Young Volcanoes Chapter 11
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Young Volcanoes
~ by Billy Wright ~**
Do we all deserve a fresh start? Any and all thoughs are welcome:
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com
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Chapter 11
Second First Date
It would be an understatement to say that you're not excited to see me naked. You have the opposite reaction, actually. You get serious. Your face turns stern, your features grey and your eyes bored.
"What are you doing?" You ask. You try to sound neutral but I can sense the anger underneath.
"Nothing," I reply quickly. "It's just that my clothes were soaked and..."
You don't wait for me to finish. You walk out of the pool and, without looking at me, you cross the grassy backyard towards the terrace. I look at you, unable to decipher your actions.
I look down at my naked body. I thought you'd be excited to see me like this, maybe even horny. I thought you would smile like when I was 12 and poured milk all over me. I thought you were thinking of this too.
"Here," you say, coming back to me, tossing me one of the blankets. I take it and wrap it around my body. The blanket is not warm, it's cold but the excitement, the boldness I felt a moment ago has vanished. Only shame remains. "No more margaritas for you."
I take that as an insult. You think I can't handle my drinking?
We walk together towards the house. The silence is heavy, thick and I can feel it dragging my shoulders down. You carry all the clothes with you, soaking wet. When we enter your house you tell me to wait in the living room while you disappear behind the door. I suppose you are going to dry them.
I sit on the couch but I feel too stupid there, waiting, so I start walking around the room. That's when I see the stairs. I know I shouldn't but I follow them. Upstairs, there are hallways and an endless number of closed doors. I think about opening one but instead, I go up another story.
When I'm at the top, I take a seat and wait. I wait for God knows how long. But I wait.
"What are you doing here?" You ask when you finally find me, not inside one of the rooms but at the roof, naked but for a blanket over my shoulders. "You should go inside, get some sleep."
I take a moment. "Sleep?" I am not even looking at you. "I haven't finished the story."
"Johnny..."
"I haven't finished," I insist. I can feel that you're about to fight me, about to resist me, complain, and whatnot. But you don't. You just stand there and look at me. You say nothing. "Do you still want to hear how I fucked up things with Armando?"
You just nod in reply.
**
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We were in the early days of November when Armando and I had our third date. Or second first date, as we liked to call it.
Every day that week leading to it I would wake up and look at the sunflowers sitting on my desk. They shined a warm, living yellow with the morning sun rays coming through my window. They made me smile and believe me, there is nothing quite like having something to make you smile in the morning, just as you wake up.
That day was the day. It was early but I already had a message waiting for me to read it.
I hope you are ready, John. I'll plan the activities this time so you better go take a shower. Meet you at your house, 9:30 a.m.
I turned and looked at the clock on my night table. I still had plenty of time. Besides, it was Saturday. I stood up, and went straight into the shower.
No one wants to sound silly or be seen as over-excited but... I was. I spent almost 30 minutes in the shower making sure to reach every spot, shampoo every last hair, and checking I smelled as nicely as possible. My clothes were carefully chosen too. Nothing too fancy, but I tried to look my best.
I had a small breakfast downstairs. My mom and her long-time friend were there. As soon as they saw me, they asked me where I was going. I lowered my head. Was it so obvious?
"Nowhere," I replied. "Just out."
"Just out," my mom repeated, looking at her friend. "You heard that? He is just going out. He's so big now, didn't even ask me for my permission."
"He's probably going to the cemetery," he replied. "You know - to see if he can find a certain nice-looking skeleton."
I could've died of embarrassment. I served myself a bowl of cereal and tried to eat it in silence. My mom and her friend laughed out loud.
"I'm going to run some errands, Johnny. The bank, to deliver some files and give the Honda Civic a good wash-up." my mom said, heading to the door, her friend behind her. "And I was serious," she said. "I'll let this one slide but you do need to ask for permission or else..."
I sighed, mentally thanking my mom for not punishing me.
"See you later, Johnny," her friend said to me before following her out the door.
**
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"That was the last time I saw you," I don't expect a response and you don't give me one. I glance at you discreetly but you aren't looking at me. You are leaning against the guardrail, staring at the sky.
I walk to your side. The air is colder and sharper up here. The sky is still black above our heads but we've been talking for so long I don't know how much longer it will stay like that. The stars shine in your eyes. Were you always this handsome?
"So, that last day, you were having an amazing date while I was fighting with your mother," you look away, whispering to the stars. I can tell there's something on your mind but you are not spilling it.
