“HAPPY FUCKIN’ BIRTHDAY TO ME!!!!”
I felt Kent pulling me back into the car by the back of my belt. “Dude,” he laughed, “chill!”
We had just left the stadium at DeKalb College where all of our home football games were played. It was a beautiful night, not only because I’d been drinking, but early fall in Georgia is always awesome. Kent had picked me up at my house earlier in the evening to take me to the game. The game plan was to do what most high school kids do: drink. And since it was my birthday I decided to drink heavily. Kent had made some sort of concoction that he kept in a cooler in his car, and we would head out at the end of each quarter to drink a couple of cups of whatever it was.
Only thing was, the cups were those giant cups from Little Caesars Pizza. So let’s see, one on the way to the game, two after the first quarter and I was feelin’ mighty fine, bitch! There were still some of my classmates that couldn’t get used to the idea of me drinking anything alcoholic. I guess that comes from being a nebech (look that one up) for so long. Anyhow, when I drink, I talk and sing and dance a lot. Must be the gay gene.
During the second quarter of the game I spent most of the time being the little drunken social butterfly, talking to everyone I knew (and a few people that I didn’t) in the stands. Kent and I had met some other friends, including Charles, but they were at least somewhat sober and stayed in one area of the stands. Not I, says me! I’d make my way over to a group of people that I knew, yenter it up for a bit, then head over to the next group.
I ran into Deanna from my Spanish class.
“What’s up, ho!”
“Oh my God! Look at you! You’re a mess Lyons,” she said.
“Yes ma’am, I am.” I said in an exaggerated Southern drawl.
“What have you been drinking tonight?” she said with a smile on her face.
“Nothin’ baby, just must be some strong Coke in this cup,” I slurred, holding the cup up.
“Yeah,” she laughed along with her friends. “Sure.”
“Welp. What’chall up ta?” I asked.
“The football game, dumbass,” she replied.
“Oh,” I said, turning to look at the field. “Is that what we’re doing here.” I gazed at all of those great football asses. The cheerleaders were between the stands and the football players, who were lined up along the field. In the middle of some cheer they all jumped up into splits. “God, now those are some fine asses,” I said.
Deanna smacked me in the shoulder. “Asshole. They’re not pieces of meat.”
She thought I was talking about the cheerleaders. I was meaning the football players and almost said so when I noticed one of the guys looking up towards us in the stands. I squinted my eyes a bit to see who it was. Alan Collin. Shit. I held my cup up in a mock toast. When he saw that I had recognized him he broke out into a smile and nodded his head in that cool jock way. Alan and I were getting along really well in Spanish. You gotta keep the hot ones close to you, I think. Anyway, he and I had fun just goofing off in class being, well, goofy. He had a serious side too, but normally we just kidded around with each other. While not openly gay to anyone at school I had no problem flirting around with him and a few other guys, as long as I didn't go overboard with it.
I should tell you something here. No flashback. When Don and I were in gym class together the previous year (remember me telling you this before?) he had started working with me on the weights. I was still shy about how skinny I was but I really enjoyed how good it felt to work out. Through the summer he and I would work out here and there in his garage, but mostly I would use my brothers’ weights in the basement where it was more private. Though small, I was actually achieving some definition in my body. It wasn’t the healthiest thing to do but I started drinking a milk shake every night before I went to bed. I wasn’t too concerned about it because my metabolism was that of a freight train, but I needed to bulk up or put on weight somehow.
Back to the football game. During half-time our marching band put on one hell of a performance and I went back yentering with my friends. Oops! Drink break! Kent and I headed out to his car for some more of our preferred beverage, whatever it was. I’m surprised that they let you back in the gates with an outside drink, just from the standpoint of not letting alcohol into the stadium. Oh well, who was I to complain. I felt like I was on a flying carpet.
We headed back into the stadium and back to our friends, then I spied Deanna again. She was talking with a gaggle of girls when I came up to her.
“Hellooooo,” I said, very cheerfully.
