Jordan

Thunderstorms were always the best, I'd sit on Mom's lap in the dark, listening to the thunder boom outside. "My always said it's God bowling," she said to me as I jumped in her lap after each boom. I must have been around five and she looked like a normal mom for once, her plain dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail. No make-up, no dyed hair or leather skirts or fish net stockings. She was in her pajamas, like me, since it was after nine o'clock at night. Art wasn't home; in Alaska again.

"Thunderstorms are always best with the lights off," she said.

At only five, I still believed monsters lived in my closet since that's what Tim told me and I believed him. I believed whatever Tim told me. I was also gullible and naive enough to believe that God was actually up there bowling. I wondered what else He was doing up there.

Holding me in my arms, Mom sang the Beatles,

"If the rain comes
They run and hide their heads
They might as well be dead
If the rain comes
If the rain comes..."

While Mom was more of a punk rock fiend, every now and again she surprised us with other types of music and songs. She always knew how to calm me down.

Tim sat across the room. He knew the song, too, and joined her in singing. I always liked the way he sang.

Ever since Mom showed me how to appreciate thunderstorms, they were always my favorite.

After Mom went away, I'd either drag Tim outside or, if the storm was in the evening, I'd make him turn off all the lights in the house and we'd watch the lightning flash in the sky.

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***

Ever since Mom showed me how to appreciate thunder storms, they were always my favorite. After Mom went away, I'd either drag Tim outside or, if the storm was in the evening, I'd make him turn off all the lights in the house and we'd watch the lightening flash in the sky.

Thunder boomed outside, followed by flashes of light. With all the intense heat and humidity, a thunderstorm was no doubt inevitable. To get a peek, I ran to the window, almost as excited as a kid on Christmas morning. Rain pounded the window, coming down in buckets. I returned to Jamie who slept soundly in bed. I liked sleeping in his bed that wasn't actually his bed. This was my parents' bed where I often slept as a kid because I was prone to nightmares and was overly attached to my mother. Even I knew that.

"Jamie, wake up!" I shouted, shaking him awake. "Come on. Let's go."

"Go where?" he yawned.

"Outside," I said.

"But it's raining," he said. "It's pouring out."

"Thunder storms are the best," I said. "Come on. Let's go. Jamie, come on. Get up."

"I should kill you," he said as I pulled him along by his wrist. "You're touching me," he teased. I had more or less grown accustomed to his teasing. As we made our way outside, I let go of his wrist and ran down the porch and out into the woods to go to my favorite spot. We were both in our bare feet and boxers, drenched to the skin within seconds.

Spreading my arms, I gazed up and into the gray sky. The song Mom sang to me nearly fifteen years ago came to me and I sang...

"If the rain comes
They run and hide their heads
They might as well be dead
If the rain comes
If the rain comes..."

"Do it like this," I said to Jamie who was just standing there, watching me. "Try it." Standing in front of me, he copied me, his arms wide open, looking up as the rain came down while I continued to sing...

"When the sun shines
They slip into the shade
And sip their lemonade
When the sun shines
When the sun shines

Rain, I don't mind
Shine, the weather's fine."

The rain beat down on me, thunder rumbling. Through most of my life, I never feared getting struck by lightning. As a little kid, it was the sound that frightened me more than anything else until I learned to appreciate it while believing it was really God bowling.

Summer really was the best. Jamie stopped copying me and stepped into me, getting closer and closer as I continued to stare straight up into the rain and sky.

He was so close to me, I could feel his breath against my face. I had come to really like being so close to him. I liked it when we touched.

Jamie's fingers trailed up my arms and around my fingers, then back up my arm again. The Rain song disappeared and another emerged. "With your feet in the air and your head on the ground..." Jamie sang. A smile escaped my lips as I immediately recognized the song by the Pixies. He ran his hand up my neck and I liked it. I wondered if he noticed the goosebumps on my arms. I sang the high pitched backing vocals of the song. "Ooo...oh."

Together we sang quietly, Jamie's fingers now gliding over my lips. "Where is my mind? Where is my mind?" His hands moved to the side of my head. "Where is my mind?" Now his lips grazed my chin. My heart skipped a couple of beats, barely able to breathe yet I continued to sing the next lines.

"I was swimmin' in the Caribbean," I sang with a laugh, my head still tilted up to the sky. Some of the lyrics cracked me up. "Animals were hiding behind the rock..."

