Chapter Five

JULIAN

February 11, 1990

This has been one of the best weekends I've ever had in my life. School is going better than I expected it to. And well, Grayson has made me one of the happiest boys alive. Not only has he helped me so much in History, but I'm also learning everything there is to know about American culture. It's funny that they think a place like Taco Bell is considered Mexican food. Although Mexican food is still a little different than what we're used to making in Puerto Rico, Grayson seems to really enjoy the place he calls ‘fast-food.'

On Friday after school, he drove me there in a truck his mom gave him for his sixteenth birthday. He said it wasn't new, but it was better than taking the bus or walking. When we arrived, the smell of chili powder was so strong, I could've tasted it from a mile down the road. I ordered something called an enchirito and a taco. We didn't have to wait long before our food was already being passed out to us up at the counter. Grayson carried the tray, while I hauled his book bag to a booth next to a window so we could study for our History test next week.

He took a bite from a burrito, as sauce dripped from his chin, and all down his neck.

"You've got some sauce," I said while pointing towards his neck. "Here."

He bowed his head to glance down at his shirt, which just caused a bigger mess above his collar. I took a napkin and reached over the table so I could wipe his neck clean, but stopped before my hand touched his chin. He gave me a weird look, but not a bad one. If I had to put words in his mouth, I swear they would have said ‘It's okay, go ahead.' It seemed the music playing in the restaurant stopped playing in a pure moment of silence. Then I slid the napkin from the base of his mouth all down his neck.

What happened next took me by surprise. He took my hand and appeared to be giving it a sniff as if I had lotion on, but I didn't. Just regular soap from my shower that morning. A few seconds later, the music seemed to drown the quiet and we returned to chapter fourteen of our textbook about the Bill of Rights. We continued talking about slavery and the Thirteenth Amendment.

After we drank our weight in Pepsi, Grayson convinced me to go with him on a little trip. Since it was still light outside, I knew mamá wouldn't be worried about me not being home until it was dark. He drove me out past the cemetery with a large field of grass and a long stream.

"I come out here to catch crawfish all the time," he said. "It's my quiet place when I just need to get outta my head."

He took my hand and walked me down a hill which took us to the bank of the stream. In his other hand, he carried a bucket with a screen that closed over the top of it.

"The key to finding them is to search along the bottoms where there are larger rocks," he said. "And don't be surprised—they can pinch you just like a lobster—so be careful."

Although seafood is so popular back home, I don't really like it as much. So, I've never eaten lobster. I prefer to stick with a juicy strip of beef. But the fact I was on the search for something that could pinch me was very intimidating. Grayson got down on his knees and went elbow deep into the creek while I carefully kneeled beside him, too scared to stick my hands in the water.

"Don't be shy, Julian, it doesn't hurt too much," he tried to assure me while turning his head in my direction for a brief glimpse at my fright.

I shook my head. "I don't know."

"Here we go!" He shouted with a look of satisfaction.

Grayson pulled out his first crawfish catch, which absolutely looked like a very tiny lobster. He waved it in front of my face before I quickly leapt up to my feet to back away as if it was about to attack me.

"Oh come on," Grayson laughed. "It's just a little bitty thing."

Yeah, a little bitty thing that could kill me. After a second of standing in fear, I found myself running up the hillside while he chased me from behind and taunted me with the small creature. I didn't imagine I'd spend hours after school being chased by the one boy who I have the biggest crush on. Let alone something so tiny, that if it did pinch me, it may hurt no more than a paper cut. But I can't complain about spending time with Grayson. If I had a choice, I'd want him around me all the time. There's just something about the energy he gives off.

Halfway up the hill, I stumbled on a rock and fell amidst the cold patch of dead grass. Grayson put the crawfish in his bucket and lowered to his knees with a huge grin on his face. O Deus meus, if only I knew what he was thinking all the time. In the last month or so of getting acquainted, I can tell he's selective with his words. But if there's one thing about me, I can be extroverted around some people. And Grayson is one of them.

He laid on his back next to me while we stared up into the sky at a group of clouds. It wasn't dark yet, but I could tell it was getting close to dinner time. Grayson broke the silence a few minutes later.

"I'm glad your parents chose to move to Felton," he said with a near whisper.

Hearing him mutter those words sent my heart back into overdrive. It was the confirmation I've been waiting to receive for a month. I felt wanted, and that's something I don't feel very often. My mamá loves me. But I can tell there's something about my parents that makes me cautious. If I told them I'm in love with a boy, I just know they would flip out. They're Catholic and the word ‘gay'—if that's what I am—is not welcome in the church.