All the girls laughed at me. “Paul,” one of them said, “you’re such a nutcase.” She started giggling.
“Sounds like you’ve had some taste, too, girly-girl,” I told her. They all laughed at that. “Man, I just really like people after I’ve been drinking.” I said; again, laughter.
“Even her?” Deanna said, pointing to Michelle Alpert.
Michelle was a cheerleader, and a very stuck-up one at that. She held her nose so high that she’d probably drown in a rainstorm if she wasn’t careful.
“Yeah, right,” I said.
“That bitch is so damn stuck up, and I don’t even know why,” the giggly girl said.
“Well, lemme ask her,” I said and walked towards her, amidst the gasps from the girls.
“Honey! Michelle. Baby I need to ask you something,” I said, nearly staggering over to her.
She turned and looked at me like shit on a palate. “Yes?”
“Honey, why do you love yourself so much?”
“Why not?” she said, without even thinking! Damn!
“Well, right on, baby!” I said. I walked away laughing and tripped on someone’s feet. I fell a little bit sideways and threw my hands out in front of me before I hit the seat, one palm landing on the concrete platform (and I never spilled a drop).
“Oh man, I am so sorry! Are you okay?” the guy said.
“Yee-haa,” I said. “Yeah, man, I’m alright. You?”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.”
He was kind of a skinny guy and was sitting with some of his friends. Well, I assumed that they were his friends. “I’m Paul,” I said, introducing myself in only the way a drunk person can. Overly friendly. “Paul Lyons. I don’t think I’ve met you before, hoss.”
“I’m Mike,” he said extending his hand and laughing at my obvious drunkenness, “Mike Logan.”
“Wellll. Nice to meet ya, Mikey.”
He laughed a bit at that. “Someone’s thirsty,” he said to his friends, and they laughed. “Whatcha drinkin’?”
I leaned over closer to him. “You know?” I whispered, “I have no friggin’ clue! You oughtta try some. But you can’t! It’s mine!” I stood back up and laughed at myself. “We’ll see ya Mike,” and I walked off back towards Deanna and the other girls.
“See ya,” I heard him say behind me.
“Well,” Deanna said, “what did you say to her?”
“I asked her why she loved herself so much.” They all died laughing but I kept a straight face.
“Did she say anything,” from giggle puss.
“She said, ‘why not?’, so I said ‘right on!’” The one girl kept giggling ridiculously. “Girl, what the hell are you laughing at now?”
“Oh, now she’s just checking out one of the football players.” I hadn’t noticed that they’d returned to the field and were all lining up again at the benches again.
“Which one, maybe I can gechyou a date,” I said. I was drunk and would do and say anything at that point.
“Don’t worry about-“ she started to say but Deanna interrupted her.
I looked down at the field. There he was. Twenty six. Hmm. Tall, nice build. Great friggin’ ass. I saw that Alan was talking to the guy and said, “I’ll be right back.” I headed down the steps and onto the racing track that surrounded the football field. “Hey buddy, how’s it goin’?” They both turned to look at me.
“Paulie,” Alan chuckled a bit. “You havin’ a good birthday, man?”
“Welp. It could get better, if ya know what I mean,” I nudged his arm in an over-exaggerated way.
“You gonna get lucky tonight?” he joked. He and I had clicked into a really easy banter from practically the first time we met in Spanish.
“Only if I win the lottery,” I said dryly. “Or if you drop your pants.” I turned to the guy next to him, number twenty six. “Hi y’all doin’?” I laughed. Liquor makes you so damn stupid.
He just laughed. “Not as good as you are, pal.”
I smiled at him. “You damn skippy.” They both laughed at that. “I’m Paul, baby, good to meet ya.”
“I’m Scott, baby,” he said, still smiling. Perfect fucking smile! “Nice ta meet’cha Paul.” I noticed that he had a slight drawl, an almost redneck accent.
“You new here? I don’t recognize you, Scott.”
“Scott used to go to school here,” Alan said.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, looking back at Scott.
