Page 31 of Summer of the Boy

Chapter Seven

My parents and sisters have left for the day. Ridley knew it. Apparently my mother made sure to tell him in Rid’s words, “like fifty times” before he hung up with her to call Amanda.

My mother, the matchmaker. Repairing relationships far and wide.

Really though, I can’t deny I’m glad they’re gone. Rid and I need some just Rid and Leif time.

We’d stopped off to grab a couple of pizzas on the way home. A couple bottled waters in hand later and we end up in my room upstairs, sprawled across my bed. I put a movie on my laptop.

He methodically picks off the toppings, starting with mushrooms. Each one eaten before he moves on to the peperoni. Next goes the cheese and he uses a fork to scrape the sauce off the crust. The crust is the last to go. From thin to thick, opening the thick crust and pulling the doughy fluff out, leaving the hard-baked casing on his plate. He swallows down three more pieces in exactly this order.

Rid doesn’t talk much while he eats. Not that he’s so into the movie, but more like he has something on his mind he’s not sure how to approach. The guy has one of the most expressive faces I’ve ever seen. It’s cute. And right now, it’s annoying.

When I can’t take the tension any longer I put my plate down and turn to him. “What is it babe?”

He stays focused on the laptop screen but doesn’t hesitate to answer. “Do you ever get curious?” he asks.

“Curious?”

“How it all works?”

“How what works?”

“You know,sex.” He whispers the last word like he’s worried someone other than me might hear him.

“Babe, I think what we’ve already done constitutes sex.”

“I know. But…”

But he’s talking about the big show. Wow. “Yeah. I get curious. There’s no rush though. We’ll get there when we get there.”

“Have you ever like, watched movies… you know, where, guys do that?”

“Do you mean porn?”

Ridley doesn’t respond in words, but answers me with his Ridley Smirk.

“Sure I have,” I tell him. Honesty’s the best policy with him, I’ve derived by our breakup. Even if not a lie but an omission. “Especially when I had to pretend I liked girls. I needed something to conjure up in my mind so Amanda wouldn’t get suspicious. Haven’t you?”

“No. My mom put parental controls on the internet.”

Of course she did.

The man is almosttwenty.

When our movie ends I go to one of my favorite free porn sites and cue up what looks like a good video. Ridley watches intently, like he’s mentally taking notes. There are sexy grunts and groans coming through the speakers but the movie’s not what interests me, keeping my eyes fixed on Rid biting his bottom lip. He’s on his belly, chin propped up on his hands. His knees are bent, ankles crossed in the air.

Watching him, I wish so badly to be a fly on the wall inside his brain. To see how he processes what he’s seeing on the screen. Is it turning him on? The movie does nothing for me. Watching Ridley watch the movie does everything for me.

About half way through the video he turns to me. “Those men are hot,” he says very automated. No inflection to his tone. “I like seeing them naked. But…”—inflection back—“I like seeing you naked more. Seeing those guys doesn’t make me feel at all how you make me feel.”

“Thank you for saying so. You don’t know what that means to me, babe. They don’t make me feel the way you do, either.”

“Can we make out, because I’d really like to see you naked again? And um… take you in my mouth. I liked doing that for you.”

“Depends,” I answer.

His brow furrows. Again with the cute. “On what?”

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