Jordan

How could Tim do that? How could I do that? Why did I do that? I was stupid. Stupid, stupid.

Pulling at my hair, I paced around my room, ashamed and embarrassed, wishing I could take everything back.

Jamie saw me freak out and it was worse than what I did at Shake Shack. He saw what I did to the kitchen. All the drawers and their contents were all over the floor. I made a mess. I had every reason to be embarrassed.

How could I do that? I asked myself over and over. Why would Tim do my laundry? Why didn't he remind me? Why, why, why?

My episodes didn't last as long as they used to, but they still happened. Historically, once I was in the middle of a rage, I had a hard time stopping and calming down.

After a quiet knock on my door, the door opened. "Go away," I said to Tim. He didn't go away, though, and approached me, handing me a glass of water, which I took.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You're right. I should have reminded you. I shouldn't have touched your clothes. I'm sorry."

I didn't know what to say, only wanting to scream, but no sounds came out. No sounds at all.

"Jamie still wants to take you to the beach," Tim said.

I paused a minute, searching for my voice."After Mom?" The words squeaked out.

"Yes, after you see Mom," he said. The glass of water helped calm me down. At least I stopped pulling at my hair.

"Should I...should I go back downstairs?" I said, doing my best to regain my senses.

"Yes," he said. "Before Jamie cleans up your mess. I told him not to, but I know how he is."

Nodding, I headed back down the stairs. Quietly, I entered the kitchen, hoping to find it vacant. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized Jamie wasn't there. Silverware and a bunch of other non-breakable items were scattered over the kitchen floor. Once I threw a glass, shattering it on the floor. Because I rarely wore shoes and socks, I cut up my feet really badly. I never did that again.

I can't believe I'm still doing this at my age, I thought to myself as I got down on my knees to start the cleaning-up process.

As I knelt on the floor gathering up the silverware, I spotted a pair of feet. They were too big to be Tim's. Also, Tim would never wear sandals, unlike Jamie. I didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say.

"You want to eat something before we go?" Jamie said. "I don't think you've even had breakfast." When I didn't answer, he got down on the floor, kneeling beside me.

"Don't," I said so he wouldn't try to help me. This was my mess to clean up and I didn't deserve anyone's help. "I'm not hungry." He placed a hand on my back, sending chills down my spine. I didn't deserve his kindness.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, fine," I said, which was all I was going to say.

"Thank you," he said.

For what? I wondered.

"No one's ever given me a sunflower before," he said as if to read my mind, sensing my confusion. I didn't know what to say. Jamie was the only thing on my mind most of the time, so when I was passing through the sunflower field, I picked one for him. I thought maybe he'd like it and I guess I was right. "I love it," he said. "Thank you." With his hand still on my back, he kissed the side of my face. "It was the most incredible thing anyone's ever given me." He kissed me again before picking up one of the drawers. He put it back in its proper place.

After I picked up everything, I sat down at the kitchen table and forced myself to eat breakfast because I was prone to so-called freak-outs when I was hungry.

"Maybe Tim should take me today," I said sullenly, staring down at my bowl of Cocoa Puffs, stirring it around and around with my spoon.

"I want to take you," he said. "Unless you really want Tim to."

I shook my head. No, I definitely wanted Jamie to take me.

"Jordan, look at me," he said, but I was too ashamed to look at him. He held my chin, forcing my head up, but I diverted my eyes for a second. Only a second. Leaning into me, he pressed his lips on mine. "Nothing's changed how I feel about you," he said.

Immediately I kissed him back. As my lips parted, I accepted his tongue in my mouth, placing my hand on the back of his head. I brought my other hand to his crotch, determined to make him hard.

"No," he said, grabbing my hand. "Hurry up and eat so we can go."

"Wanna touch mine?" I said. "It's hard."

"I'm sure it is," he said with a laugh, placing a hand on my knee. "Feel better?" he asked while stroking my knee with his hand.

"Yes," I said.

"Good," he said. "We should get going." With a smirk, he got up and left the kitchen.  

After breakfast and a mini make-out session with Jamie, I felt better, confident the day could only get better.

***

On a hot and humid July afternoon, Mom sat in a chair in a pair of sweatshirts and sweatpants in the back yard of the group home. I wished she wore something else because it really was hot and she seemed to be sweating profusely. Strands of gray hair stuck to the sides of her face. One of Mom's favorite staff members, Betty, sat beside her. An older woman with short white hair, she had worked in the group home since Mom moved in.

"She's in a good mood today," Betty said although you'd never know it by looking at her. Jamie pulled up a couple of chairs so we could sit in front of her. 

"If you need anything just let me know," Betty said and walked away.

"Hi Mom," I said. She blinked once, then stared blankly in front of her.

Please say something. Today is the day she'll speak again, I told myself. Please...

"Wanna listen to some music?" I asked as if she'd respond.

I scrolled through my phone, unable to make up my mind. So many things were going through my mind today. I settled on Mad World (the original Tears for Fears version) because that song depicted exactly how I felt at the moment. And maybe it wasn't the right place to play that song, but I didn't care. I wanted to hear it.

"All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere..."

"I love this song," Jamie said, stroking my back while Mom continued to stare blankly at me.

Just say something...

"And their tears are filling up their glasses," the song played...
"No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow..."