“Yeah. I went to go live with my uncle last year. Some family stuff I had to help take care of,” he said. Sounded like he didn’t want to go into it. Cool.
“Ah. Well then, welcome back!” I clapped Scott on the arm. “Ooh. You be strong!” I said. Turning to Alan, “I gotsta get to the gym mo’ often, maybe I can beef up like this one,” my head unsteady on my shoulders.
“Thanks, baby,” he laughed. Apparently the guys liked making fun of how I talked.
“Y’all goin’ over to Jessica Balfor’s house tonight? Her mom’s out of town and she’s havin’ this…like…HUGE-ass party.” At this point I wasn’t seeing one ball field, I was seeing three and all of them were sort of unclear. “Whoo-ee! Wish I knew what was in this cup!” I said looking down into it. They both laughed at that.
“We’ll be there, if you don’t think they’ll mind a junior hangin’ out,” Alan said. “You goin’?” He always had this way of looking right into my brain when he looked into my eyes; or maybe that was the alcohol messing with my mind some.
“I will if you will,” I said, to which he laughed. “But y’all? Please take a shower, ‘cause” and I paused to look around then said in a quieter voice “I don’t like my men sweaty.” Then I busted out laughing at my own stupid, and gay, joke. They laughed as well, and I was glad for that.
“Yeah, we’ll head out over there,” Scott said.
“Cool. Scott, BABY, nice to meet ya.”
“You too, baby.”
“By the way,” I said to him as I walked off, “great ass!” Scott and Alan both died laughing. “We’ll see y’all.” As I walked off they both turned back toward the field. Looking back at them I read Scott’s last name on his jersey: Dell.
I got back up into the stands and passed by the guy that I tripped over. I was feelin’ really happy, and there was an empty space beside him so I sat down. “H’ar you?” (That’s southern for ‘how are you’. Duh.) He looked over at me and just laughed.
“I’m still fine Paul, how are you?”
“Right on, baby! So, Mike, right?”
“Mm hmm,” he nodded.
“How come…I’ve never met you before. I mean, I know soooo many damn people, of course drinkin’ makes you friendlier, but I think I’ve seen you before… Whoo! Can you stop this stadium from spinnin?”
He and his friend laughed at me.
“Well? Seriously, aaah’ve seen you in something…somewhere. Hell, I don’t know.” I was teetering on the edge of complete drunkenness. “You a senior?”
“Yeah. I don’t think we’ve had any classes together, though.” This was entirely possible as there was over three hundred people in our class alone, and around nineteen hundred in the whole senior high school. “Dude-“
“Please!” I stopped him. “Call me Paul,” I nodded. “D’ja know it’s my birthday?” I said matter-of-factly.
“Sorry hoss, I missed out on that,” he smiled.
“I KNOW!!!” and I slapped his knee then died laughing. “Hey, y’all like pizza?”
“Yeah,” they both said, chuckling.
“Well, now listen hear. We’re all goin’ over to Pizza Hut after the game, then to Jessica Balfor’s house for a party. Why’on’cha come on over,” I slurred. “There’ll be a…shitload of people there.” I leaned up and looked over at his friend. “What’s your name pal?”
“Well Frankie, you can come too.”
“I don’t know…” Mike said.
“Hey pal, there’ll be a ton of people and I’m sure you’ll know a lot of ‘em. Plusss, ahhh’ll be there, which of course, ahh’m the only person you need to know anyhow.” Then I laughed again at my own stupidity. “Ohhhh, I’m so damn funny,” I said quietly, looking around the stands. They busted out laughing again at this.
Mike and Frank looked at each other, then back at me. “Yeah,” Mike said. “We’ll go.”
“Great! Just head on over to Pizza Hut after the game. Whooo! I’m gonna need some food to absorb this fuckin’-ass drink, goddamn…” I got up to leave. “We’ll see y’all.”
“See ya,” they said, shaking their heads and smiling.
I finally got back over to Deanna. “Wud up ho!”
“Your mama’s a damn ho.”
“Oh my!” I said and sat down next to them.