"If I'd known that would be the last time, I would've..."
"I know," you cut me, your eyes still aiming at the stars. "I know."
**
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I didn't wait for long. Right on time, right on the spot, the doorbell rang at 9:30. I had to keep my nerves and excitement at bay. I was thrilled but I couldn't let Armando see my hands trembling. Like that, I opened the door.
"You are pretty on-time, I see."
"I'm not usually that punctual" Armando replied, repeating the words we said to each other on our first date. "Well, I am punctual but just for things that matter."
We both smiled. The fact that he still knew the words by heart meant that I wasn't the only one replaying that memory again and again in my mind. It was a great start for our date. I got out of the house, took the right keys, and we both walked up to a yellow car parked on the street.
"Our carriage," he said, extending his hands. "I hope you are satisfied, my dear John."
"Dear John?" I asked, shy.
"Oh, eh..." Armando started tripping with his words. "Sorry, I... I don't know, your name kinda reminds me of a movie or a fancy letter, you know, like the ones during the war. Dear John, sorry, it came out on its own."
"It's okay. I like it. Although, I'm not sure if satisfied is the right word. Surprised would be more accurate," I gave him a puzzled look. "You drive?"
"We only had one and a half dates," Armando opened the doors. "You still don't know everything about me, you know?"
I had planned everything for our first date - from the place through the activities right down to the bet. And yeah, knowing he had faked half his smiles that day did hurt me. But now, however, it was Armando's turn to shine. We drove for almost fifteen minutes. I was trying to guess where we were going but every time I asked, Armando refused to tell me. Finally, he parked the car.
"Okay," I looked around, "let's see." I had been to this part of town before so I wasn't completely lost but besides a gym, a few office buildings and some houses there wasn't a lot in the area.
"You are not going to guess," he said, closing the doors.
He was right. When we got there I still couldn't believe where we were. My mouth fell open and my eyes grew wide. "Is this...?"
"Oh, it is!" Armando led me into a big park in the middle of the city. There was a tent next to an area surrounded by a metal mesh. I tried to smile but I couldn't. Armando was excited: "Welcome to our second first date: paintball edition!"
Five minutes later we were both geared up, carrying paintball guns and about to enter the ring of destruction. Needless to say, I was crazy nervous. I looked at my hands. They were sweating, barely able to hold the gun which, for some reason, was way heavier than it looked. The gear, meanwhile, covered me but not perfectly. Yet, there we were, about to enter.
I turned to Armando. "Are we sure about this?" If he hadn't realized I was nervous before, he knew now. "Who are we up against?"
He pointed towards two people in front of us. "It's a 2-on-2 match against a team called The Skull Crackers," Armando didn't even sound concerned. "If it helps, imagine this is just a zombie game like the one in the arcade. Just like the zombie game."
To be fair, that did help. "Just like the zombie game, just like the zombie game," I kept murmuring as we entered the ring. It was a big open space with several objects to use as a cover, most of which were wooden planks, piles of furniture or tires, a car, and even a miniature house. "Just like the zombie game, just like the zombie game."
We walked towards the middle of the arena, right where the Skull Crackers were. They looked completely professional, all dressed in black and with their helmets covering every single inch of their faces. Armando's helmet and mine were just a pair of thick goggles that covered the forehead too.
"Hello, Skull Crackers," Armando greeted them, offering his hand. Both Skull Crackers took off their helmets and greeted him. To my surprise, there were no motorcycle dudes underneath those helmets. Actually, they were two women in their 30's. One of them had her skin covered in tattoos. The other had the biggest, most warm smile I had ever seen.
"Are you the Sunflowers?" The one with the big smile asked as we got closer. I looked at Armando and he just raised his shoulders. "You are kids."
"We are in high school," I corrected her.
I didn't know it was possible, but she smiled even wider. "This is going to be fun."
A loud horn roared through some distant speakers. The Skull Crackers put on their helmets back on and Armando motioned me to do the same. They ran to one side of the arena while we went to the other.
My pulse started racing, my chest was moving up and down like crazy. Armando must have noticed it because he then moved closer to me and said: "We lose when they hit us three times each. If you are dead or surrender, just point your gun to the sky. The game starts when..."
Once again, the horn roared through the speakers. Armando gave me a look and we both took refuge behind a big pile of tires. Not a second had passed when I heard a sudden burst of bullets punching right next to my body.
"Look out!" Armando said, shooting at where the bullets were coming from.
