The Paths We Chose

By Tyler Adams

Published on Jun 10, 2023

Gay

Chapter 9

Saturday afternoon, I was blankly staring at the television screen when my dad stuck his head into the room.

"Alex, I didn't know you were interested in ice hockey" he probed.

His voice startled me to the point that I jumped in my chair.

"Oh... ah, Phil said this was going to be a good match so I thought I'd watch it."

"That would be a good game, then?"

"What would?"

"The hockey game – hockey has games. Tennis and wrestling has matches. Who's playing?"

"Ahh, I think it's the Detroit Reds and the Hawks... the Philadelphia, Hawks."

"Maybe that would be the Redwings and the Flyers then. The Blackhawks are Chicago's team."

"Oh, I sighed. It seemed like I could I never say anything at home without having to be corrected."

"What's up with you today? You're like a caged animal waiting to be let out."

"Really? I don't know. I... I'm meeting some guys later to go skateboarding. I guess I'll work off some energy then."

"Well, whatever. Enjoy the hockey game" he said as he looked at me still wondering what was up.

I really was nervous. I think some of it was because of the things Phil had told me about Casey. I hoped Casey had thought about protection because I sure as heck wasn't going to go into any store and embarrass myself by walking to the counter with something in my hand that could only mean one thing to anyone who saw me. And I know what Phil told me about the other things he and Casey were into, but we weren't going to a party.

I got bored with hockey and went upstairs to browse around on the computer. Finally, at five o'clock I showered and tried to decide what to wear. I pulled on baggy cargos and tried adjusting them to where my boxers showed without my pants falling down. I put on my maroon short sleeve A&F tee, and then exchanged it for my dark blue, long sleeve one. I looked at myself in the mirror and decided that the cargos weren't right. Finally I came across my black Levi 501s in the bottom of my dresser drawer. Perfect! I had forgotten all about them. Every time I had wanted to wear them Daryl would swish his hand and said "Oh, sweetheart, the boys are gonna love those," so I'd put them back in my dresser drawer. "I hope you're right," I whispered to my brother's ghost as I squeezed into them and pulled and pulled to get the buttons closed.

When I realized that I was sitting on the edge of the bed daydreaming about my first date, I sort of wished things were different with me and mom so I could tell her about it. I looked at myself in the mirror, sighed, took off the tee, and looked across the hallway to Daryl's room.

I hadn't set foot in Daryl's room since before he died. The day after the funeral, mom had cleaned it, put all of his clothing away, placed a school portrait of him on the dresser, and closed the door, intending that no one should ever disturb her memories of him. I thought of the night he jumped into bed with me a week before he died to tell me about Stacey Miller kissing him when he got out of the swimming pool.

Quietly stealing across the hallway, I paused for a moment not knowing if I should disturb his peace, then reverently opened the door and entered. It was strange, because I almost expected to find him there IM-ing someone or playing a game online. Making my way over to his dresser, I pulled open the second to top drawer. There on top was his prized Michael Vick, Official NFL Gear, Eagles jersey. I picked it up and held it to my nose hoping to find his scent. All I smelled was the "spring freshness" of whatever fabric softener mom had used after she washed it. As I pulled it over my head, I made sure to tell him I was borrowing it. "Dude, it's yours – but you owe me," I imagined him saying, just like he had so many times before.

I quietly pulled the door to his room closed as I left. Stopping in the bathroom I dragged a razor across the bottom of my chin to shave off the dozen or so straggly hairs that grew there, then splashed some of my dad's aftershave on my cheeks. Looking at myself in the mirror, I declared to myself I was finally ready.

"Alex, where are you going?" I saw my mom catch her breath when she noticed what I was wearing.

"Skate park" I shot back, without looking at her. Then, worried that she'd already figured out that that wasn't where I was going, like she too often did with me, added rather defensively, "I'm meeting Phil and some guys. We might go to a movie."

"In your new jeans? I don't think so young man. Go and change. I didn't spend fifty-five dollars on a pair of jeans just so you could rip a hole in them the first time you wore them." I saw her sniff the air and look at me kind of weird. "And I don't care if you are going on a date, take your brother's shirt off," she spit at me as she spun around and headed back into the TV room.

