Sorry for the long delay everyone. Things have been pretty crazy for me having started a new job (actually 2) and just trying to get my life into some sort of regular schedule. Thanks for all the feedback and response; I love hearing from you guys.
Standard disclaimers apply. If it's illegal (though it probably isn't/shouldn't be), don't read it. If you don't like it, don't read it.
"How do you tell if a guy likes you?"
It was the weekend, so Mairi and I decided to do some roommate bonding. A lot of people I know give me weird looks when I tell them that I shared a room with a girl, but she was, hands down, my favorite roommate. She was fun to hang out with, but we also gave each other a lot of space so we wouldn't grate on each other. She had been with her boyfriend- a first year law school student at the time- for the past three years and she was considerate enough not to sex-ile me, opting instead to engage in her little trysts in the comfort of her boyfriend's apartment. Shame, he was kinda cute.
We were at Jamba Juice, because we both have horrible sweet tooths and don't ever have to watch our weight. She weighed about 90 pounds, and I loved to poke her belly and call her "fatty." So we were at a table, sipping our `Strawberries Wild' talking about anything and everything. That's why I love summer time, there's no stress about school and exams and shit. You can sit around all day and never have to be productive.
"Well," Mairi paused to light her cigarette. "Normally they try to get you into bed with them. Sometimes they'll be tricky about it and get you drunk or drug you."
"Guys drug people they like?" I must surely have been raised in the boonies, since my na‹ve self had never fathomed such an occurrence.
"Well, I bet some sociopaths do it. I mean, come on. There's a hot chick and he's totally obsessed with her, but she's like totally oblivious. A couple of roofies and he's got it made- instant gratification."
"You scare me."
Mairi laughed. "I hope you're not the druggie kind of guy who knocks poor innocent boys unconscious and drags them back to their den of sin." I could swear I saw her sucking her straw with greater vigor. Kinky.
"Well, as my roommate, I don't think I need to describe to you the current state of my sex-life."
"Point taken."
"So seriously, how would you tell if a guy liked you or not?"
"I guess it really depends on the guy," she said thoughtfully. "Like how much attention he gives you or if he acts differently around you compared to other people."
"What if he winked at you?"
"Hmmm," she paused. "It would depend on the context."
"Say we were at a party and he was talking to someone else about how he thinks I'm cool and shit like that. Then he turns and winks at me."
"Oh, so this isn't just a hypothetical question, is it?" Mairi said, raising an eyebrow with intrigue. "Who's the guy?"
"It doesn't matter if he doesn't like me."
"Oh come on, spill it."
"You remember Phoebe talking about that cute guy I worked with?" I resigned.
"Oh yeah! What was his name?
"AJ."
"AJ, like the guy from Empire Records." Mairi had the same taste in movies as I did: those that glorify 90s pop culture and those that kill your brain cells like `Dude Where's My Car?' She examined me some more. "Is he just as hot?"
"He's... cute," I said, blushing. I seldom mentioned anything about who I liked or found attractive- unless I was drunk- so I think Mairi took this conversation as an opportunity to find out more about my taste in guys. That was topic I never enjoyed.
All my friends would bug me about why I was still single, and Mairi was no exception. To them, they just couldn't grasp the idea that I couldn't find the right guy to be with. For me, it was simple: I didn't think I was worth it. Yup, demon of low self-esteem reared its ugly head. They all said I was cute, but I didn't think I was attractive. I mean, if I was another guy, I sure as hell wouldn't want to be with me as opposed to a gazillion other guys out there better looking and more emotionally secure. Why would anyone want a basket case in the first place?
Of course, I didn't let anyone know about these emotionally masochistic tendencies of mine. Half of the time, I wouldn't even discuss who I thought was cute; I must be a disgrace to all flamboyant gay men out there. But then again, why would I ever tell them about my stupid prepubescent crushes on the silliest of guys? I think Mairi would have a laughing fit if she knew that I had a crush on her boyfriend's roommate- a total clueless spaz who would fall asleep at his desk and wake up in a puddle of drool- just last year (but he was a cute spaz, to my defense). So instead, I would just shrug of the inquisitions and give them the impression that I was taking my time in finding Mr. Right. In truth, I wasn't looking for anyone- I gave up before even trying. Not that doing so was particularly hard; no guy's ever noticed me before. I guess I'm just invisible.
