A Surplus of Light Page 9

  I told him that even the sky agreed because when the sun did manage to peek through the wisteria above, it always found him. Squares of golden light decorated his back, his ass, the side of his face, his forearm. Even the sun desired his body as much as I did. To know him in a way that was rhapsodic. To feel everything divine his body had to offer. And I knew—without any shred of tangible evidence—that my body becoming one with his would be divine.

  This probably went on for hours, our erections fading, but the sexual tension just grew as I devoured Ian’s body with my eyes. When Ian was done sketching, Ian reversed his actions, redressing himself, and then me. It was nearly as erotic as being undressed by him. Then he picked up his sketchpad and tore out the sketch, handing it over to me. He had drawn himself perfectly, but also somehow managed to sketch himself the way that I saw him. Probably because I saw him for exactly who and what he was.

  Ian and I walked out of the woods and once we were out of the woods, he held my hand as we walked through the field. The sun was setting and the day had flown by. We had spent the whole day naked in the wisteria deep in the woods. And we had done nothing. And it was the best summer day I’d ever had. I asked to kiss him when we separated for the night, but he told me “no”. Somehow, I wasn’t as upset by his answer as I usually was. Though, it was even harder to get him out of my head as I waited for sleep that night. His naked body kept jolting me awake just as I’d start to drift off. But it wasn’t irritating or annoying or frustrating. It made me smile.

  At the end of summer, we observed our annual ritual of watching the bats as we held hands, waist high in the creek. When I asked Ian if I could kiss him after the bats were done feeding, he almost agreed. It took him several moments to answer. It topped all of the other enthralling moments I’d shared with him up until then. The anticipation, yearning, unfulfilled desire—it was absolutely intoxicating. The buildup over the years was more erotic than anything I’d done in the woods with Catherine the summer before.

  But the same answer came out of his mouth at last. Not in the same way, though.

  “No.” He leaned up to whisper in my ear, his lips against my ear, his jaw moving against my cheek. “One more school year. Wait. Wait until I can give myself to you. Completely.”

  The thought made me shiver with delight.

  Then his lips found the side of my neck.

  And I really shivered.

  He kissed me once. And I controlled myself. I didn’t grab him or throw myself on him. I just moaned. Then he moved to the other side of my neck and kissed me there. Then the front of my throat.

  “I’m still…broken.” His lips moved against my ear again. “I’ll put myself back together. For you.”

  “Put yourself back together for you,” I whispered back, breathing in the scent of his hair that lay against my face.

  Another kiss met my neck and then he was running away, towards his home. I watched him and smiled until he was completely out of sight. Then I turned and started to walk in the opposite direction, smiling like a lovesick teenager. Because I was. I had barely walked ten feet before something struck me in the gut. I turned my head to look off in the direction that Ian had run and panic gripped me. I turned and ran as fast and hard as I could, trying to calculate how much of a head start I had given him.

  I heard Ian scream for his father as I dashed behind the neighbor’s tree by Ian’s house and then the door of Ian’s house flew open and his dad came marching down the steps. Ian was standing in the middle of his lawn. Calm. Controlled. I couldn’t see his face, but I didn’t want to. I never wanted to see that side of Ian. His dad wasn’t running or screaming, but he exuded anger. He was very obviously drunk and ready to murder.

  Ian’s mother was slumped against the door frame. I glanced at her quickly enough to notice the bruises and bloody face. Ian stayed still, waiting for his father to come to him. His father stepped up to Ian, his fist leading. It didn’t even come close. That was how quick Ian was. Then another fist. Another easy dodge. Then again. And again. And again. Ian performed this dance with his father, barely having to work to avoid his father’s fists, until his father was breathing heavily and barely able to stand straight.

  Then Ian punched once. His father was lifted off of his feet and stumbled backward like a rag doll. Ian waited patiently as his father lay on the ground. Ian didn’t make a move to go to his mother or stomp inside and lock the door. He waited. His father came to all fours, cursing and spitting, calling Ian names that I would never repeat as long as I lived. No one should ever be called those names. Ian moved over to his father so quickly it was almost supernatural, and his leg connected with his father’s side, slamming into his ribs, sending him rolling. Ian went back to waiting.