The panic was starting to accumulate inside me. I started crouching, backing away and taking cover behind the little house. I heard bullets raining all over the place. I closed my eyes and held my gun near me. This is nothing like the zombie game!
In the distance, Armando kept on fighting for the two of us. I was just listening since I didn't dare to look, else someone might shoot me. That's when I hear Armando let out a loud grunt.
"They shot him," I said to myself. I hadn't seen it happen but I knew it. For some reason, that made me feel awful. Was Armando out there fighting against two 30 something women while I was cowardly sitting behind a dollhouse? I wasn't liking the game but I liked the idea of abandoning him even less.
I took a deep breath. Then another. And another. "This is just like the zombie game, just like the zombie game, just like the zombie game!"
I did something stupid. I moved outside my cover and I started running and shooting like crazy. Yet, that was the thing of playing against professionals, like the Skull Crackers: they think you are going to give your best game too. None of them suspect that you are going to act in a completely, stupid random way.
I took the Skull Crackers by surprise and even though I didn't hit either of them, they were taken aback and had to run to take cover behind the car.
I reached a bunch of wooden pallets and took cover behind them. A little farther away there was Armando, with one finger in front of his lips, signaling me to be quiet. I nodded.
I didn't know what to do but having Armando there made me relax a little. That's when I noticed he already had two paint stains on his vest. "Shit," I murmured. He had almost been defeated while I was taking refuge. That started to fill me with adrenaline.
Armando then took a peek through a crack in the wood structure he was using as a cover and pointed to someplace to our right. I aimed my gun to where he was pointing. He gave me a sign, telling me to correct my aim. I adjusted it and, when he gave me a thumbs-up, I stood up and shot to where he pointed.
The paintball flew through the air and landed straight on the forehead of one of the Skull Crackers. To my surprise, she raised her gun. I thought she was surrendering but then I noticed two other shots she had on her. We defeated her.
I raised my arms in victory but right then a bullet hit me in the chest. It hurt. Not that much but more than I thought it would. I immediately took cover again. Armando was smiling in the distance, resisting laughter. It didn't last long, though. He pointed to the front.
"He is right," I whispered. "This is now two against one. We have to win." It was just like the zombie game, just like the zombie game.
Armando marched forward and I stayed behind, covering him. Shooting once in a while to make the remaining Skull Cracker nervous. I didn't know if it was working but at least I hoped it would.
I took a peek at the front and saw Armando a few feet in front of me. He was taking cover on the side of the car. I looked around in search of the last Skull Cracker when I spotted her. My eyes opened wide: she was behind Armando.
"Hey!" I shouted. "I'm here! I'm..." The paintball hit me on the stomach. Despite the vest, it hurt like hell. I tried to resist as best as I could and I started shooting at her like crazy. I hit her too. The Skull Cracker ran away, taking cover.
I moved towards the car, next to Armando. "Are you okay?" He asked me, looking at the paint stain on me. I was one shot away from losing and so was he.
"You didn't tell me these things hurt like a motherfu..." he looked at me, that was the first time he heard me curse. "But I'm okay."
Armando gave me a warm smile. "I thought you didn't know how to play."
"I don't," I replied.
"Really?" Armando gave me a look. "Because I think I just saw you saving my ass."
His words made me nervous. I knew he was teasing me but I still couldn't help but blush. "Well, I couldn't let them take that sweet ass of yours," I murmured, looking at him.
"Thank you," Armando said, leaning towards me. "Dear John."
I closed my eyes. It had been so long since I had kissed his lips that when I felt them touch mine, I almost couldn't believe it. The fire, the excitement, the adrenaline, and the happiness it brought me almost drove me crazy. There was nothing like kissing someone who knew how to kiss, yeah. But kissing that same someone in a battlefield was so much more exciting.
"Wait," I backed away from Armando. "We are..."
The bullets hit us without notice and with no mercy. They not only hit us, they rained over us. One after another and another, hitting every inch of our bodies, stomach, shoulders, googles, legs, and chests. The pain was metallic and sharp. It almost felt as if we weren't using vests. At the end, when the colored, rainbow rain finally stopped, the Skull Cracker took off her helmet. It was the woman with the nice smile.
"Losers," she said. "You are losers! But that kiss? My God, that was really sweet. I almost didn't want to shoot you."
**
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"I'm sorry," I said, taking off the gear outside of the tent. Several parts of my body were bruised and almost my entire outfit was covered in colorful spots of paint.