I felt Grayson's hand creeping through the patch of grass to touch mine. Almost as if it knew exactly what to do, I welcomed his touch and gripped it tightly.

"I don't know what I'd do here without you," I replied. "You're kinda like my bodyguard."

He turned his head to look straight at me. I could feel the weight of his stare, so I slid my head on its side also. We gazed at each other for several minutes, while sounds from the babbling creek whooshed past us. His eyes were a lighter shade of freshly brewed coffee. And if they were any sign of what he tasted like, I wanted so bad to lean in and find out.

"O Deus meus," I said out loud before I slithered over to climb on top of him. I wiped my thumb away from the corners of his left eye and studied his reaction. It was as if he surrendered his every last thought and feeling over to me. The twinkle in his stare was all I needed to know that it was okay to plant my lips against his. But Grayson practically read my mind. With no time wasted, he reached his hand around my neck and pulled my head down closer to his.

The kiss. It lasted for so long. His lips tasted savory, from the Taco Bell earlier that afternoon. It was more than I was expecting, that's for sure. Being my first time kissing someone besides mamá, I've only seen it in movies. But the actors on TV aren't there in the room with you. And they certainly aren't Grayson Welles.

"I really like you, Julian Torres," he said while he stroked my face which hovered above his.

I swallowed whatever liquid had built up inside my mouth. "I like you too, Grayson Welles."

We laid there for what seemed like forever. His hands traveled up and down my body and I did the same. Feeling another person is a unique experience and I can't describe it in just a few words. It's like you're taking notes of their every feature. The location of every bone and muscle, and the rhythm of their heartbeat. Or how many breaths they let in and out within a minute's time. That was the first moment when my brain convinced me that I'm not a freak. It just felt right.

We knew it was time to go home once the crickets started chirping. And another Americanism concludes, ‘we'd better be home before the last streetlight turns on.' The ride back through town stirred a world of thoughts. I wondered what excuse I'd give mamá. I might be eighteen, but I'm still in school and living under their roof. Grayson reached across the long seat and grabbed my hand while he steered the wheel with his left hand.

Since he'd never been to my house before, I gave him directions, telling him to take a right on Tamarack Street from Pine. The thought of my mamá standing out on the porch crossed my mind. I wondered if I should've had him drop me off on the corner, so she wouldn't see me climb down from his hunter-green 1977 Ford F-150. But that thought was too late. Sure enough, she'd been waiting outside with her arms crossed as suspected.

"Wanna hang out tomorrow?" I asked him before I opened my door. I figured he probably would, since our friendship turned a major corner that night.

"I can when I clock out of work," he replied. "Pick you up just after three, and we'll go see that movie Megan was talking about."

I smiled as big as I could while stepping out onto our dirt driveway and gave mamá a kiss on her cheek. She asked me who the boy was, and I told her he's just a friend from school who is helping me with U.S. History. It seemed like she bought it, but I didn't give any other details beyond his assistance.

Yesterday afternoon took forever to come. Although I got all my homework done for the weekend, my mind kept constantly drifting off to what Grayson was thinking about while at work. He bags groceries at the supermarket, so I had hoped he didn't drop too many things while thinking of me and our amazing afternoon on Friday. As soon as three in the afternoon came, the butterflies in my stomach began fluttering around and my body tingled with excitement.

I told mamá I was meeting a group of friends from school at the movie theater. That we were going to see some action film called "Hard to Kill," when really, it was just going to be Grayson and I seeing a movie all the girls at school were talking about called, "Steel Magnolias." I asked her if I could have five dollars to pay for my ticket and thankfully, she agreed.

The very minute his truck pulled into our driveway, I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. Grayson smiled while I climbed into the seat. He didn't even take the time to remove his work apron with the cartoon pig's head. He looked relieved to be off work. Or maybe it was just his excitement to see me. We talked about his day on the ride to the movie theater, and I told him I'd already finished my homework.

Once downtown, we pulled into the theater. I retrieved the money from my pocket as we approached the box office window. Grayson lowered my arm and insisted on paying. The movie was his idea, he claimed.

Since the movie came out a few months ago, only a few other people were scattered around the theater. I reached over to grab Grayson's hand while the characters sat and gossiped in the beauty salon. With the light of the screen shining down in our faces, I leaned over to Grayson's right shoulder. He twisted his head and reached his arm around my backside. It didn't matter what drama unfolded in the movie, feeling his lips over mine while he stroked my shoulder was all the action I cared about.

He let out a moan and fidgeted in his seat as if he'd gotten a cramp in his leg. But there it was, our second kiss. And it felt even better than our first. His tongue knows its way around a boy's mouth. Which makes me wonder if he's had plenty of practice.