  It took his father longer to get to all fours again. Ian waited. Then his father somehow staggered to his feet. More curses and insults and proclamations about how he would kill Ian. Then he charged. Again, he was sent to the ground with a single hit. Ian didn’t wait this time. His foot connected with his father’s face this time. Even in the dark, I could see the almost black blood fly from his father’s face as he went reeling from the kick. My fingers were digging into the tree. Ian’s face was impassive. Blank. Unfeeling in this horrific moment.

  His father lay on the ground, right beside the overgrown driveway, sputtering and coughing. Ian walked over to his father, bent down and grabbed his father’s arm. For a moment, I was worried that he’d help his father into the house. Instead, he just pulled him so that he was laying on his side. His father hacked up dark fluid. Puke and blood and then bile. Ian stood far enough back to avoid getting sprayed. When his father finally stopped puking and resorted to groaning and holding his side as he laid there, Ian went over and pulled his father’s keys out of his pocket. He stepped back, pulled a key—I assumed, the house key—off of the keyring, then tossed the rest at his father. Ian finally spoke.

  “Leave.”

  One word.

  “Fuck you!” His father spat. “Faggot!”

  Ian stood there for a few moments. Then he swung his leg back angrily. His father held his hands up defensively in fear. Ian didn’t swing his leg forward. He went back to standing there impassively.

  “If you don’t leave,” Ian’s voice was so calm it made a chill run up my spine, “I will kill you right now. I will kick you until you are dead. And I won’t make it quick. I will make sure that you feel the most exquisitely excruciating pain until the very last moments before you die. I will make sure you feel every single kick. I don’t want to. But I will. You are done here.”

  His father held his arms up in defensive fear for a few moments, then he gave the smallest of nods. Ian started to walk away. Then he stopped himself.

  “If I ever see you again…” His voice quivered for a moment, but he stopped and collected himself, “…I better never see you again. I’m done fighting you. So, if I have to do it again—”

  “I’m leaving!” His father growled.

  Ian looked at his father with that blank face for the longest of moments, nodded, then went the porch steps and grabbed ahold of his mother. He laced one of his mother’s arms over his shoulders and helped her into the house. Then the door closed. I watched for an hour, waiting for his father to get up. When he finally did, he cursed at the house, at Ian. But he got his keys out of the grass, climbed into his truck, and peeled out of the driveway, screaming the whole way. I watched his taillights disappear in the dark.

  I was about to move away from the tree when Ian’s house door opened again. His eyes went right to me. In the light coming from the house, I could see the tear tracks on his cheeks. And then he collapsed, falling to his ass right there in the doorway, his back against the doorjamb. I started to run to him, but he held up a hand. He looked over at me, tears in his eyes and shook his head. I nodded. Then I walked around the tree and sat down where he could see me, my back against the trunk of it.

  Ian sat in the doorway of his house until the sky was turning
reddish pink, crying. I sat by the tree trunk and let him just not be alone. When dawn started to approach, he finally rose to his feet and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. I stood up from my spot by the tree. Ian chewed his lip, his eyes puffy and swollen from all of the crying. He looked over at me and mouthed the words “thank you”. Then he went inside. And I went home.

  When school started the next day, I was leaning back against my locker, waiting for Ian. I was going to stand by my locker until he walked into the school, even if he was late and the bell rang. I was going to see my friend walk into school, unbruised, liberated, and ready to start his last year of high school. When he walked into school, ten minutes before first bell, he was wearing the shirt that I had given him after I had ripped his and doctored his cut eyebrow. It was tight on him…but in the best of ways. He didn’t walk down the middle of the hall, he walked down the side I was on. Other students still scurried out of his way, but he ignored it like always. When he passed me, he raised his hand and gave me the lightest tap against my cheek as he gave me a small smile. His feet never stopped moving.

