Cruel Summer: Part 1: Chapter 3 "Pleasure Worth All the Pain"

Close to 7 p.m., Tommy and Drew are waiting for the bus to arrive. Originally, Drew wanted to come by himself, but Tommy took one look at him and told him he was coming too. “You aren’t doing that kid any good if you kill him the second he gets off the bus.” With his already miniscule patience stretched taut, Drew now realizes that Tommy has a point. There’s a strange quality about Tommy that makes everyone around him calm, as by some secret Tao technique he can banish all conflict by his mere presence. Whatever the reason, Drew needs that calm like Jer needs cigarettes.

“So what’s the deal with you and this Jake kid?” Tommy asks. He’s been waiting for the right moment to ask that, and the terse minutes of anticipation are starting to get to him. So he asked. “Why would he call you out of the blue like this? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talking about him. Cory, yes, and a couple others, but not a Jake.”

Drew doesn’t want to talk about it. “No regrets” is his motto. He tries to ignore the past once it is gone, but this time, this day, the past is coming for him. He cannot avoid it. So that’s why, for damn near the first time in the two years they’ve been roommates, he opens up to Tommy and tells him about being a teenager in Stent’s Cut-Off.

“He was a freshman on my soccer team when I was a senior. He must have been fourteen then. I’d been friends with his older brother, and our moms are business acquaintances, so I knew who he was, but I can’t really say that I’d known him before then. He was,” Drew pauses, blushing a little, “very cute when he was fourteen.” The blush increases, and Tommy tries not to gawk. He can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen Drew embarrassed, and not even use his thumb.

“Naturally, I wanted him. I even kissed him when I split a bed with him on an overnight field trip once. But, of course, I already had a boyfriend. A real meathead named Braden. Football player and everything. Possessive fuck too. Anyways, I’d never seriously considered being with Jake until, when we started hanging out more, it became pretty fucking obvious that he wanted me as badly as I wanted him.”

Tommy becomes confused on this point. “So what stopped you?” Drew has no real impulse control when it comes to sex. Tommy knows this better than anyone, having spent many nights “sexiled” from their room.

“Besides my six-foot two-inch boyfriend? I don’t know. I guess I was hoping Jake would be more than a cute face. He was pretty cool, you know. Someone I could relate to. More importantly, Jake was someone I could be out with. I was so sick of lying to everyone, but Braden would not let me come out. Jake would have though. He danced with me once, at a party, when Braden wouldn’t. Gave the rednecks an eyeful.” Drew smiles at the memory, and it isn’t his usual predatory, knowing smirk, with his head tilted and eyebrows slightly raised. This one is easy, genuine. “Not that anyone really cared. The true hicks were far and few, and besides, everyone knew I was crazy. Jake surprised them though. They thought he was too innocent for his own good. He was, but that was part of the attraction.”

Tommy asks, “It sounds like he was perfect.”

“Well, he wasn’t. By the time I got him to the point where he’d have the balls to admit his feelings, and I was ready to dump Braden for good, Jake flipped. Said he was totally straight, and that I’d been barking up the wrong tree.”

Tommy almost points out that this is not usually a problem for Drew, but decides some tact is due.

Drew isn’t finished. “It gets better too. That summer, when I went back for the rest of my stuff the couple of days between Summer Start and the regular school year, he came to my house and confessed everything. That he really did have feelings for me, that he was sorry for lying, blah, blah, blah.” Drew makes the requisite talking-hand gesture. “He even said he loved me. I told him that I hated him, that I didn’t give a shit about him anymore, and that if he ever came near me again, I’d kill him. And then I went and kissed him.” Most might be shocked by that last detail, but honestly that’s the most Drew typical behavior of the whole story. “And that’s the last time I’ve talked to him, almost two years ago.”

“Do you still love him?”

“I never did.” Drew states, but he doesn’t look at Tommy when he says it. His attention is on the bus stop. “Hey, I think this is it.” He gets out of the car.

Tommy looks. It is indeed the bus, so he gets out too. On impulse, Tommy grabs his hand and holds it as they walk to the now idling bus. Drew looks down at their joined hands, and decides to make nothing out of it. He needs Tommy’s special reassurance now anyways. He can see Jake.

The two old lovers/friends/enemies stare at each other, and neither finds they can move. “Jesus Christ,” Drew swears. His grip tightens in a reflexive attempt to show no reaction. Jake certainly has grown up. What used to be bottle-bleached blonde hair that earned Jake the nickname “Peroxide,” is now chestnut brown, and by the looks of it, light as air, catching any odd breeze or gust. It’s cut shorter than it used to be too, showing off his angular features. And he doesn’t move in the haphazard fashion of one amidst a growth spurt; this kid knows how to use his body. Hell, he looks older than Drew, who’s 20. He’s definitely bigger than Drew is. Washed up and in the right outfit, no bartender would question his presence. But maybe that’s just the lines starting to form in the corner of his cat’s eyes. Jer, master of the cliché, would call them “haunted.”

Jake is similarly stunned. Drew hasn’t changed a bit. He still has the look of a person with no cares, attachments, or anything else tying him down to reality. He still looks free. Jake has often dreamed of seeing Drew again someday; even when someone says they hate you, a first love is hard to get rid of. Aren’t they supposed to be forever? Jake thinks so, but he never thought he’d see Drew in circumstances like these: broke, homeless, in desperate need of Drew’s generosity. And with some other guy holding Drew’s hand.

“Hello there,” the guy in question says when they get closer. “My name is Tommy. You must be Jake.” He lets go of Drew’s hand, and offers it to shake, but Jake doesn’t return the gesture. He’s too busy looking at Drew.

“Long time, no see.” Jake says in a lame attempt to break the moment. It’s funny, just two minutes ago Jake was tired, near tears, and in the kind of emotional whipsaw that romance novels are born from, but now all he’s focused on is that he’s once again near his version of god. Or the serpent, depending on how you look at it. The serpent does not respond.

Tommy looks back and forth between the two. “Well, come on, it’s getting late. Why don’t we stop for food on the way back? Unless you rather we just go straight to the apartment for you to shower?”

“Whatever is easiest,” Jake says. “I guess I do look like something the cat left on a porch.” Tommy chuckles.

To everyone’s shock, Drew reaches out to Jake, rubbing his face around the eyes, clearing away a little of the dirt. Jake winces when Drew finds the bruise. “Did she do this to you?” Drew asks.

“Yes,” Jake says. He’s not the type that blushes easily, but his cheeks do feel warm when he admits this.

Drew nods in understanding, a rare feeling for him. “Let’s get you home Jake.” He pulls the younger boy into a half hug, and starts to lead him to the car.