By now I was just at that point of buzzness or drunkenness, whatever you’d call it, that I knew that if I had anything else to drink I’d either puke or go into that state where you recall absolutely nothing. I really needed to get some food in my stomach. I decided to quit drinking at that time. Or at least slow down. See? Who says drunks can’t think well.
“Well what’d he say,” they asked me.
“The guy you just went to talk to?”
“Oh Mike?” I asked pointing over at him.
“No dumbass!” Deanna said. “The football guy.”
“Ohhhhh! Duh. Umm. Well…I didn’t quite tell him about you. Sorry.”
“Good!” giggly girl said.
“Well what in the hell were you talking about then?” Deanna asked.
“Um.” I tried to remember. Party, yeah. That’s it. “The party at Jessica’s tonight. I asked them if they wanted to come.”
“Alan?” she asked.
“Yeah, and Scott.”
“Well, that’s your cutie-pie, number twenty six! Let’s see…Scott…damn what’s his last name. I think he’s friends with Alan.” I sure remembered his ass but I couldn’t tell… ”Dell!” I hollered. “Scott Dell. That’s it! Didn’t think I’d remember that one, did ya,” I said and winked. Only I was trashed so I had to coax my eye back open.
“Well, Pop Eye, did you say anything about Cammie to him?” Deanna asked.
“Who the frig’s Cammie?” I was puzzled.
“HER!” she said pointing to the giggly girl.
“Ohhhh! Well hell, I didn’t know her name. Nope, I didn’t mention you. Just started joking around… But they’re coming to the party. So maybe you can see them there?”
Deanna rolled her eyes. Cammie seemed glad that I didn’t say anything to Scott. But that’s really sorta seventh grade. Do you like me? Checkbox yes, checkbox no. Yeah, like boozing it up on your seventeenth birthday is really mature.
“Hey, I met someone else,” I told them.
“Surprise, surprise,” from Deanna. “Who.”
“That dude over there. Mike…something.”
“Logan?” from Cammie.
“Yeah! That’s it. Mike Logan. You know ‘im?”
“Uh-huh. We’re in chorus together. Y’all remember him; last year he played Eugene in ‘Grease.’” Cammie said.
“No shit!” I looked back over at Mike, who was about fifty feet away or so. “That’s him?!”
“Is he really that nerdy?” I asked, remembering the role in the musical.
Cammie laughed out loud. “Well, he’s really pretty funny and he’s a really sweet guy.”
“Gay.” Deanna announced this like she’d tell you that your dinner was ready.
“Excuse me?” I asked.
“Gay. Way gay,” she repeated.
“And now how do you know that?” I asked her.
“Dude, he like, worships Barbra Streisand-“
“You know him?”
“No! It’s just what I’ve heard.”
I rolled my eyes at her.
“Well! He doesn’t date anyone-“
“What do you have a gay guy’s ingredient card or somethin’?” from Cammie.
“Whatever,” Deanna said putting her hands on her hips, looking up at the sky.
“Well, I hope it isn’t a problem, ‘cause I invited him to Jessica’s house too.”
“No problem with me,” they said.
The rest of the game was pretty boring to me because, again, I don’t really like football. I like the outfits. Or how snugly they fit. The idea of men crashing into each other just doesn’t do it for me. I left the girls and headed back over to Kent, who was actually watching the game and let him know that I was not up for anymore of his crazy potion that night. Of course I was free to change my mind about that. My state of mind amused him greatly. The game ended and we beat the other team by three points. Our school went nuts because it was really a close call up until the last few moments before the game ended when one of the big guys with pads and a uniform reached some damn place called the ‘end zone’ and scored a touchdown.
We were all cheering in the crowd when the team started to leave the field. Alan and Scott wound up next to each other again, high-fiving each other. Ahh, male bonding. How lovely. Alan turned and looked up into the stands. I kept clapping and saluted to him. He waved to me, then slapped Scott on the butt in that jock way. They all walked off towards the field building where the locker rooms were and disappeared inside. Hmmm. The idea of a sweaty man is really, really not an aphrodisiac to me. Sorry.
