Page 49 of Summer of the Boy

August

Chapter Thirteen

The alarm clock on the nightstand where I’d placed it directly across from my pillow—not one of my better ideas—buzzes obtrusively loud, making me wish I’d sprang for one that chimes instead.

Of course last year, I wanted the annoying buzz to spur me to get my butt up. Now the last thing I want is to leave the bed. Not with Ridley’s heat pressing against me from shoulders to feet. His arm slung over my waist hanging heavy.

Going to sleep next to him. Waking up wrapped in his arms has been the best part, well okay, the second best part to our adventure.

His mom still hasn’t called.

I know it hurts him. I can read him. But even if I couldn’t, he tells me. We talk all the time. Not just light banter, but talk, talk. I swear the guy’s like a human Cosmo magazine with all these relationship edicts. Edicts such as, ‘relationships won’t last without open communication.’ Truth be told, I love having someone I can be so honest and open with. Someone I can let it all hang out with and know at the end of the day he still loves me in spite of, or maybe because of what I’ve told him. Who the hell knows?

Living every day with Rid has its challenges. He has quirks I’ve had to get used to. Though isn’t that the way for any couple combining lives?

We helped Amanda move into her sorority house at State. And by we, I mean my whole family, along with hers. Then we, minus Amanda and her parents, continued on to Atlantic Tech to move Rid and me into our only slightly off campus apartment.

The building isn’t new, the apartment not nice. What it is, isours. Mine and Rids. None of the other stuff matters. Mom helped us make it our own, decorating as mothers are wont to do. She even found these painted black bookshelves for his superhero collectables and black frames for his posters to make them look more like artwork on our walls. Since she’s the best mom out of all moms, she understood the separate universes. DC to the left when you walk in, and Marvel to the right. She even found us a Superman shower curtain that looks like a comic book.

Then there’s the black, white and red towels, and a red toothbrush holder we’re now the proud owners of along with the brand new comforter she bought us for the brand new queen size bed we found at the outlet store. It’s cool with a black and white photo of the Empire State Building.

Dad made sure we had a grill for the balcony and a new flat screen and cable paid up for the year because when he comes to visit at Thanksgiving he’s not watching the big game on my crappy television. Apparently Rid and I are hosting Thanksgiving for the Fraser family.

They stayed for a couple of days. Yesterday was our first alone. Alone in our apartment, well it’s different than even when he moved in with us on his birthday. Sure we shared a bed, but we shared a bed in my old bedroom in my parent’s home. There is something significant about sharing a bed inourhome.

I miss my family, but I’m glad to be starting this next chapter in my life, inourlives.

Yesterday, our first day alone, I wanted to spend in bed doing all our favorite in bed related activities. No such luck. Autistics and stress. We spent the day walking every inch of campus, showing Rid all his classes and mapping out the quickest routes for him to get to each. Even going as far as to decide on the dining hall we’ll meet in for lunch, the one that sits, according to Ridley’s calculations, exactly halfway between his and my last classes before noon.

We checked in with the student’s with disabilities center to introduce him, and have him find out the exact procedure he needs, step by step, for his classes. Again, autistics have quirks. Then last night, we met his cousin Jordan for dinner. It’s no wonder she and Rid were so close when they were younger, even living hundreds of miles apart. She’s a non-autistic version of Ridley. We made plans for her and her boyfriend to come grill with us later in the week.

“Come on Leif, get up.” Rid rolls over to kiss my jaw. “You want the shower first? I’ll make coffee.” Because he’s precise and uses the scoop, he makes better coffee than I do by my dump a pile of grounds in the filter method.

“Sounds good, babe.”

He rolls out of bed. I’m excited for him. First day of real school. Rid, as do I, only wears boxer briefs to sleep in, so if I have to get up, at least I can do it watching that gorgeous backside walk away to make us coffee.

I’ve got a head full of shampoo suds and a tally running in my mind of all the things I have to do today, when Rid pops in the bathroom to tell me the coffee is ready.

“Thanks. Hey Rid?”

“Yes?”

“Come here for a sec. I need your assistance.” I stick my soapy hand out through the shower curtain and waggle my fingers until he takes them in his hand. The moment he does, my hand closes around his and I tug him inside the shower with me.

Standing shocked and probably a bit confused, he asks, “I thought you needed my assistance?”

“I do,” I say.

“Now my underwear are wet.”

“Guess you’d better take them off, then.”

Rid smiles up at me through those naturally thick lashes most women would kill for. “Leif, we have class.”

“We have time, babe.”

So we have to suck down our coffee out of travel mugs and eat raw pop tarts for breakfast to make it to our classes on time? Ridley’s shower assistance was totally worth it.

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