  As he walked away, I smiled widely, and Kyle, who had been leaning against his locker next to me, looked at me with wide, fearful eyes. I just shrugged and pushed away from my locker. “That’s like the Mafia’s kiss of death, man!” He rushed to walk beside me. “He’s probably going to kick your ass now. What did you do to piss him off??” I rolled my eyes. “Oh, fuck off, Kyle.” He sputtered as I walked away. I grabbed Kevin around his shoulders as he was stepping away from his locker. “Walk me to class?” I asked him as I led him down the hall. “Shuh-shuh-sure, Muh-Mike.” He beamed at me.

  “Do you want to be my friend?” I asked. “Not just at lunch?”

  Kevin beamed. “Yuh-yeah, man!”

  “I’m honored.” I smiled. “I need a real friend during the school year.”

  It was a little cheesy and embarrassing, but Kevin didn’t stop smiling all of senior year. We talked in classes, walked together between classes, did homework together, played video games at each other’s houses, went to football games together and cheered with the other students, went and got pizza together, stayed at each other’s houses. Besides Ian, Kevin became my best friend. Of course, Ian wasn’t my best friend. He was more than that. Kevin could never replace or threaten my relationship with Ian. But…he made my life immeasurably better during my senior year.

  Of course, I didn’t hang out with Ian during senior year. I only saw him in the hallways and lunchroom at school. But he always made sure to at least lock eyes with me for a moment. To acknowledge me. It wasn’t what I wanted—but I had made my own promise. I would give him this last year. I found out through other people that Ian took a job at the store shortly after school started. He did the stocking, sweeping, cleaning, sometimes running the cash register. His father had just up and left town for some reason, so Ian and his mom needed the extra money. Of course, I never had any idea why that happened when everyone sat around talking, inviting others to speculate. Sometimes I’d wander into the store. I always bought an iced tea, a lemonade, and dill pickle sunflower seeds when Ian was working the cash register. Then, for some reason, I’d stupidly forget them on the counter.

  The first time I forgot my purchases, Ian hollered after me. When I turned, he indicated the drinks and sunflower seeds. I looked at the paid for items on the counter blankly. Then I looked up at him and said: “I don’t really like those. But they’re already paid for…so someone should enjoy them.” He chewed at his lip when I smiled, nodded, and left. I did this every time he was working the register.

  I was letting him have his year, he let me have this.

  “We hope to see you again.” That’s what Ian said every time after that first time. And every time, I’d turn at the door and say: “Nothing could keep me away.”

  Once, Kevin and I went to the store together. Kevin talked to Ian the entire time, but I kept my mouth shut and just stared at Ian. The way his jaw bone looked each time he replied to Kevin. The way his dark hair was cut much shorter than during the summer. The way his button nose wriggled when he smiled at Kevin. His beautiful lips forming his words. Those icebergs floating in milky pools. I had to leave the store before Kevin and Ian were done talking.

  Ian asked huh-how you were doing. Kevin frowned as we walked away from the store together afterward. What did you say? I had asked. I suh-said you were the buh-best fuh-friend I’d ever had. Kevin blushed. I duh-didn’t nuh-know you were fuh-friends. I thought about this for several moments as we walked. We aren’t. I responded. Which was true. “Friends” wasn’t a big enough word for what we were. Kevin watched me out of the corner of his eye for a long time. Then he seemed to decide on something and dropped it.

  Right before spring break of senior year, I opened my locker to find a folded-up piece of paper laying haphazardly on top of my stack of books. I immediately recognized the color and texture of the paper. My breath caught in my throat and my hands shook as I reached out to unfold it. It was a sketch of the “room” of wisteria—and it was breathtaking. He had sketched this from memory and it was exactly as I remembered it. I could practically smell the wisteria as I looked at the sketch. On the back, Ian had written: Late at night, when I’m in bed, and I feel all alone, I think of this. I got into Columbia University. X

  My heart filled. It ached. It broke. The end was coming.