"I'm not going on a date," I yelled at her defensively.

"Then why do you smell like you spilled your dad's bottle of aftershave all over you?"

"You don't have to be going on a date to use aftershave after you shave, you know."

Stomping upstairs for effect, I slammed a few drawers and waited for her to settle back onto the sofa in front of the TV before sneaking back downstairs, and out the door into the warm evening air. I told Casey to pick me up half a block down the road in front of old Mrs. O'Brien's house. After hiding my deck under her shrubs, I stood and waited for Casey. My hands were shaking so bad I started to wonder if I should forget the whole evening. When he finally pulled up in his mom's blue Neon, everything went spacey, but I managed to get the door open and climb in.

It was nearly eleven o'clock when Casey pulled up in front of Mrs. O'Brien's house to drop me off. My head was still spinning from the alcohol and pot we had consumed. ...and from the memory of some other things we had tried for the first time.

I was just about to pull on the door handle when Casey spoke up. "This was so cool, Alex. You want to go to a party with me next Friday night?

"Your mom have another doctor appointment?"

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Like she did tonight."

"Oh, that. I can just sneak out the window any time I want. She never knows I'm gone. It's ten bucks to get in."

Casey must have noticed my sudden coolness, because he immediately offered to loan me the ten bucks. That wasn't the problem though. If Casey could sneak out of the house without his mom noticing, then why had he told me before that he couldn't? Or if she's that out of it, then why couldn't he at least let me sneak in his window once in a while.

"I... I got the ten bucks. Can you get your mom's car?"

"She'll probably be sleeping by seven, so I can pick you up by half-past."

She goes to sleep at 7:00? I thought to myself. I was really starting to wonder what the deal was. Then when he told me he often goes to the guy's house on Friday nights I wondered why he had never invited me before now? He always made it sound like he could never escape from the house because his mom demanded him to wait on her constantly.

"Okay. See ya Friday, then," I told him as I pulled the door latch open.

Maybe my mind was just cloudy, but "used" was pretty much the right word to describe how I felt at the moment. ...Like I had been good enough for quick make-out sessions during breaks at work, but I wasn't cool enough to actually take somewhere important where I might be seen with him.

"This was so much fun, Alex" he said gently as his slightly parted lips moved toward mine. Must just be the pot I thought as our lips pressed together one more time before I climbed out of the car.

I went to pick up my skateboard from under the bush where I had left it, but it was gone. I'm not sure why I didn't put it in the car when Casey pulled up.

Mom must have been watching for me, because when I tried to sneak in the front door she was standing there scowling. I noticed that my skateboard was leaning against the wall beside her.

"Have a nice time at the park?" she asked with an edge in her voice. "...and I thought I told you not to wear those pants or your brother's shirt to go out," she nearly shouted at me. I felt her eyes scan me and worried that I had gotten everything back in the proper place. I must have, because all she said when she was done with her inspection was "...how did you get grass stains on Daryl's shirt if you were at the skate park, Alex Daniel Harper?"

I knew I was in trouble then. She only called me by my full given name before reason gave way to wrath. Dad, now standing in the TV room doorway and positioned so he could see what was going on, winked at me and had a slight smile on his lips. I don't know why, but I wondered if he thought I had "become a man" tonight. If he only knew...

I should have fought the urge harder than I did, but I guess I was still mellowed out from the weed we had smoked, and I started to giggle.

"Don't you laugh at me, young man," my mother hissed through clenched teeth.

"I'm not laughing at you," I told her, unable to control myself.

"Mrs. Obrien called to tell me you left that," she spit, pointing to my deck, "under the shrubs outside of her house when you got into someone's car. She wanted to know if I knew you had a girlfriend because she saw you and the driver kissing before you drove off. I was never so embarrassed in my life to have a neighbor telling me you were making out in front of her house."

The laughter stopped as quickly as it had begun. That's also when I found out pot does make you say stupid things – not necessarily untruths, but definitely things that you weren't planning to spill.

"We weren't making out like she said we were. I just gave him one little kiss, and we left."

I heard mom gasp. Fortunately for me, dad had stopped paying attention and was back to watching whatever it was that was on the TV.

"What did you just say?"

