In the bed I was supposed to be sharing with my boyfriend.
It would be too easy, and it wouldn’t be right. I was a grown man in a stable relationship. Things weren’t going well between Luca and me, but he was still my boyfriend. There could be hope for us. My family loved him, and we had a life together back in Milan. I might be avoiding him, and I might be full of doubts about our relationship, but cheating on him wasn’t the solution. Hurting him could never be the solution.
“I have a boyfriend,” I told James, trying to sound as neutral as I could.
James’ eyes widened and his cheeks flushed. He bit his lower lip so hard it turned white, which made my stomach twitch. I saw him stop breathing and I wished I could take it all back. I wished I’d just let him go home after he was done with the party. Why did I bring him here? Why did I flirt with him if I was going to reject him? What was I thinking?
James let go of my hand and sat up. I did the same and touched his shoulder.
“Hey, look at me,” I said. He hesitated but did as I asked. “I like you, James, and I’d love to get to know you better.”
“As friends?”
Hell no.
“Yes. If you want.”
He was biting his lip again. I was tempted to take his chin into my hand and shake it to free that poor lip before he ripped it off.
“Yeah,” he said with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “you promised to teach me ‘brichula’ after all.”
I smiled back at him. “It’s called ‘briscola.’”
“Isn’t that what I said?” He sighed. “It’s okay to be friends. It’s great. It’s not that I wanted you so badly anyway, I was just… I need to get laid.”
I was really tempted to reply, “Yeah, me too,” but I decided to just shut up. It wasn’t doing me any good to think of how it could be to have sex with James.
“Maybe you can, like, introduce me to someone?” he asked me.
No.
My stomach was on fire, and I had no idea why. Must have been the three hot dogs. Or maybe the hamburger. “I’ll see what I can do,” I said dryly, not really meaning it. I didn’t like the idea of James using me to find someone.
“I’m really awkward with people. I guess you can tell by now, but it would be impossible for me to hit on anyone here. Plus, I heard this place is not really gay-friendly. I mean, this is Italy after all. The Pope lives here and gays are on the church’s blacklist.”
He was rambling. I guessed he was probably embarrassed; I had just turned him down after all. If I had thought I was angry at him for a brief moment, that feeling disappeared as I saw him averting his eyes. It was stupid to blame James for wanting to have some fun. “Technically, the Vatican is its own Country. And trust me, the Pope doesn’t give a shit about us being gay. This place is not as homophobic as it used to be, so don’t feel like you have to hold back. God, you’re nineteen and you’re on vacation. You owe it to yourself to party like crazy and have fun.”
He smiled bitterly, with an expression that should never be on the face of a kid his age. “As you might have noticed tonight, I’m not the party type.”
I took a deep breath. I couldn’t be his lover, but maybe I could do something else for him. “If you stick with me for a week, I’ll prove you wrong.” I offered my hand to him for a handshake. “Challenge accepted?”
He looked at me uncertainly and quietly nodded his head. Then he shook my hand and finally, truly, smiled at me. “Challenge accepted.”
JAMES
We walked on the beach for hours that night, until the barbecue at the house was over. Roberto asked me about my life back home, about the ocean, the lakes, the big cities. He seemed genuinely interested in whatever I told him, and as we walked back home, I was confused.
Roberto had a boyfriend. Of course he did; men like him surely didn’t stay single for long. I wasn’t much surprised about that. I was way more surprised that even though he was a flirt, he didn’t want to have sex with me. It had never happened to me that someone I flirted with refused sex, regardless of them being single or taken. I didn’t think it was because I was irresistible or anything. I simply thought it was because everyone is willing to take something that’s given to them for free. No matter how ashamed I was of it, that was what I did all the time. It was the reason why I was called a whore by the other gay guys in school: I was easy. I had sex with people who didn’t want me and that I didn’t want, just for the sake of it. According to Dr. Westermann, it was because I had low self-esteem and tried to use sex to compensate for my inability to interact with others.
But Roberto didn’t want to have sex with me, and the reason was that he had a boyfriend. His boyfriend was one lucky bastard.
Even though I felt a bit humiliated that he had turned me down, I was glad he still wanted to hang out with me. I was aiming too high with him, but I still had the opportunity to look at him, talk with him, and maybe, if I was lucky, he’d hold my hand or touch my shoulder again. That could be enough.
When I arrived in front of the house, I found Mom sitting in the porch, smoking a cigarette and reading a book on her e-reader. She was waiting up for me, I realized.
“Hey,” I said quietly, not wanting to wake up Dad or Mary. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
She brought her reading glasses to the top of her head and put her cigarette out. “You forgot your key, as always,” she smiled. “So, how was tonight?”
“Good, I guess… It looked like you were having fun.”
“I surprisingly did. These people are really friendly. I’ve been invited for coffee tomorrow, so I think I’m one of them now.”
“Bring a gift, you never know,” I joked, and she laughed. I had missed that; joking with Mom. We had always been close, she and I; we’d comment on tabloids, go to the movies together, and randomly order some new foreign food for dinner that always disgusted Dad and Mary. She had been my best friend, until I had come out to her and Dad in the worst possible way.
“I’m glad you noticed how I was doing, before disappearing,” she remarked. She didn’t seem angry.
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t worry about it, but text me next time you come home so late.” She stood up and came closer to whisper in my ear, “He is very handsome.”
“He is very taken. One less thing you’ll have to worry about.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it even if he were single. He’s a good young man. And this… Meeting someone is good for you. It’s normal. It’s… healthy.”
That word made my throat hurt. “Mom, let’s not talk about that now, please.”
“James, we should be able to talk about it.”
The knot in my throat was getting bigger. I couldn’t breathe right. “No,” I managed in a painful whisper. “Leave me alone.”
I walked inside and went straight to my bedroom. Mary had left the door open, but I closed it behind me. Luckily, she didn’t wake up. The window was open as well, and a nice breeze was coming in from the backyard. I thought she might feel cold, so I covered her with the blanket resting at the end of her bed. She rolled over and muttered in her sleep, “Thank you, James.”