  Chapter 10

  Ian

  Mike’s arms went around me and his hands shot to my ass. Then he was lifting me in the water and I instinctively wrapped my legs around his waist tightly. My legs pulled him into me as my mouth worked to devour his. The Full Strawberry Moon shone down on us as my body moved desperately against his, rubbing against him as he held onto my ass, his fingers digging at my soft flesh through my swimsuit. I wanted to bite and suck at his neck, lick at his collarbone, feel the flesh of his chest and stomach against my lips—places lower. But I didn’t want to take my lips from his mouth.

  Jerkily, Mike walked towards shore, carrying me along as I fed at his mouth. Then We collapsed against the bank and he urged me upwards. I practically crawled backward up the bank while trying to keep my mouth on his. Mike was moaning like an animal as he pushed against me and I crab-walked up the creek bank. When we reached the top of the embankment, his body pushed into mine until my shoulder blades were digging into the dirt and his pelvis was grinding into mine.

  I wrapped my arms around him and flipped us over, my body coming to rest on top of his, my knees moving up to straddle him.

  “Oh, my God.” Mike moaned into my mouth as I humped against him.

  “I want you.” I breathed against his mouth as my hips continued to move. “I’ve always wanted you. All of you.”

  Mike’s arms were around me and I was suddenly rolled onto my stomach and Mike was sliding down my body. I felt his tongue against my calf, sliding up desperately, over the back of my thigh, my ass, my lower back. I moaned loudly, not giving a shit if anyone might be walking in the woods and would then come to investigate. His tongue slid up my spine, working its way up the valley of my back, then my neck. He roughly rolled me over until I was on my back, looking up into his face, more aroused than I had ever been in my life.

  Mike pinned me down with his lower body, his hands holding my wrists as he looked down at me. I lifted my head, trying to get at his mouth. He’d start to lean down to meet my mouth, then pull back with an evil grin. I was sure that I looked like a snapping turtle, nipping at his mouth, but I didn’t care. My body was aching for him and my mind was possessed by someone I hadn’t allowed myself to be for four years.

  “You’ve made your point,” I growled. “Put your fucking mouth on mine.”

  We both knew that I could overpower Mike if I really wanted to—but I wanted to do this his way. I wanted to feel what he had been forced to hold back for four years. I wanted to give him that. And I wanted him to show me how he had imagined this going for that whole time.

  �
��Say it again.” He rolled his hips into mine.

  “Say what?” I moaned as my mouth reached for him again.

  He cocked an eyebrow at me.

  “I love you, Mike.” I breathed out.

  Then his mouth was on mine and his hands moved away from my wrists so that I could wrap my arms around his wet back.

  “I’ve always loved you, Mike,” I said as my mouth moved to his neck.

  We became a flurry of arms and legs and lips and teeth and every other body part, right there on the bank of our creek. The Full Strawberry Moon shone down on us, letting us see each other clearly as we crossed the four-year-long space between us. Our bodies became one as every part of our bodies worked together to finally express our feelings for each other. I lost all track of time as Mike’s body became part of mine, and then mine became part of him, and our mouths touched every part of each other.

  When the sky started turning violet, then red, getting closer to pink, we found ourselves wrapped tightly together, our legs and arms tucked tightly around each other, my head on Mike’s chest. His eyes were closed, but his wide smile and soft breathing let me know that he wasn’t asleep. He was in complete and utter rhapsody, his mind replaying the last few hours in his head as we lay there, dirty, wet, and not giving a damn about any of it.

  “It’ll be light soon,” I whispered into his chest, my lips brushing against his skin as I smiled.

  “I already see you just fine.” Mike breathed into my hair.

  “I wouldn’t mind seeing more of you,” I replied.

  “You can see as much of me as you want as often as you want.”

  Though we were both smiling, our bodies satisfied—for the moment—the future still loomed. The light of summer only lasts so long. I moved my head up to kiss Mike gently on the lips. He wrapped his arms around me and held me to him as he returned the kiss. Then he allowed me to move down to kiss his neck, the front of his throat, his chest.