That's why I think the whole confusion with AJ bothered me so much, because he treated me differently from any other guy I've met. He didn't make me uncomfortable, and that was already saying a lot. But more importantly, he enjoyed spending time with me as much as I did with him. We'd listen to music and dance, which really meant that he'd move around with his fingers pointed at the ceiling and bobbing his head and hands while I'd mimic choo-choo-train going in circles. And though we'd behave like jackasses to each other and do all sorts of stupid shit, he actually paid attention to me and didn't treat me like a moron or something. I didn't know a lot of guys who did that.
And then there were those times when I just didn't know what he was thinking. Those times when I'd catch him looking at me as if he was staring right through me, or inside me. It was as if I was a thing of curiosity to him, and he had this look of studiousness on his face. Those were the times that frightened me a little, so I always tried to shrug them off and joke around.
My head must have been in the clouds, because Mairi had already finished her smoothie and was looking at me as if I had sprouted tentacles from my forehead.
"You weren't paying attention to anything I've said," she stated. It wasn't a question.
"Sorry, I was just thinking about stuff."
She shook her head and smiled. "I guess you must really like him a lot then."
"Whatever," I said, getting up from my chair. "It's not like it matters anyway. Come on, lets head back home."
I heard Mairi sigh behind me as she got up to follow. She knew these conversations were ones I never enjoyed.
My coworkers threw a big party for me on my 21st birthday at the end of July. They closed the store, drew the curtains, and brought out the booze. It was `Edward Forty-Hands Night', some twisted mockery of the Tim Burton film that only a drunken college student engaged in late night debauchery could ever concoct. We all had forty-ounce bottles of beer duct-taped to each of our hands as we walked around toasting to each other by clinking our bottle- strapped hands together. Eighty ounces of beer in the span of an hour can't possibly be healthy for you, especially when you have a low tolerance like I do, and I think I learned that the hard way.
Now, having ice-cold bottles slowly freezing your fingers is already uncomfortable enough, how any of us managed to dance with them is truly a feat. The floor was slick with beer as people slid and slipped against each other. It was a good thing it was dark and the lights were low, otherwise I'd probably have laughed at how utterly ridiculous we must have looked. Me, sandwiched between drunken girls screaming "James, we want your body!" Then, swaying our hips and clinking our beer bottles, we'd dance to Britney Spears moaning, "I'm a Slave for You." I love my friends and I like dancing with them, but I wish sometimes that I'd be sandwiched between guys, and not mammary glands. I was never a fan of the latter.
Tired, I left the throng for a breather. I was having fun so far, and even Monica was being nice to me. But having bottles taped to your palms also makes it difficult to perform a lot of other basic functions, like going to the bathroom, for instance. That's why I drank faster, though that may not have been the wisest decision. I blamed it on AJ yelling at me to chug. Damn him and his mischievous smile.
"Gay boys drink beer, James?" he asked me jokingly. I was bright red, and I don't think it was just because of the alcohol.
"Beer?!" I said, feigning shock. "I thought these were wine coolers! Those dirty sluts tricked me." I tried to flick my wrists effeminately, but only managed to spill beer on the floor.
"By `dirty sluts' are you referring to me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, you are a bad influence on me."
"Me, James? I'm hurt. Hurt to the core."
I laughed. "Good, you whore. You deserve it for corrupting me."
He patted me on the back. I didn't notice before, but he must have finished his beer some time ago. I still had half a bottle left.
"Come on, finish your beer and let's get out of here."
The crowd was starting to die out as people went in search of other parties nearby. The beer was all gone and so was the bottle of tequila that I hadn't noticed before. It wasn't even midnight yet, and I was already pretty drunk. Still, the night was young and it seemed that AJ had other plans in mind. I finished my drink as fast as I could, but I think my stomach didn't agree with it too well. That was one big-ass burp.
AJ laughed and shook his head. "Let's go James, hurry up."
