The Bewitching Hour

I have been a bad, bad boy… I’ve been holding back—things have developed with the boy and I haven’t known what to do. It started on Halloween in the most random way possible—costumes and booze and all types of drama. I was dressed an as 80’s after school special—tract marks and expensive vodka, headband and black eye.

I was just hitting my ten-minute stride when I came around and there he was—Chance with blue Mohawk and all. I was so shocked that I did what I do best—I turned and ran away to the first person I could find that was out of his eyesight. I hugged Justin Catalino like he was my lost child. (I think I caused years of therapy.)

After a few moments of hair checking and costume adjusting I took some deep breaths and begin the slow process of building up the courage to talk with the boy. I was mostly bolstered by the discovery that Chance had planned to go to this party in the canyons that I was supposed to originally to go but he found out via Lizzie that I was only going to the Detroit St party and that he came there just to try and see me. Awesome….

So I sucked up everything I had inside of me and went rolling in with everything I had—but was intimidated by the crew from Big Brother that was already there. The most I could do was snag a hug and a bright smile and not much else. And I have never been one for small talk and so I blew out of the group, got another drink and danced on everything but the kitchen table.

And then I got the talk—a good friend came up to me and gave me the talk. The talk about what the hell was I doing, that this boy came to see me at this party, that he was happy to see me and was the only guy I had been interested in for months now. That I needed to get it together and think—what would Kelly do?

After a moment’s thought (and another shot of vodka) I realized what I had to do and I did it. I grabbed pack of a cigarettes, fixed my bangs and went charging in. I smiled and laughed and flirted—I made small talk about work and music and everything I have ever done my whole life. We laughed and I played with his hair and coat collar, I left every so often to flirt and dance but never out of Chance’s eyesight…

And it was working until the drama happened. Not drama involving me but my friends and as always—I get sucked in. I jumped in because I knew I wouldn’t have fun if my friends weren’t having fun. So I left the boy behind to deal with everyone else and I came back to find the boy was gone. Poof, like Cinderella.

And I was mad—mad at him for leaving without saying good-bye, my friends for pulling me into the drama, and myself for not doing enough. After a moment’s hesitation I realized I had to do something—I was tired of losing the boy, of not doing enough and letting the boy go because it’s easier. So I commandeered a cell phone—thanks Naomi—and I took a chance.

He answered the phone on the first ring and I asked him where he was—on his way home obviously—and why he had left without saying good-bye. I told him I was pissed that he left without saying good-bye and that I wanted to set up a time to see him again. And instead of freaking out or being coy—he wanted the same thing. So much so that he agreed to turn around and come back, if only to give me a proper good bye.

And as I stood on the sidewalk outside the party, I grew nervous. Now I had the ball but no idea what the fuck to do with it. How far do I go and what do I say to make something, anything happen? And just as I thought maybe nothing would happen—something did.

Chance came around the corner—and not alone. He was lugging two cases of beer and smiling impishly. I asked what he was doing, I thought he was just coming back to say good-bye and he looked me straight in the eyes and said, ”well you made me change my mind.” And then he handed me a case of beer and told me to work the crowd for a bit—he brought the beer because he noticed the keg was almost empty.

So I went back with a big smile and handed out Corona like a missionary on crack. My friends were surprised that he came back and could tell I went stupid due to the boy. And in a way I had—it’s a novel thing to have a nice guy like me, a good guy, a thoughtful guy. A guy who came back because I asked him to.

It wasn’t till hours later that I took my moment with him. Chance was tired and getting ready to leave but I pulled him into the kitchen. I had to ask if his coming back meant something, if I was reading him right and if not then it was okay—and it would be—and he just looked at me in the eyes and we both waited.

And then he leaned into me in the middle of the Detroit St kitchen, he nuzzled my neck and we wrapped our arms around each other and he leaned in and whispered in my ear. “You are the sweetest boy.” And then we kissed and held each other for a bit and then I walked him out. I stood there for a bit and we made plans to see each other again and then he drove away—which was what I wanted right then. No sex or awkward sleepovers or all night hangouts. I waited time to enjoy what had just happened and who we had both been that night. And I realized I don’t know where it is going yet but that it has already gone somewhere new for me.