my big outing at Heaven, so I was surprised that he was still interested.
I tucked the sermon into my pocket. “Sorry, man. That was—that was a rough night for me.”
He dismissed the remark with a wave. “Listen, no explanation needed. At least we got the chance to meet. Wanna drink?”
That was awfully nice of him, but I had to get to the sermon. Plus, I wasn’t sure I wanted to get caught up with a guy like Ryan. He seemed to be pretty trampy, although he sure was handsome. “No, thanks. I’ve got to get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow.”
“Oh, c’mon. One drink. Can’t you stick around for ten more minutes?”
I reconsidered. I was sick of being the PK, living life on the outside. I wondered how it would feel to just join in for once and be a part of the group? I could simply take a couple of sips and then leave. Besides, it wasn’t the first time I’d had alcohol.
“Sure!” I said.
Halfway through our second Blue Lion, Ryan asked me to dance.
The idea of dancing with a guy seemed strange, like eating raw fish. I still wasn’t up for that in front of my classmates, not even after two Blue Lions. “Oh, I’m not a big dancer,” I said.
He moved in like he wanted to kiss me, causing that gooeyness inside me to bubble up, but I stepped back and took another sip, not wanting my friends to see.
Ryan didn’t seem too happy about that. He tipped back his drink and looked around the room, like he was ready to move on to someone else. I figured I had to say something.
“Ryan, I’d love to, but my friends, you know?”
He placed his hand on the small of my back and leaned in. “My parents are out of town this weekend,” he whispered. “Want to go back to my place?”
I thought back to Heaven and our first kiss—whisker against whisker, his thick arms wrapped around me. A wave of heat flashed through me and at that moment I would’ve sold my soul to kiss a guy even half as hot as Ryan. Besides, I’d be back in Tarsus in a couple of weeks and might not get a chance like this again until college.
“Okay,” I said, wondering if I could actually go through with it. I could still change my mind once we got downstairs.
Ryan smiled and quickly finished the rest of his drink.
I did the same.
He grabbed my hand to lead me through the crowd, but I pulled it back and walked a few steps behind him.
“Whatcha guys up to?” Sam asked, appearing out of nowhere.
“We’re heading doubt, I mean, out.” I said, correcting myself.
Ryan cackled. “You’re wasted, man!”
“Am not,” I said, rubbing my face, but I could hear myself slurring. I decided to speak slowly and really enunciate my words so it wouldn’t show so much.
“I’m leaving too,” Sam said almost impulsively. “Wanna share a cab uptown?”
I fished through my pocket and handed him my white Columbia security card. “I’m going out with Ryan. Yes, you can have the room, just scan me in, okay?” I winked then popped him on the shoulder, feeling like one of the guys. I thought I was being clever, but he didn’t laugh.
At the elevators, Ryan pushed the call button, then smiled at me. He looked like an angel with his wispy brown hair and sparkling white teeth. Where were we going again? Oh, right: his place. Maybe I’d spring for a taxi.
We hopped onto the elevator and, as the doors shut, I looked up to see Sam standing there all alone, looking somewhere between confused and disappointed. Well, he wasn’t the only one allowed to have some fun. I was one of the boys too.
Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.
“Shut that off, man,” I heard someone say.
My eyes opened. The morning light danced on the room’s gray walls in time with the swaying blinds at the window. The cinnamon scent from the spent candle on the nightstand brought everything screaming back to me. It had finally happened—and I had known exactly what to do with my hands. What was it that Ryan had said? Oh yeah, he couldn’t believe it was my first time. That made me feel like a freakin’ rock star. I wished we had time to go another round but I had a sermon to preach. I couldn’t wait to get that behind me. Afterwards, I needed to work on my final project, but maybe Ryan and I could get together for dinner.
Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep. Beep-beep-beep.
“Raj or Jake or whatever your name is, shut that off!”