We stepped outside and started to walk downhill, away from my house. Curious, I asked him where we were headed.
"Dude, we're going to where every person goes on their 21st: a bar."
"Why?"
"Cuz you can! Legally!"
My, what excellent logic; that must be how he got in to college.
"Wait," I stopped, searching through my pockets. "I forgot to bring my ID."
"You stupid little fucker. Well, let's be quick about it, then." He turned and started walking in the direction of my place, grabbing my arm on his way. To my surprise, he linked arms with me as we stumbled onwards. I giggled to myself and wore this silly grin all over my face. I don't think he noticed. We must have looked like total dorks, so it was a good thing there weren't too many people on the streets.
We entered my house, barging in on Angie, Mairi and Phoebe's Buffy DVD marathon. They looked surprised; I didn't bring my friends over too often. That was probably because our house looked like a total shit hole. Don't ever believe that girls are the tidy sex, they can be so gross when you live with them. And it wasn't entirely my influence.
"Hi," I greeted them, dashing upstairs to retrieve my ID.
"Hey," they replied. Angie's eyes must have still been glued to the TV when I was going up the stairs, but Phoebe must have turned and realized there was a guest inside, because I heard her below while I was in my room trying to sift through my junk in search for photographic identification.
"Hey, you're that guy James works with at the coffeehouse," Phoebe said. "Ummm." She was searching her mind for his name.
"AJ," he nodded. I found my drivers license and was just at the top of the stairs when he turned to me and yelled. "Yo, James. You got any alcohol here?"
"Uh, check above the fridge," I said, recalling that we may have had a bottle of rum still lying around. Captain Morgans is my best bud.
"Cool, I found it."
By the time I got downstairs and walked into the kitchen he was leaning on the fridge, taking shots straight out of the bottle. That was a tad gross, but I didn't really care much at the moment. I showed him my ID- the fruit of my endeavors.
"I hope you don't have oral herpes or anything like that, AJ, or I'd have to toss the bottle when you're done."
He lowered the bottle and looked at me. "You wanna find out?" he dared.
I was still rather drunk, so I wasn't sure if he wanted me to find out by drinking from the bottle or by mouth-to-mouth contact. Opting instead to decline his challenge, I just blushed and grabbed the bottle away from him. Settling it back on top of the fridge, I motioned for him to follow me outside. The bar was calling.
"Hey guys," I said, turning to the girls still on the couch. "AJ and I are headed to a bar if any of you want to come."
Angie and Phoebe shook their heads and declined, but Mairi looked like she was considering the possibility. Good, she needed to get out more often. She had turned 21 months before, but was never much into the bar scene. Maybe now I could corrupt her a little more.
"Hmmm," she said. "How long are you guys going to be there?"
"Not too long," I replied. "Now hurry up and get ready. You have two minutes."
She smiled and went upstairs to get dressed. AJ sauntered in from the kitchen and looked at me questioningly.
"We going or not?"
"Just sit your ass down for a second. We're waiting for my roommate."
He sat down and joined my roommates in their Buffy-worship. I never pegged him as a fan of those kinds of television shows. Then again, the absolute look of boredom on his face suggested that he was a bit impatient and eager to drink more. Ever the alcoholic, perhaps it was a mistake to take that bottle from him. Funny how it was: all we ever seemed to do was drink. But there's not too much else to do during the summer aside from work and get plastered. It's the true calling of every college student, I guess.
Mairi took considerably, though not unexpectedly, more than two minutes, but we were out the door soon enough and on our way. In AJ's mind, apparently, we had wasted a bit too much time, and he prompted me to walk faster. He did that by pushing me until I was practically power-walking. I'm surprised I didn't trip and split my skull, given the unevenness of the sidewalk, my lack of sobriety, and the force of his shoves. Oddly enough, I wasn't pissed at him doing this: I wasn't the only one giggling at ourselves. Mairi, on the other hand, decided to stay a few steps behind us and observe our asinine banter. Good for her, I think she got the better end of the deal.