"What for?" Armando, in spite of our loss, was smiling. "You saved my ass over there. I should be the one apologizing. But tell me, was it fun?"
I opened my mouth. I wasn't sure what to say but even though I hadn't exactly enjoyed the experience, now that it was over, I was starting to appreciate it. "Yes, it was fun."
Armando made a victory gesture. He was being silly and it made me smile. "Now, are you ready for our next stop?"
"There's more?"
"Oh, there is," Armando nodded, taking us to the next place in his schedule. It was a big place with enormous windows. It was a restaurant, one I had seen many times but never dared to enter.
"The ice-cream palace," I said, looking at the gigantic doors. It was in the mall, the same mall where Buch's Japanese restaurant and the Taco Place Captain liked to go were at. "They have more than 500 ice-cream flavors here!" I was so delighted I almost ran inside.
When we entered, all eyes went straight to us. People were staring. I looked at them, confused until I realized it was because the two of us were covered with a million spots of paint, making us look like two walking rainbows.
As soon as we took a seat the waiters started approaching us. "We haven't decided yet," I told one of them but he gave me the weirdest, most puzzling, and aggressive look I had ever seen. Armando started laughing.
"This is not a restaurant, dear John, this is a buffet," I looked around and he was right. There were no menus or people taking your order. "Here, every few minutes a waiter comes from the kitchen with several ice-cream cups. When he passes by our side, he offers us some. We just have to take the ones we like."
My eyes were glued to Armando. I liked him. A lot. But taking me to an ice-cream buffet? I was head over heels for that guy. I tried everything: mint, vanilla, lemon, strawberry, avocado, peanuts, honey, pastrami, meatballs and spaghetti, and even a taco-flavored ice-cream.
"Did you like my surprise?" Armando asked me after my tenth cup.
"Oh, no," I replied while eating. "I hated it. I hate it here. Worst date ever," I turned to the waiter. "Can you give me another one of those?"
Armando's face lit up with a big smile. "Isn't this the best ice-cream you've ever had?"
"The best?" I didn't even have to think about it. "There is an Italian ice-cream place that is a little better but this is a close second."
For a second there, I thought he might get angry at me for not appreciating enough the place he took me to but he shrugged it off. "Well, who can compete with Italian ice-cream?"
"Have you ever tried it?" I asked.
"That so-called `italian' place, yeah. But real, authentic Italian ice-cream from Italy, no." Armando pushed aside his empty cup. "But I hope I can, one day. Not only the ice-cream, though. I want to go to Italy and have pizza, pasta and my very favorite: lasagna."
I smiled at that. Looking at him was like looking at a puppy playing in a park. "I see you are a pretty big fan of Italy, eh?"
"Well my father is Mexican, as you probably suspected, but my mother is Italian. But it's not just that; I like history and the Roman Empire is my favorite time period, also the food and the fashion industry, the wine... it feels like everything is perfect there." When he talked about it, Armando seemed to grow a smile on his face, his eyes would light up and his voice would acquire this hopeful tone. "Actually, I know I have never been there but I have dreamed about being there. I don't know if that makes sense."
I gave him a curious look. "Dreaming of a place you haven't been to?"
"Yeah, it may sound weird but I dream about being there. Like, in a vineyard or right in the middle of a Roman street. Alone, looking at the monuments and big tall columns surrounding me. Does that ever happen to you?"
"Not with a place I've never been to but..." I hesitated for a second. A memory came to my mind. It was a rather personal one but, for some reason, it just felt right to share it then. "There's this place I once went to as a kid. I was very little. It was back when my mother and father were together..."
"Oh, was that your mother's boyfriend, then?" Armando asked, probably remembering the moment he went to my house and gave me flowers.
"No, that was just a friend of the family," I said, not giving it too much importance. "This place is -or was; I don't know if it still exists- some sort of a spot in the middle of the woods. There was a lake, a small river, and a little town with big snowy mountains in the distance. There was a camping site close to the town but my mom and dad decided to go to the other side of the lake and sleep in tents."
Armando looked at me with a warm smile, "That's a nice memory." And then, right in the middle of the restaurant, he took my hand.
"Yeah, it's a memory but sometimes I dream about that place too," I said, squeezing his hand in mine. "So many years have passed and sometimes when I go to sleep I find myself there."
"That's beautiful, dear John."
"It is," and it truly was.
The two of us were there, covered by small splashes of paint all over our bodies, little rainbows of color while eating ice-cream until our bodies couldn't handle more.
