Craving's Creek

Chapter 3-2

I’ve never done this before, and I’m pretty sure I’ll end up falling off this branch and breaking my spine. But I can’t risk knocking on Alistair’s front door, and his parents would hear the phone if I called. I try throwing pebbles at his window, but he doesn’t hear them.

It’s past midnight and I’m under the flare of the moon, crawling on my stomach on this branch I hope won’t crack under my weight. If I can make it to the end, I’ll be within reach of his window. I slither a few more feet, the bark scratching my stomach through my T-shirt. I can see he’s awake. I see him sitting on his bed, bobbing his head. He has his earphones on. Even if I touch his window, he won’t hear me.

So I wait and stare at him. After a minute or two, he feels me watching and looks my way.

He jumps back like a rabbit spotting a fox and tears his earphones off. “Ryde?” I see him mouth my name.

I’m stretched out on the branch, inches away from his window, and about twenty feet off the ground. Suddenly, I don’t feel so safe. “Open,” I whisper.

He gets out of bed. He’s in his white underwear. Alistair is built small, but I realize he’s got more muscle than I do. He actually has abs. How did that happen?

“What if you fall?” he asks me, propping his small window open.

There’s no way I could ever squeeze myself through that window. “Can you sneak out?” I don’t want to look down anymore. “Out back or something? I wanna talk to you.”

He’s frowning, obviously disapproving of the situation. “I’ll try,” he finally says and looks down. “Can you get back down there without falling?”

“Yeah.” I start inching myself back on the branch, but the backward motion is much trickier. I see him slipping into his gym pants and that church camp T-shirt with Jesus’s famous logo on it.

He comes to the window to check on my progress and frowns again. “Careful,” he whispers and shuts his light off. I hear the trap door opening and I move a little faster. When I reach the trunk of the tree, I know I’ll be all right.

I climb down and dust myself off. We meet in the back of his house, by his father’s toolshed. His parents sleep in the room at the front of the house. They probably can’t hear us.

“You’ve never done that before,” Alistair says. He stands near the shed, his face half-hidden in the shadows. “It’s dangerous. Don’t do it anymore.”

Why do I find him so beautiful? What is it about him anyway? I don’t know if I want to kiss him or bite him. And his eyes. His eyes are the reason I get the way I get around him. I can’t escape those huge black eyes. I see them when I close my own eyes, night and day. They hold a secret I yearn to know.

“The party was kind of boring,” I say, playing it cool. “You wouldn’t have liked it anyway.”

He just looks at me.

“And on top of that,” I add, a little nervously now, “everyone got drunk on peach liquor and the girls were all crying and stuff. It was pretty lame.”

He’s still not talking to me. He just stands there, waiting patiently for me to say something real.

“Sheryl and me left and went to the park.” Now I see his jawline harden and the fire inside me starts anew. “She wants to go to Hollywood next year.”

“With you?” His voice is sharp.

“No, not with me.” I touch his hand with a fingertip. “And, anyway, I wouldn’t go, even if she asked me to.”

He sticks his hand under his arm.

I want him to let his guard down. “My mom says she’s gonna talk to your mom about Catholic camp. She wants you to come to camp with us, up north.”

Alistair’s face finally brightens. “For real?”

“Yeah, for real. It would be so cool if you could come. If she said yes, wouldn’t that be amazing?”

“She’ll say no. I know she will.” He looks over my shoulder at the house. “My father won’t allow it.”

I don’t know what to say. I stand there, frustrated and dumb.

“Ryde,” he whispers, “I wanna tell you something. Something important I decided this week.”

Everything in me stops and listens. “What is it?” I come a little closer to him.

“After graduation, I’m gonna enter the Grand Seminary.”

“The what?” I have no idea what he’s talking about. I’m going to be a journalist and he’s going to be a history teacher. That’s what we decided last month.

He’s staring at the ground. “The Grand Seminary is where you go when you wanna become a priest,” he says, his eyes meeting mine in the dark. “Okay?”