By the time we arrived, I was out of breath and rather tired. Eager to sit down, I crashed into one of the booths with the soft, comfy upholstery while AJ ordered a pitcher (or was it two?). I was resting slightly on AJ's shoulder; I hoped he didn't mind. I was getting pretty sleepy so I wasn't paying much attention to the conversation between AJ and Mairi. It was probably about me. How embarrassing.
Unfortunately, my bladder finally caught up with the pace that I was drowning myself in, and I needed to hit the bathroom real bad. I got up abruptly and regretted it almost immediately. The blood rushing from my head made me woozy. I grabbed the edge of the table to steady myself.
"I have to pee," I said, walking unsteadily to the bathroom.
"Are you going to be alright?" Mairi asked. My inability to walk straight at the moment was quite obvious.
"Yeah, I'll be fine."
To be honest, I would have been perfectly okay. Minus the slight dizziness and the feeling of exhaustion from practically running the entire distance here, I was doing well. I wasn't nauseous, and that's a good sign. Apparently others disagreed about my state of being however, because once I returned to the booth it was only a few minutes until we were interrupted by this rotund bald guy who appeared to be in charge at the moment. That was also when I was trying to lie down because I was really sleepy. That wasn't the best of ideas.
"Is he okay?" the guy asked to my friends.
"Yeah," said AJ, "He's good. Just let him rest a bit."
"Well, he can rest outside. He better leave."
Well, he certainly wasn't the jolly sort. I was a bit put off at being kicked out of a bar not because I was too drunk, but because I was too damn tired. Who kicks people out for that? It's not like a puked over the floor or anything, and I wasn't causing a stir. This world makes no sense, really. You could be a nice average bloke and sit at a bar and be friendly, then close your eyes for a fraction of a second and wham! You get booted because sleeping is frowned upon. It's a menace to society, sleeping. Bad shit. I'm just bitter.
I was muttering under my breath about what an asshole that guy was, and Mairi probably heard me. She was holding me by my side, thinking that I might fall over or something. I wish people would have more faith in me and my ability to hold it in. And my ability to walk in a straight line. People just like to baby me some times, and I just don't like it- well, not all the time at least. This was one of them.
"Come on," Mairi told me. "Let's head home."
I turned to AJ, but he just shrugged at me.
"I think I'm going to stay here for a bit and chill with some friends."
Oh, he has other friends, silly me. Here I was thinking I was the center of his universe, but I guess these things don't work both ways. Still a tad buzzed, I was half- tempted to throw a pseudo-jealous tantrum; after all, he insisted that I spend all this time with him (though I was not unwilling to oblige). The least he could do was walk Mairi and I back home, especially after making us sprint here in the first place. Then I realized how utterly ridiculous I was for even thinking these things. Wow, I can be so selfish at times.
We were outside walking back to the house, and the cool air was refreshing after being crammed into a stuffy, dingy bar. Neither of us spoke to each other: I was too tired, but I guess she was too busy thinking about things. She didn't have much to drink, so I wasn't surprised she was still sober and capable of rational thought. It was only when we were about halfway home when she finally quenched the silence.
"So that's the guy." It wasn't a question. I must be incredibly obvious or she must be exceptionally perceptive. Or both. Probably both.
I sighed. "Yeah, AJ."
"He seems nice," she continued. "You guys get on really well together."
She turned and looked at me right in the eye. I couldn't tell if her expression was one of sympathy or concern. I frowned; I didn't do anything wrong did I? What am I getting myself into?
"Just don't get in over your head, ok?"
I grunted a reluctant yes. Everyone likes to watch over me, but no one gives me enough credit to take care of myself. Still, I wondered what she meant by that. I also wanted to know what she thought of him, noticing that she refrained from expressing her opinion in detail.
"Do you think he likes me?"
Mairi turned away from me and her face went back into that look of deep thought. She never answered. I don't know whether it was because she wasn't sure of the answer or if she just didn't want to tell me because the truth would hurt. That's if her opinion actually rang true (though it usually did). So she left me hanging, and my thoughts kept wandering even after we got back home and went to bed.
---------- projectilepolly@hotmail.com (and no, I am not a girl. There is a story behind the name)