Page 7 of Summer of the Boy

“Do you want me to talk with her?”

Not only is my mom a better mom than I ever gave her credit for, she’s also been a social worker for the past twenty years.

“No. But thanks. We’re going to try being friends, get her used to me. See how it goes.”

“Well, it’s always good to build the friendship. You’re dad and I hung out as friends for months before he asked me out on a date. We’re still happy, still in love, still best friends. And we met when we were nineteen. Just saying…”

“I’m supposed to meet him this morning, keep him company and make sure no one says shit to him.”

“Okay, I’ll let you to it. Bring him around any time. I promise we’ll all be cool. Bring him for dinner tonight, I’m making my homemade mac and cheese with bacon.”

Then she stands, pulls my head to her and kisses my forehead, then she walks away. I leave the juice sitting on the table, and take the stairs up to my room two at a time. After a quick shower and shave, I opt for a pair of my skinny jeans which I’d cut off into shorts. The gray pair. And my soft Star Wars tee. Then I slide into my Vans. God, what a difference a year makes.

As I pass through the kitchen on my way out back to my car, I notice the juice no longer sits on the table, in its place several pamphlets on autism and homosexuality.

My mother.

Only my mother would have these just laying around the house. More than likely she had them in a file in her office.

I grab up the pamphlets so no one else sees them and dash out the backdoor to my car.

Ten minutes later I parallel park along the boardwalk (free parking) and follow the trail of eager carnival goers to the front gate. Since I intend to be here as often as Rid will let me, I opt to buy a seasonal pass which comes in the form of a green wristband that I’m supposed to wear every time I come here.

On my way back to his game, I bypass the saltwater taffy shop and choose the caramel corn stand to buy two bags instead. I have no idea if Rid even eats caramel corn, but it smells too good to pass up and I sure as hell wouldn’t show up without some for him too.

When he comes into view, my heart speeds up. It doesn’t make any sense, my reaction to him. How could my heart get so spastic after only knowing him the equivalent of a couple of hours? I know what lust feels like. Lust you feel in your groin. Whatever this is starts in my heart region and shoots straight down to the pit of my belly. Being just friends with him is going to end up problematic if I can’t check this emotion. Though, when he sees me, his face shines with relief and happiness, like he’s been waiting for me.

“Wasn’t sure you’d show up,” he speaks first, eyes darting away from me.

“Rid. Look at me.” He does. Or he tries. “I promised I’d come. I wanted to.” Ridley bites his bottom lip which forces me to feel that sweet warmth of attraction once again. That one hits my groin. I close my eyes, drawing in a long breath and then hold the bag of corn out to him. “Here,” I say on the exhale.

“Caramel corn? It’s my favorite. I love the salty sweet.”

Oh god. “Rid, you’re killing me.”

We have a good time talking, getting to know one another. He has a birthday coming in July. Turning twenty. He loves living by the beach. It’s just been him and his mom, like almost his whole life. He doesn’t even remember his dad. And this job at the carnival is his first job away from his mother, who had him working as a dishwasher in the restaurant she works for all last year. I tell him about my family some. About how I spent Christmas at Sugar Hill which is a ski resort.

“I’ve never been skiing,” he tells me, his ears pinking a little.

“You embarrassed by that?” I ask in return.

He nods.

“Why? Lots of people have never been skiing. It was my first time.” He seems content with that answer so I move on. “If you could do one activity, something fun and exciting, what would it be?”

“Swim with the dolphins,” he replies right away. Definite. As if he’s given this a great deal of thought.

“Well, I’ll tell you what. When you’re ready to go swimming with those dolphins, tell me. I’ll go with you.” I want to kick myself. It’s a nice thing to say, but jeez, here I am inserting myself into his life and we only just met yesterday. It’s my turn formyears to pink.

“You embarrassed by your answer?” he asks.

When our gazes meet, I can see he very much likes my response, even chuckling a bit under his breath. “Nope,” I tell him then, honestly. “Not anymore.”

A good day.

None of the douche canoes from the day before show up.

At the end of his shift, I help him close down his game and walk him to the trailer to clock out. I wait outside for him. When he walks back out and I see him with the setting sun for a backdrop, for the first time since I’d shown up that morning, my mouth goes dry. I find myself swallowing back the urge to kiss him.Kiss him. Friends. We’re trying out friends first.

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