I hit every button on the alarm clock until the thing stopped beeping. I had to go—it was just after seven, and I had to be at church well before the eleven o’clock service.
Travel time to Columbia was probably thirty minutes, then it would take at least an hour to get out to Brooklyn. I’d barely have time to shower and change, but I could read through the sermon on the subway. Heck, I could even practice preaching on the subway. I’d fit right in—people preached and sang and did all kinds of sideshows on the New York subway all the time.
My mouth was bone dry and my head felt like I was wearing a hat about ten sizes too small. It could only be one thing—a hangover—but nothing could spoil the moment of waking up next to a guy for the first time. I kissed him quick and whispered, “I’ve got to go, but maybe we could get together later?”
“Let me see how my day goes,” he said sleepily without even opening his eyes.
I nodded then tossed off the covers and rolled out of bed. I turned my briefs right side out and about fell putting them on. “I’m such a klutz!” I said, chuckling.
But Ryan was already on his way back to sleep. We hadn’t even exchanged numbers. “Hey, let’s do dinner tonight,” I said.
Ryan scrunched his eyes tighter. “I’ve got a busy day, so can we keep it loose?”
For someone who couldn’t keep his hands off me last night, he suddenly seemed pretty noncommittal, but he was probably hungover too.
As I buttoned my shirt, I noticed the paper cut on my right index finger. It was half an inch long and red from end to end. I thought back to my sex education class and remembered that you should assume anyone you sleep with is HIV-positive. HIV could be contracted through the skin, but only if there was an open wound. Trouble was, I didn’t see a scab on the paper cut, which meant it was an open wound.
I turned on the bedside lamp and put my finger under it.
Ryan stirred. “Do you mind?”
“S-sorry—just one second,” I said, running a finger over the paper cut. I’d completely forgotten about it. Even under the light, I didn’t see a scab.
God’s answer to the gay agenda is AIDS! The Preacher’s voice rang in my ears.
My insides suddenly felt hollow, like my blood and flesh and hopes and dreams had all vanished.
“C’mon man,” Ryan said. “I’m trying to get some sleep.”
I switched off the light. “Ryan, can I ask…are you HIV-negative?”
He didn’t say anything.
I knelt down on the bed and touched his shoulder. “Ryan, are you—”
“Yes!” he shouted without opening his eyes.
My heart hiccupped. “Yes you’re negative or—”
“Yes, I’m negative. Can I please get some sleep now?”
He didn’t sound that convincing. People lied about stuff like this all the time.
I pulled away and stepped into my jeans. “So, when was the last time you were tested?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a year ago. Don’t freak out, man. We barely did anything.”
Barely anything?! We did a lot and would’ve done even more if I hadn’t put on the brakes.
A wave of fear pummeled me so hard that I suddenly felt dizzy. I studied my finger, trying to remember all the rules about what’s safe and what’s not. But as Mrs. Gruen put it in sex education class: “The only thing that’s completely safe is abstinence.”
I finished getting dressed, nodded goodbye, and marched out the bedroom door.
There was only one person I wanted to see.
At 116th Street, I felt awful for phoning Raj to ask that he meet me at the wormhole, but I had no other choice since I’d given my security card to Sam and couldn’t walk through the front door without it. Raj didn’t seem too happy about coming down, but moments after I arrived, the door clanged open ever so slightly. I scurried inside.
Back in the dorm room, Alexandros was fast asleep in my bed. I grabbed my backpack, tiptoed into the bathroom, closed the door, and turned on the light. I removed the travel-sized bottle of hand sanitizer from my backpack and popped the top. If the cut stung from the sanitizer, then I would know it was an open wound.
God-please-don’t-let-this-thing-sting-in-Jesus-name-Amen.
I squirted the fluid on my index finger and waited. I didn’t feel a sting. I DIDN’T FEEL A STING!
I had to be sure though.
