The Art of Faking Straight

Chapter Thirteen

          I've always been told that getting what you want can be just as difficult as not getting what you want. When you get exactly what you've always craved you have to figure out what to do with it, as opposed to when you never get what you've always wanted. At least if you never get it you only have to figure out how to do without it. I like to think that not ever getting what you want is far worse than actually getting what you want.

         Luckily for me, I don't have to worry about either of those issues though. I have what I want for the moment, and when I have him alongside me I can't decide if I want to keep him there forever or if he's simply just a chapter in the book of my life. Either way, I want the moments to go on forever, whether or not we go on forever.

         “What're you thinkin' about?” Connor asks as he lays his entire body down on the wooden porch. We're sitting outside, simply admiring nature and enjoying one another's company. It sounds silly and foolish, but it makes me happy knowing that we can do easy things like this without having to question whether the other is absolutely bored out of their mind.

         “Possibilities,” I tell him honestly.

         “What sort of possibilities?” he asks. His voice is soft, as if if he speaks up I will suddenly quit being truthful with him, but no. I don't see the point in lying to myself or him. Not really.

         “Of everything.”

         He looks at me for a moment, then slowly a smile spreads across his face. Within the little amount of time we've began to learn about each other, he's already realized that sometimes I don't make much sense at all, but that's alright, because he's also learned that it's what makes me who I am.

         “That's an awful lot to be thinking 'bout,” he says laughing.

         I look over at him, and I return his smile. He really is something else. “I know, but someone has to do it.”

         We sit there on his back porch in quiet peace for another thirty minutes before he jumps up and goes inside. His parents won't be home for two and a half more hours and Jack's at football practice which means Callie's probably waiting for him on the sidelines. It seems as if no matter how much I try, I can't get them to break apart from one another. Connor pretends it's not happening, but every time I mention Jack's name he gets an annoyed look on his face. He says he won't do anything, or even say anything, but that he doesn't want to see it go on. I can't tell if I want Jack and Callie's relationship to end for me or for Connor. Maybe it's for us both.

         Connor returns minutes later holding a glass of what looks like orange juice in a cup. He offers it to me and then motions with his head that we should go inside. I oblige happily, because it's getting chilly out anyways.

         “Thanks,” I say as I take the cup of juice from him. Orange juice isn't my favorite, but I can survive a glass or two.

         We go into his living room again and he sits his glass on the end table as if he has absolutely no interest in it. “Wanna play some more video games?”

         I nod, even though I'm not the biggest gamer. I'm content. Happy. Satisfied.

         We begin to play some game with zombies and I realize that although he likes video games, Connor's not the best player. Nonetheless, it's fun to just goof around and enjoy a nice carefree evening.

         ~.~

         My phone begins to ring loudly. I ignore it at first but after it rings for the fourth time Connor sighs loudly and pauses our game. Realizing that he's annoyed, I grab my phone to put it on silent. Mom's back home now, if anything is wrong with the kids she'll be able to take care of it. They don't need me to do everything for them.