So everyone in our group and Kent and I headed out to the parking lots, then over to Pizza Hut. That’s when I started hollering out the window to some of my friends in their cars, and Kent pulled me back into the car. I guess he didn’t want us to become targets to the cops. Smart move.
We got to the restaurant and told the lady with the beard that we needed a table for twenty. After all this time of going to Pizza Hut on Friday nights after football games it was still funny to see them shit themselves when we all came in after a game. While we were waiting for them to set up our tables I chatted with a some of the others for a while. Kent kept laughing, telling me he’d never seen me so damn wasted before. Finally the bearded one let us know that our tables were ready and we all went inside. I was the last to go in and I spotted Mike and his friend Frank walking up from the parking lot.
“Hi y’all doin’!” I said. Or hollered.
“We’re fine man,” Mike said, chuckling a bit.
“Come on in and set right down and make yourself at home,” I sang to them. It was an old country song that was Patsy Cline’s opener and I always liked it.
“Dude,” said Frank, “you’re so lit.”
“Mmm-hmmm,” I responded happily.
The guys came in and recognized a bunch of the other people that were there. There were a few cheerleaders and some non-seniors, but hey we were all having a great time. Mike and Frank ended sitting near some of the other people so we didn’t get to talk much.
About an hour later we’d eaten and I was sobering up. Some. Kent was completely sober, though I don’t know how, considering we were both drinking a lot. I confirmed with Mike and Frank that they knew how to get to Jessica’s house. This was a silly thing to do because everybody knew where she lived, right near the school. She was one of those breezy, blonde, air headed types. I doubted that she was capable of independent thought but hell, a party’s a party so who cares.
Kent drove myself and a couple more people over and we were followed by Mike and Frank, along with some other cars. We pulled up to Jessica’s house and it was like a scene from "Sixteen Candles". All of the lights in the house were on and cars lined the driveway, which stretched from the street for about two hundred feet. The house was one of those five-four and a door; five windows up, four windows down with the front door right in the center. Very traditional with three dormers upstairs in the attic. I’d never been to a party there before but had heard about them.
As we were leaving our cars this dopey broad, Vicki Delmatto, came running out of the house bawling because her boyfriend, some dude named Charlie, had broken up with her. I still had a bit of a buzz going and laughed at her. “Ha! Drunk spaz!” I said as Kent shoved me towards the house. Rumor had it that her now-ex-boyfriend Charlie had nailed the biology teacher. Gross. I remembered Charlie from elementary school and he and I were okay friends in seventh grade. Around the ninth grade he became a jock and an asshole who had no time of day for me. Oh well. At least I didn’t fuck the biology teacher, dumb ass!
We walked into the back of the house where the den was. The house was laid out in a traditional manner, with the formal living room at the front left side, foyer in the center, dining room at the right front side. The kitchen was at the back and opened up to a huge den that you stepped down into. In the middle of the kitchen was a staircase that ran up to the second floor. Four bedrooms were upstairs and another staircase taking up to the finished attic. Well, it was finished but there was no furniture up there. I think at one time half of it was used as like a dance studio for Jessica. Whatever. The other room in the attic was pretty cool. Everyone who’d been to the house for a party would sign the walls in pen or marker, so you could basically look at the walls and see a few years’ worth of names from our high school. Pretty cool idea, actually.
The first floor was packed with people and all of us just started mingling. Most people had a drink in their hands but I went ahead and grabbed a water. I had learned hanging out with Don that the more water you drank the less chance you had of having a hangover. Kent went off somewhere and I just started talking to whoever was right there near me. A little while later I was standing near the steps to the den when I felt someone goose my ass and say “There you are!!! Paulie!!!” I turned and saw Alan standing there. Mike and Frank, who’d just come up and started talking to me, laughed.
“Hey-hey! S’up man!” I said.
He put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Dude, I thought you said you’d be here.” Hmm, was that two drinks or six speaking?