He’s nuts. He’s completely insane. He’s in denial about being gay and using God as some kind of shield to avoid temptation. I want to confront him about it, but if I do, I’ll only incense him. “Okay, yeah, fine.” I say, calmly. “Sounds good.”

“You’re fine with it? Really?”

“Hey, it’s your life.”

I’ll never let him. I’ll blow the Grand Seminary up if I must. I’ll never let him do it. Never.

“You wanna marry God and wear black all your life, like you’re perpetually attending your own funeral, that’s your right.”

“It’s not like that, and you can’t understand. I’ve been called, Ryde. God asked me to serve Him. And I’m not the only one who’s felt Him in the house. My mother saw the angel too and—”

“You need to get some fresh air, do you understand me?”

I can’t take this. What is this?

“You need to get out of that attic, away from them, from your mom, your dad—”

But he steps back from me and I know I need to stop talking right now or he’ll shut me out for good.

“Alistair,” I whisper, and a shiver runs through me. “Are you f*****g serious? What about our plans to go to Europe after we get our diplomas?” I have to say more, but I don’t know how he’ll react. “What about me? About us, I mean.”

“You could become a priest too. You’d be so good at it, and we’d go through the four steps together, at the seminary—”

“Oh, stop. Just stop it. You know I don’t even believe in God and all that stuff.”

“You do believe in him. You’re just scared.”

“And so are you.”

“No, I’m not.” He raises his chin defiantly and I’m reminded of the first time I saw him, when we were both four years old. Ever since that day, I’ve been living for him.

“Yes, you are,” I say. “You’re scared, Alistair.” I want to touch him but can’t summon the nerve. “You’re scared of me and how you feel about me.”

“Don’t say that.”

“But you are. Admit it.” Now I’ve done it and I can’t stop here. “Has it ever occurred to you that I don’t want you to become a priest or get married or date Alicia or move to Africa or—”

“Well, it’s not up to you.”

“It’s not up to me?” I glare at him.

Why am I like this around him? It used to be we’d hang out together and I’d feel peace inside. These days, I’m constantly in turmoil. I could spend twenty-four hours a day with him and still not be satisfied. Can’t he see it? I’m obsessed.

“Ryde, don’t,” he says gently, putting his hand on my arm. “Don’t be upset. Please.”

Something takes a hold of me and I pounce, stopping real close to him. I’m shaking. “You’re not gonna become a priest, do you hear me?” I put my hand on his face and his skin feels hot against my palm. “I won’t let you,” I whisper and realize I’m pressing my mouth to his.

But he’s frozen still against me and I make myself move back. For a moment, we stare at each other.

I didn’t kiss him. It wasn’t a kiss.

I can see he’s breathing hard. I can see he’s wired.

“Do you know what you just did?” he asks, like he’s about to cry.

“Stop. You’re not a baby.” I rub my finger against my mouth. God, I want to kiss him so hard. I want to kiss him until he chokes. “Don’t act so offended.”

“I’m not offended.”

“Then what are you? Disgusted?” I’m afraid of his answer. “Well, are you?”

“I’m not disgusted or offended! I…I don’t know—”

“Goddamn it, Alistair.” I close the distance between us and grab him again. I want to shake him. I want to shake God right out of him. “What are you then? Huh? What?” I hold his face between my hands. “What?” I say more softly, leaning my forehead to his. He’s breaking me down. I close my eyes. I’m dizzy. I feel sick. His hand is in my hair. His heart beats like a drum against my chest. I open my eyes and see him staring right into me. I’m not breathing anymore. I’m locked into his stare, all my doubts vanishing.

I kiss him. He opens his lips and lets me kiss him deep. Our tongues twist together and I’m holding his face, his neck, and my whole body hungers for him. I’ve never kissed someone like this before. I don’t know how we’ll ever stop. But the porch light turns on and that light hits me like a bullet in the head. I literally jump back from him.

His mom opens the door. “Alistair? What on earth? What are you doing out here?”

I can’t catch my breath. I want to scream. I want to laugh. I want to kiss him again.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, bolting for the street. I look back over my shoulder and see him entering his house.

I don’t care how much trouble he’s in. Because I kissed him.