I could see the veins standing out in her neck. ...and that was before I told her to go do something to herself that no son should ever tell his mom to do – especially if he's within striking distance. Before the words bounced off the wall behind her, a stinging slap struck my cheek so hard I tasted blood in my mouth.

"Don't you ever talk to me like that again."

I bounded up the steps two at a time as she yelled "Do you hear me, young man? I won't have you going around saying things like that!"

I wasn't sure if she meant me telling her what she should do, me telling her what I do, or both.

Thursday after school, I was deep in thought thinking about tomorrow night when the doorbell rang. I had completely forgotten about Phil coming over.

"Ah..., you soon ready to go skateboarding," he asked.

"Give me a minute."

"Kay, I'll wait here."

"Make us some PB&J sandwiches to scarf down on the way over to the park" I hollered as I ran up the stairs two at a time.

I was back downstairs standing with Phil in the kitchen, my gear in hand as he was putting the finishing touches on our snack. We each grabbed a bottle of milk, and headed out the door.

Phil and I skated some, but I think he could tell that I was distracted, because try as he did, he never really got me to engage in any conversation.

"I gotta sit down for a while," he told me as he headed for a bench along the path where we had often talked before. I followed, and sat down beside him.

"What's up with you, dude? You've been a regular space case this past week."

I twitched my head a little.

"Does it have something to do with you getting together with Casey last weekend?" He playfully laughed, and gave my shoulder a shove. "What'd you guys do? ...or shouldn't I be asking."

"You still a Christian?" I asked.

"Yeah. Why? You want to go to church with me on Sunday."

Phil can be so naïve sometimes.

"Then I don't think you should be asking," I told him, ignoring his eager invitation.

"Sorry, Alex. Sometimes I don't think ahead before I say something," was what he said, but I think he was a little disappointed that I didn't just start talking. I mean what guy doesn't want to talk about those things even if they're not supposed to.

He dropped his deck on the path and shoved off.

The entire afternoon, I was hoping Phil would press me for information about Casey and my date. If he asked again, I had decided I would tell all even if it was something he "shouldn't" listen to. Actually, the reason I wanted to talk about it was because all week I'd been so stressed out by Casey's little "revelation" at the end of our date. Phil knew Casey, and I really wanted his opinion about what Casey was really like.

On our way back to Phil's house for supper, I finally decided to broach the subject.

"Did Casey ever lie to you?" I asked Phil casually.

"I don't know. I guess so. Why? Did he tell you a big one?"

"Yeah. Kind of."

"Let me guess," Phil said casually. "You mean about his mom?" he asked as he looked my way. "Wait a second," he added as he put his hand on my shoulder. Our eyes locked for an instant before he reached up and picked a blade of grass out of my hair. Wow, I thought. What was that about? Maybe I read too much into his action, but I sure felt something when he looked at me.

It surprised me that Phil would know about Casey's mom. What else did he know about Casey that he hasn't told me?

"You know about his mom being sick?"

"He told me one night when we were getting high, that they were putting her in a respite home. I think he lives with his grandma, now."

"Wait. So he has to take care of his gram?" I asked trying to somehow justify Casey's insistence that he couldn't see me aside from school and breaks from his job.

"I doubt it. She's not very old. The way he told me, she didn't really want to raise him, so they just kind of stay out of each other's way."

"He told me his mom has some disease and he has to be at home all the time when he's not working so he can take care of her." Phil's brow instantly shot up.

"That's not what he told me. He used to tell me I couldn't come over to his place because his gram didn't even want him to be there. We used to crash in someone's garage after we got wasted just so he didn't have to go home."

I felt sick to my stomach.

"What'd he tell you?"

I suddenly didn't want to talk about Casey's home life any more. There had to be some explanation. I mean my home, if you could call it that, wasn't something I wanted people to go around talking about either.

"That's pretty much the same as he told me," I lied. "I guess he just has it hard at home, then?"

"Seems like it."

"Thanks for the info," I told him, but in reality I was anything but thankful. I wanted to get in Casey's face and find out what was going on, and if he saw me as more than just a play thing. Truth be told, though, even though it made me mad, I knew I would never confront him. When I was with him, everything seemed different. It was like I was the only person in his world, and I liked that very much.

Next: Chapter 11


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