The three of us sat there, listening to the music, Jamie's arm around my waist. Never before in my life did I want to get out of there so badly. I hated the fact that I didn't want to even look at my own mother. I was beginning to understand how Tim felt and I didn't like it because she was my mother and I didn't want to hate her or resent her.

"Mom, I have to tell you something," I said. "I'm gay. What do you have to say about that?" It was the first time I said it out loud. Over the past couple of weeks, I had been thinking about it more and more. My sexual awareness was delayed just like my speech and social skills (which continue to be lacking). I liked gay sex. I liked it a lot. Yeah, I knew I was gay.

I waited a second or two, just hoping Mom would open her mouth to say something, anything.

"Do you even care? No, you don't care about anything," I said. Not wanting Mom or Jamie to see my tears, I looked away from them. Jamie went to squeeze my arm, but I didn't want anyone touching me. If she could sit in silence, then so could I. Jamie hated silence, so I anticipated him opening his mouth any second to speak. Instead of speaking, he went to pat my back again. I didn't want to be touched,  so I shrugged him away. Anger and hurt soared through my veins. "Fuck you, Mom," I said and got up.  As usual, she just sat there, doing nothing to try to comfort me. She did nothing to stop me from leaving. I ran around the house to Jamie's Jeep. Annoyed that the doors were locked, I pulled violently and desperately on the door handle.

Jamie showed up and wrapped his arms around me. I tried to fight him off, but he overpowered me, holding me tightly. As he held me, I did something I rarely ever did in front of anyone, at least not since I was twelve or thirteen: I completely broke down in tears. I wasn't sure if it was worse to cry or to tear things apart in a blinding rage. Right now all I wanted to do was cry.

"It's okay," Jamie said, holding me, but I knew nothing was okay.

"She doesn't care," I said, pulling away from him, wiping my nose with the back of my arm. "Tim's right. Why bother? She's trapped in there and she's never coming out. She mine as well be dead." I cried harder because I didn't want her to be dead. I wanted her alive and to be a normal mother. Jamie hugged me again.

"Want me to take you home?" he asked.

"No," I said. "I want to go to the beach."

"Are you sure?" he asked, holding my shoulders. I nodded.

"I don't want to go home," I said.

At first I wasn't in the mood to go swimming, so I just lay on the beach blanket in the sand, my head on Jamie's stomach. Ordinarily I'd just lay flat on the wet sand, no blanket or anything, but Jamie insisted on lying on the blanket. I just wanted to be close to him. When I got really hot and couldn't take it anymore, I finally went in the water. Once I was in, my dark mood lifted. Water did the trick nearly every time.

Even though Jamie complained about how cold the water was, he swam with me. He ended up burying me in the sand, up to my neck. Sand never bothered me. By the time we left the beach, I was in a much, much better mood. I was in an even better mood when he stopped for fried clams, something I hadn't had in years. Tim hated fried clams, but I loved them and so did our dad. He was the only one who would take me. Jamie loved them, too.

The house was empty by the time we got home. Tim was out with that woman and I wasn't sure when he was coming home. It was only seven o'clock, so Jamie and I probably had a few good hours alone together. Instead of taking a shower, which Jamie wanted to do, I went out back to continue swimming. Jamie didn't argue and went with me. With our swim trunks in a ball on the pool deck, we splashed around the water like we usually did, fooling around and dunking each other over and over again. Jamie occasionally picked me up, flinging me in the air. I would have done the same to him, but he was at least fifteen to twenty pounds heavier than me, not to mention taller.

The moon was bright, not quite a full moon. We lay side by side on the pool deck, looking up into the night sky.

"I really like it here," Jamie said. "I thought I'd be bored because I've been living in the city for so long. When I was a kid, I couldn't wait to get out of this town, but now...now I guess I see all the good things about it."

"It's not so great in the winter," I said, running my hand all the way down his chest and stomach. "We're always one of the last houses to get plowed out. I'm stuck inside a lot. I hate winter."

"Yeah, I bet it's boring for you with no one around, no one to play with," he said as my fingers made their way between his legs. He gasped quietly as I touched him. "It was awesome how you came out to your mother," he added as I pulled his foreskin all the way forward, then back again. "Shit," he muttered. Keeping my eyes on him as he looked up into the sky, I noticed him swallow, a sign he liked what I was doing. Sitting up, I scooted down and knelt between his legs. "What are you doing, Jordan?"

I thought it was pretty obvious what I was doing, so I didn't answer him.

"Maybe we should go inside," he said.

Why? I thought, since no one was around. We'd fooled around out here before.

Ignoring his comments, I gently pushed the foreskin back, exposing the head. He didn't put up much of a fight. In fact, he didn't put up a fight at all. I ran my finger over it before lightly kissing it. He inhaled deeply as I took him in my mouth, grasping clumps of my hair with both hands. I kissed and licked him everywhere down there. He liked my finger in him, rubbing against his prostate. 

"Wait," he said. Whenever he said "wait," I knew he was close. I didn't release him, though, keeping my finger there and my mouth still on him. "Jordan," he said, pulling my hair back, forcing me to look up at him. He didn't have to say anything else. There he was, our eyes fixed as he trickled down my throat. He moaned my name as he finished in my mouth.

"Jamie," I said as I released him. With his fingers still entangled in my hair, I rested my head on his chest. Breathing heavily, his heart beat fast. The rhythm of his heard was soothing.

"You're amazing," he said. So are you, I thought to myself.

At least the day ended on a good note.

A/N

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