I rubbed my damp index finger and thumb together to simulate the activities of last night. Suddenly, my finger was on fire. Did my finger sting last night? There were huge gaps in my memory, I couldn’t know for sure.
At that point, my heart was in full gallop. I had to see Sam. He was the only one who could help.
I knocked on the second bathroom door, leading to his room. I knew I was probably killing the moment for him and Joshua but this couldn’t wait.
No one answered, so I tried the knob and walked right in.
The room was dark with a hint of Sam’s grapefruit cologne. Hearing me enter, he rose up in his bed on one elbow. “Jake? Everything okay?”
“Thank God you’re here.” I held up my finger. “I thought I was being safe with that Ryan guy, but I forgot about this paper cut.”
“I’m not following you, brah.”
“It’s an open wound. What if I got HIV from Ryan?”
Sam yawned. “Is he positive? Wait, infection through a paper cut? That would take, like, a miracle.”
“You saw how that thing bled yesterday. I just tested it. It’s red. Red is blood, right?” I walked over so he could get a good look at the cut. “See?”
“You need to chill, Jake. First of all, you can only get infected if your partner is positive,” he said, like I was an idiot.
I’d studied all this in sex education class. My finger was red. Red meant blood. HIV infects people by entering the bloodstream through body secretions like Ryan’s semen, and there was no way I didn’t get some on my finger.
“Ryan hasn’t been tested in over a year, and he’s as big a tramp as you!”
Sam smirked. “Look, I wasn’t the one who tricked out last night.”
I let out a big sigh. “God, you’re right.”
“I’m so lame—I’m sorry, brah.”
“No, I deserve it. I’m supposed to preach in a couple of hours, but I’m hungover and the thought of what I did with Ryan last night makes me want to puke.” It really did. How could I stand up before that congregation and preach when I was a bigger fraud than ever?
Sam sat up and switched on his light. “Let me see that paper cut again.”
I sat next to him with my finger under the lamp. “See, there’s no scab.”
“So?”
“So that makes it an open wound. How could I be so stupid?”
“Jake, you were just having fun. It’s fine. Relax.”
I stared at my finger, feeling hopeless and stupid. “I might as well face it.”
He let out a long sigh. “Okay, there’s something we can do. Just in case. But we have to act now. Sam tossed his comforter aside and jumped out of bed wearing light blue briefs.
Even in my frazzled state, I couldn’t help but stare.
He stepped over to his laptop. “Go get ready. You’ll feel better if you take a shower and put on some fresh clothes. I’ll, like, need a few minutes to find an HIV testing center that’s open on a Sunday morning.”
“A what?”
“Just get ready,” Sam ordered. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
CHAPTER 17
Within half an hour, Sam and I were in a taxi, high-tailing it downtown. He researched my situation on his smartphone’s web browser while I closed my eyes and braced myself for the call I’d put off as long as I could. I hated that I’d have to lie to my dad, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t tell him that I was headed for an emergency HIV test.
“Hey, Preacher,” I said in my raspiest voice.
“It’s your big day, son! You ready?”
“Dad, I’m just not feeling well—I don’t think I can preach.” I was hoping by some miracle he’d buy that explanation and I wouldn’t have to get behind the pulpit that morning, but I’d worn a suit and tie and brought my sermon just in case I did.
“Do you have a fever?” he asked.
“I haven’t checked, but it sure feels like I do.” The lie made me feel even worse. I forced a cough to help make my case.
“Jake, Brother Watson’s depending on you. Are you feeling so sick that you can’t do this?”
Even with the hangover, I wouldn’t call myself sick, but I was in no shape—physically, emotionally, spiritually or morally—to deliver a sermon that morning.
“I can’t help it, Preacher. He sure doesn’t want what I’ve got, neither does his congregation.”
“Son, all you got here is a bad case of nerves. Just hand this over to the Lord, and I’ll be praying for you too. You’ll do great. You’re a fine preacher—it runs in the family.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Call me afterwards.”
