Page 2 of Missile Tow
“Kissing?” I asked, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear more about his imagining us kissing.
He nodded, his face turning red as he fussed with tucking hair behind the other ear. John had shoulder-length hair, but no one ever mistook him for a girl. Even at his age, he was too square-jawed and chiseled in the face to make that mistake.
“Are you gonna date guys?” he asked, still hanging onto my hand. “I mean… if I asked you not to and stuff.”
“And stuff?” I teased.
“I don’t want you kissing other guys.”
“That’s not fair,” I answered. “You’ll kiss girls soon, and then I’ll lose my buddy.”
“What if we… you know, me and you? What if we were a couple instead?” he blurted.
I flinched at his question, thinking he was poking fun, while also wishing what he said could be true. “I’m serious, dude. I’m gay, and I don’t plan on keeping it a secret. Fuck this town!” I added.
“Then I’m doing that with you,” he said. “I want people to know we like each other that way.”
I let go of his hand and shrugged away. He had zero idea what he was saying. I was dead serious and ready to be my own man. He just didn’t want to lose a friend and be alone while I did it.
“Prove it,” I said, spinning around to face him.
John took three steps forward and leaned into me, his lips pressing on mine, and then he shoved his tongue in my mouth. I was surprised but excited beyond anything I’d ever experienced. I gently opened wider and met his tongue with mine. I was certain my brain would explode. Or at least my cock in my jeans would. After I rested my hands on his hips, he pulled me closer and mashed our lips together in a desperate attempt to merge with me. After half a minute, he pulled back and grinned.
“How’d you learn Frenching?” I gasped, licking him from my lips, the faint taste of Jolly Rancher candy coming through.
“Jamie Hastings,” he replied.
“So you do like girls?”
He shook his head. “Not if you like me, I don’t.”
We stood in the middle of my bedroom, grinning at each other. “Who’s gonna tell Heather and Jamie?” I questioned.
“Who gives a shit?” he answered.
* * *
John and I were together every moment from that day on, except when he had his appendix out and had to go to Missoula for four days when we were seventeen. I missed him horribly and had nightmares that he’d die and I’d be alone forever without him.
Nearly a year ago, and on my twenty-fourth fucking birthday no less, he told me we were over. He wanted to experience city life in Seattle. He also dropped a bomb I never saw coming. He also planned to experience a new guy. He moved away the very next day.
CHAPTER TWO: Van
“Christmas is only two weeks away,” Mom reminded me, making a dismissive, clicking sound with her tongue as she clucked away about how much I’d disappoint her if I left town.
“I know, Mom, but you andRogerwill be in Hawaii as usual, and that is notChristmassyin my book.”
“Don’t say his name like that. Besides, you could come.”
“I could sign up for a voluntary root canal for fun too, but I’m not going to,” I snipped.
Another dismissive click of her tongue. “He is notthatbad!”
“Rogeris a homophobe, a racist, a pig, and a Republican,” I reminded her. “He hates that your only child is gay. And that’s despite the fact I’m twice as masculine as that closet case.”
I could almost see the big vein that pops out on Mom’s forehead when she gets pissed. “Roger is certainly not gay, Van! I think I’d know.”
“How about the other shit then, Mom? Do you agree he’s the rest of the things I described?” I inquired. I didn’t wait for a response. “Doesn’t matter, Mom. I’m not spending my fave holiday and birthday with someone I can’t stand. Besides, I’m using the holiday to drive to Denver to see about that job offer I told you about.”