“Alan. I am here, “ I said to him and we all laughed.
“I am so glad.” He kept shaking my shoulder. “I felt like a jerk until you got here.” Oh God. Drunken confessions.
“Why’s that pal?”
He paused for a second. “I don’t know,” then he died laughing.
“D’you mind if I have my shoulder back?”
“Nope.” Only he kept his hand there. “You can’t have it back,” again with the laughter.
Just then Kent came up and handed me a cup. “Here,” he said. I have a feeling you could use this about now.”
“What’sssthat?” from Alan. I could see that Mike and Frank were amused.
“Horse piss,” I said. “Flat horse piss.”
“Oh, I wanna try it,” and he grabbed it from me and took a sip. “Mmm. Thisssis some good shhhit! I want some,” he said, finally taking his hand from my shoulder.
“I’ll bet you do,” I said, placing my hand on his neck.
Alan smiled and raised his eyebrows a bit. “More than you know.” We all laughed at him and he goosed me in the ass again.
I was still laughing when I looked over and noticed that Mike’s face was frozen. He almost looked like someone had drained his life’s blood. No longer did he have an expression of someone drinking and laughing, but one of a deer in headlights. I was turning to see what he was looking at when Alan threw an arm over my shoulder and turned me the rest of the way around. About fifteen feet away was his friend Scott whom I’d met that night on the field, and who Mike was watching.
“Scott!” Alan hollered. Scott turned and looked, smiled, then walked over to us. Perfect fucking teeth!
“Alan, Paul. Hi y’all doin’?” he said.
“Scott, this here’sss my friend Paul. Paul, Scott.”
I started laughing at him. “Dude, we met at the game, remember?”
“We did?” Alan said. Yeah, he was buzzed.
“No buddy, Scott and I did. Glad you could make it,” I said to Scott.
“Thanks.” He was holding a beer and seemed to be pretty sober.
“Scott,” I said, “I’d like to introduce you to-“ I was saying. I turned to Mike and Frank but they were gone.
“To who?” he smiled.
“Shit, they were right here,” I said, letting Alan go to look around into the den. “I guess they took off. Oh well.” I happened to glace over at the back door and saw Mike and Frank leaving the party and glancing back our way.
“You having a good time?” Scott said, still smiling. The guy was really hot.
“I sho’ am,” I nodded.
“Cool,” he said.
“Hey man,” Alan said, “have you seen the room upstairs?”
“The signature room?” I asked.
“Nope. But I’ve heard about it.”
“Y’all wanna go see it? Check out who’s been here before us?” he asked, looking between Scott and I.
“Yeah,” I said.
“I’m gonna grab another beer, I’ll be right up,” Scott said.
Alan and I headed up the stairs and then found the other set leading up to the third floor. There wasn’t anybody there and he kept goosing me all the way up.
“Dude, I’m not one of your football buddies,” I said, laughing. Kent’s drinks were suuuuure potent.
“No, but I wish you were,” he said, and then died laughing as though he’d said the funniest thing on earth.
We saw the dance room, then he stumbled into the other room with all of the names written on the walls.
“Dude you are sure tanked, aren’t you,” I said.
“Mm hmm. Sometimes ya gotta be to do things.”
“Oh really,” I raised my eyebrow. “What kind of things.”
He smiled and giggled at me like a four year old. “You’re so funny!”
I laughed out loud and started looking at the names. There were two dormers in the room with window seats in them, and one window at the side of the house. I was near one window when Alan said, “What a damn view.”
Without turning I said dryly, “Please don’t check out my ass right now. I’m drunk and don’t know if I can resist you.”
He snorted at that.
There must have been hundreds of names on those walls, as high up as you could reach, hundreds of them. In blue, black, red, green. Ink, marker, hell, even some paint. Names I recognized and a lot that I didn’t. I don’t know who’s idea it was, but it was a cool one.