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"That's you," I mention, sending a jet of water your way.
"We dated like that for the rest of the month," I say, leaning against the rail too. "Armando officially became my boyfriend a few weeks before Christmas which I didn't like because then we couldn't see each other as often since we were both busy with our families during the holidays. And, of course... later, I would have my big fuck up."
Initially, you don't look at me. Yet, you are still here, so I know you are listening. After a pause, however, you turn to me for the first time: "What about your birthday?"
"My birthday?" Your words take me by surprise. I don't understand what you mean. My birthday is at the end of November and you didn't get to see me turn 16 because, by that time, you were already gone from our lives. Yet... "Mom gave me the car, the blue Honda Civic." I pause for a second, waiting for your reaction. Suddenly, I think I know what you mean. "I know you helped her get the car for me. Thank you, really. I'm sure she would've thanked you too, you know?"
"I know," you say, but the smile you give me is weak and doesn't give away much. However, instead of falling again in silence, you move away from the rail and turn to me. "But, I have one question."
I look at you curiously. I am still wearing nothing but the blanket you gave me to put over me. The roof is cold under my feet and the air penetrates my body. Yet, I like being like this with you and, on some level, I think you like it too. "What is your question?"
"Okay, I know this may sound like it comes a little out of nowhere but ever since you mentioned it, I've been thinking about it..." you nod. "Did Captain ever tell you about the underwear he took?"
"What?" I didn't expect that question.
"After the Halloween Party," you explain, insisting. "You mentioned that he took your underwear."
I try to remember but the question is so random I can't decipher what you want. "Yes, but... to be honest, I never confronted Captain about it."
These words, for whatever reason, make you look away thoughtfully. I don't know where your mind is right now but I am certain that it is miles away from here, in a faraway and distant place.
I look at the horizon when a strong wind blows our way. I hold on to the blanket over my body but the air still manages to lift it above my waist. It only lasts a second but I manage to catch you peeking at my dick. A glimpse of mischief. Maybe we aren't as off-limits as you think we are.
"Why are you asking about that?" I take a step towards you. "I know it may seem weird but I took it as a good sign at the moment, you know?" You look at me, confused. "I mean, when Captain took my underwear with him I thought of it as if he was taking a souvenir, a memento. Something to remember that night even though we both said Vegas."
Your silence is crushing, the way your whole body is still and unresponsive. I almost stop in my tracks. But you heard my story with Armando. If I'm something in this world, it is persistent.
"You know," I say, moving even closer to you. "It was nice seeing you after all this time, and sharing all these things. You telling me about dad and me about Buch and Captain and Armando... it was nice." I swallow. Here's the moment of truth. I take one last step towards you and, trying to sound as casual as possible, I say: "if you want, you can do the same thing Captain did and keep the pair I was wearing today."
It's almost like a bomb. My words awake you from your slumber. "What?" You turn to me, looking conflicted, disgusted, and scared, all at the same time. "You are mad, Johnny."
You say nothing else, you just start heading towards the staircase.
"Oh! Come on!" I run towards you. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it!" You don't listen to me and keep walking. "Why else would you listen to my story? Every encounter I had with Buch, Captain, and Armando? Why would you tell me about my dad? Why would you tell me all that if you weren't at least a little bit interested? A little bit curious?" I am shouting, I don't even realize it but I'm shouting as loudly as my lungs let me. Yet, you don't stop. "I know I was a little kid when you met me, but I am not a kid anymore!"
You reach the door of the roof. Just when I think you are about to go, you turn to me. "So?"
I don't wait for it. I am done waiting. I walk towards you and, letting go of the blanket, I raise my hands to your face, holding you by the cheeks and plant a kiss on your lips. It is desperate and unexpected, yet you don't back away immediately. We stay like that for several seconds before, eventually, your hand on my chest pushes me away.
"Why the fuck did you do that?" Now you are angry.
I try to look for a reason. "I thought you wanted me to do it."
Your lips form a weak smile. It's not a happy smile but one full of desperation, disbelief, and tiredness. You are laughing out of pure annoyance. "For fucks sake, Johnny, don't you see? Are you so blind that you can't see it?"
"Can't see what?"
"I can't do anything with you!" You shout. "That day, the last day, Johnny, the big fight your mother and I had, it was about you!"
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I'm guessing some of you saw that coming, but for those who don't... surprise!
billy.alexander.wright@gmail.com
Oh, and don't forget to check my other stories:
* Us, For You
* Starboy
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