"Except the little fish," Jamie continued against my chin. His top lip clipped my bottom lip. My heart pounded so loud and heavy, I felt it in my throat. I brought my head down just enough to pair Jamie's lips with mine. The music in my head abruptly stopped, electricity of sorts running through my veins. Keeping my lips on his, I didn't freak out. No way. I liked this way too much. Cupping my chin, Jamie pressed his lips harder against mine. An unusual sound escaped my mouth, but I didn't pull away, wanting more. I had a strange desire to taste his tongue, to feel it against mine. Just as I tried, he pushed me away.

"No no no," he said quietly, more to himself than to me. "I can't do this. I can't..."

"Why?" I said. "Let's do it again."

"I can't. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." Even though he said no, I went to kiss him again. He stopped me, pressing a hand firmly on my chest. "This is all wrong."

"Why is it wrong?" I asked.

"You're a kid," he said.

"Shut up," I said, shoving his shoulders. "Stop calling me a kid."

"You're my best friend's little brother!" he shouted back at me, which was strange coming from him since he never raised his voice. It sort of sounded unnatural for him. "I can't do this!" I knew Tim and Jamie were friends, but I never considered them "best friends." He never came to our house, not since I was a little kid, anyway, which I barely remembered.

"So what?" I shouted back. "He's not the boss of me. He can't control who I like."

"I'm flattered you like me," he said, calming down. "I mean, I know you like me. I'm sorry I kissed you. I shouldn't have. I'm sorry for everything. Maybe I should leave before...before..." His voice trailed off as he touched my cheek with his finger tips. Bringing my hand to his, I guided his fingers to my lips, kissing each one of them. "Jordan," he said quietly. "Jordan..."

"Jamie..." I said. He kissed my cheek, then hugged me, burying his head in my neck. The song popped back in my head, remembering Mom's voice...

"I can show you
That when it starts to rain
Everything's the same
I can show you
I can show you..."

Jamie squeezed me tighter, smiling against my cheek...

"Rain, I don't mind
Shine, the weather's fine..."

Jamie pushed me away, resting his forehead against mine as I continued to sing...

"Can you hear me
That when it rains and shines
It's just a state of mind
Can you hear me
Can you hear me..."

With our foreheads still pressed together, I changed my tune, returning to the Pixies. "With your feet in the air and your head on the ground..."

"Where is my mind?" Jamie continued. "Where is my mind?" We sang together. "Where is...?" Jamie interrupted the song with a kiss on my lips. I instantly kissed him back, parting his lips with my tongue. Our boxers were sopping wet, sticking to our bodies. I tugged at his shorts, pushing them down and just below his hips. I wanted to touch him and feel him against me. He backed away as my hand brushed over his crotch. I wanted to touch him so bad. So, so bad. Oh no, what'd I do now? I wondered as he straightened out his shorts.

"What?" I said, my lips still tingling, my body warm all over despite the pouring rain. He shook his head. "What's wrong? I want to. I want..."

"Come on, let's go in," he said, ignoring my comments. "Before you catch pneumonia."

"I'm not going to catch pneumonia," I said. "Am I a bad kisser?"

"No," he said. "Let's just go." As he went to touch my arm, I shrugged it away.

"Fuck off," I said and ran away from him and back into the house.

"Jordan!" he called after me. "Wait...Stop..." Ignoring him, I stormed inside and went straight to my room, slamming my door to make sure he knew exactly how pissed off I was. He ran after me like he so often did. He knocked on my door over and over.

"Jordan...Jordan, we can't do this. I'm sorry. I led you on. It's my fault. I'm sorry. We just can't. And I'm beginning to think maybe it's not such a good idea that I continue to stay here." I swung open my door, almost as furious as I was when I ruined my cheap earphones in the wash. "It can't happen. I'm ten years older than you." So? I thought to myself. "I'm leaving in September and I'm going to be gone for ten months." So?  "This is only temporary." Yeah, so? "I'm not the right guy for you." How did he even know that? I continued to glare at him, listening to his excuses and stupid rationales. "Tim would kill me." He paused, wondering what to say next, if anything. "Does he even know you're gay?" Gay? I never really thought about it...until now, anyway.

"Tim still thinks I'm ten years old," I said, choosing not to answer his question because I didn't know.

"It can't happen," he said definitively, but his eyes told me something different. I wasn't used to making such eye contact. His eyes were so very blue. Still, he pissed me off. Backing up, I slammed the door on his face.

A/N
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