We had made our way around the room when Alan spied something over one of the dormer windows. He was in front of me not watching where he was walking, and his foot hit the window seat. He lost his balance and was falling towards the window. Even though I’d been drinking I was able to react quick enough and I grabbed the back of his shirt and his belt buckle right above his ass. I pulled him back up but he lost his balance again and started falling into me. I turned a bit and ended up with my back against the side wall of the dormer. I must have still been holding onto him when I spun, because he spun around and was facing me, tripped over his own feet and landed against me. Chest to chest with his hands planted on either side of my body against the wall.
Our faces were inches apart and we both started breathing real heavy. We just looked into each other’s eyes. Breathing fast. I could feel his pecs beneath his shirt on my upper chest. His biceps were flexed as he was propped against the wall. That fuckin’ amazing package was pressed against mine. I felt like I couldn’t get a breathe.
Finally he spoke. “It’s amazing what alcohol can do, isn’t it,” he said, seemingly more sober than he was before.
“Mm hmm,” I said.
“Liquor gives you a whiskey muscle,” he smiled.
“What’s that?” I said, still breathing heavy and looking into his eyes.
“You know, it gives you the ‘muscle’ to do things you might be afraid to do when you’re sober,” he said.
We stayed there, staring at each other for probably five seconds, but it felt like an hour. “So,” I said, “Why would you need a whiskey muscle?”
He just grinned. I could feel his crotch getting bigger, along with mine.
“Something tells me,” I said, “that’s not a whiskey muscle I’m feeling right now.”
He pushed his crotch into mine slightly. “I’m stuck,” he smiled.
I thought I’d cum in my jeans right there on the spot. In all my seventeen years I’d never had any kind of sexual…anything! I’d kissed a couple of girls when I was in seventh grade but that was it. Here’s this mega-hot guy leaning into me. I was terrified a bit because I had no idea what to do next. Well okay, I did, but I was just freakin’ out, mentally.
Alan tilted his head a bit and was slowly closing in when we heard someone coming up the stairs. “Y’all up here?”
In a flash Alan pushed away from me and turned to start looking at the signatures again. A second later Scott came through the door and I was standing there with my jaw dropped.
“Catchin’ flies?” he asked me with a smile.
I blinked fast, closed my mouth and mumbled something.
Alan interrupted. “Scott. Check this out man.”
I tried not to move so attention wouldn’t be called to my boner. Oh well, what was I worried about. Scott wouldn’t be checking me out anyway.
We finished up looking at the walls. Alan seemed to stick close by me. Scott and I started talking about bullshit and he seemed like a really nice guy. Finally we headed downstairs.
“Hey Paul,” Scott said on the way down, “you got a ride home?”
“Yeah, I’m taking him home,” Alan said. I guess that sealed it. This night might actually go somewhere.
“Um, yeah. Alan’s giving me a ride.” Alan found this uniquely funny. Scott was rounding the stairs and turned back to look at us, then shook his head.
“Y’all are nuts.”
“Mm hmm!” Alan said a little too enthusiastically.
When we got downstairs Kent came up to us. “There y’all are!” he said. “I’ve been looking for you, Paul. Ready to head out?”
“Hey man, I’m giving him a ride,” Alan interjected, again.
Kent just looked at me, sort of weirdly.
“He and I live a couple blocks apart,” I said.
“Oh. Well,” he said to Alan, “you’re not leaving yet, I take it.”
“Nahh. We’ll head out in an hour or so. Have some time to sober up,” Alan replied.
“Well, I’m takin’ off. We’ll see ya,” Kent said.
“Me too,” Scott said.
“Wait,” I said. “Scott, I thought you came with Alan.”
“No, we came here separately.”
“Oh. Okay. Well it was good meetin’ you. We’ll see you.”
“Take care. We’ll see y’all later. Good game, Alan.”
“See y’all,” Alan and I said to them.
Standing there watching them leave Alan said, “You ready to head out?”
I turned and looked at him. He turned to me. Thankfully all the other people there were oblivious to us. “It’s now or never, buddy,” I said to him.
He smiled, and I smiled back.