They Let Us Play With Markers, but I Keep Trying to Draw Infinity

It was obvious to anyone who took a chance to glance at Randy or the boys that they were euphorically happy. We must have had six or seven celebratory parties at Mikey's or Leif's or Jacob's. Basically anywhere we could drink and swear freely, and Mikey was very adamant about the latter part.

Because of Mikey's recent involvement, it was amusing to watch him and Leif get along "swimmingly" when they were drunk. Both would slur out dirty suggestions to Randy who, when she wasn't breaking down in a fit of giggles, was not amused and became extremely violent to the pleasure of both boys. However, when alcohol was forced to be absent, Leif would mostly glare at Mikey from some shadowed corner while he flirted with Randy which would either cause her to blush uncontrollably or to play into it and confuse the hell out of Mikey, but it also made Leif glare more violently.

None of us were sure how to react, and in truth, none of us cared because we were too distracted with our own awkward romantic entanglements.

When we were altogether, Jacob and Chuck were often found whispering in some corner. Toby and Ivy spent their time making out or playing Scrabble on Toby's iPhone. Leo was either sleeping, playing someone's piano, or eating and laughing hysterically and loudly at Randy and Mikey's inane antics.

Tristan and I did the best we could to block everyone else out by watching a movie or whispering in our own corner; which had caused us to get to know each other extremely well.

I was beginning to not care about commonalities. I just knew that I liked him, and I wanted him to ask me out, but it was looking an unlikely reality as each day wore on with no sign of him asking.

One Monday, just over a week before the big concert, we were all at Leif's watching Goldfinger. Leif, Randy, and Mikey were awkwardly lounged on the couch, each taking it in turns to quote or comment while the rest of us did our best to ignore the sexual tension triangle. It was getting really hard though, and I was beginning to wonder if Leif was in love with Mikey. I knew Randy would have immediately told me that Leif was in no way homosexual, but it just seemed too plausible that he was. Why else would he be so distant towards Mikey? Why else would they only get along when drunk? And it explained why Leif always felt the need to be a man whore – he was overcompensating!

I never said a word to Randy, though, and Chuck always seemed to be too busy with school or whispering with Jacob when it seemed like a good time to pull her away, and so I never could. Tristan was the only one I shared my notion with, and he was extremely willing to join me on it.

"Why do you think no one else's picked up on this?" Tristan asked.

"I have absolutely no idea," I said. "Usually Randy's the one with fantastic gaydar. Maybe she already knows, and she's not saying anything because she doesn't want to embarrass Leif."

"What's he got to be embarrassed about?"

"That he's got a crush on a straight guy."

"Mikey's not straight," Tristan said, giving me a confused look. "He's been 'out of the closet' since before I met him, and I've known him a long time."

I nearly choked on my drink at this revelation. I never in a million years would have pegged Mikey as gay. I wondered if anyone besides us knew, and immediately it hit me: Randy knew. Of course she did, otherwise she wouldn't have taken his advances so lightly.

But then, if Mikey was openly gay, there would be no reason to keep Leif's crush on him a secret. Meaning that Leif, therefore, did not like Mikey but...

"...Randy."

"What?" Tristan asked, having not been privileged to my train of thought.

"Leif's not gay!" I said excitedly. "He's jealous!"

"So, wait--"

"Exactly!" I exclaimed, cutting off Tristan. "He doesn't like Mikey, he likes Randy, and I don't think he's aware Mikey's gay!"

I don't know if I've ever mentioned that I have impeccable timing. It's truly a gift sometimes because the least important information was the most heard.

Someone had paused the movie at the same time that I was concluding my revelation to Tristan. I turned slowly, wide-eyed, to face the rest of the room. Jacob's was the first face my eyes landed on. His brow was furrowed, and he looked extremely disappointed.

"That's not a very nice insinuation to make," he said.

I glanced at everyone else, all wearing identical expressions, till I got to Randy, Leif, and Mikey. Leif was staring open mouthed at Mikey, completely stunned. Randy was shaking her head at me, holding back a smile while her eyes told me how utterly tactless I was. When I looked at Mikey, he burst out laughing.

"Fucking took you long enough," he said once he caught his breath. I vaguely pointed to Tristan, hoping to remove at least some, if not all, of the blame from myself. "Ah," he said in understanding.

I looked back at Randy and could hear her voice in my head: "You are so brainless, Joseybean."

Mikey's laughter, however, quickly and noticeably broke the tension in the room, and everyone went back to what they were doing or getting ready to do. Except for Leif who continued to stare at Mikey with a rather unattractive gobsmacked expression.

"Oh, my god," I groaned quietly, dropping my head into my hands. "That was horrible."

Tristan chuckled and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into a one armed hug.

"Don't worry about it. Everyone's already forgotten, and Mikey's obviously not planning to hold it against you."

"Oh but that was definitely one of the stupider things I've ever done in my life."

"Then you're not that stupid because it wasn't that bad," he assured.

"Except that I seem to have shocked Leif into a coma," I argued.

Tristan waved his hand. "He'll get over it before too long."

"No, I'm pretty sure I forced his brain to implode."

"Well, then we'll have to go visit him in the hospital. Say, lunch time tomorrow?"

"What?"

I had a small hope that I knew what he was getting at, but at the same time, I was surer that I just didn't get the joke.

"Yeah, that was bad." He chuckled awkwardly and scratched his chin. "I was trying to ask you to lunch tomorrow in a smooth, witty way."

“Oh.” I couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Well, I... What time?”

His face broke into a slow, wide grin. “1:30? I’ll meet you outside Girlfriend’s.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, a bit more than necessary. “Sure.”

I kept trying to sneak meaningful glances at Chuck or Randy, but both were so preoccupied with their own conversations that they never looked in my direction. Instead, I had to spend the rest of the night trying to have calm conversations with one of the cutest boys I’d ever met. And as an added bonus, he was into me too.

I could feel the years of Randy’s influence bombarding me at that moment because all I could think about was leaping forward with a growl, shoving him to the ground, and kissing him. Sadly, all influence of and advice given by Chuck was beaten to death with a rock by the tiny, imaginary Randy on one shoulder. Rest in peace tiny, imaginary Chuck -- who perhaps could have given me great advice to get me through my awkward, stumbling, distracted moments; which were not, in any way, eased by the tiny, imaginary Randy.

I would have to try to remember to beat her later. The real Randy, mind you, not the tiny, imaginary one. That would be crazy.

“What were you and Tristan whispering so secretly about?” Randy asked as I drove her, myself, and Chuck back to my house. “And did you keep looking around the room when you had a perfectly good looking boy in front of you?”

“You saw that?” I shouted.

“Love, it looked like you had a nervous twitch or something.”

“I was trying to get yours or Chuck’s attention to tell you something!”

“Oh?” Randy asked. It was hard to tell whether her innocence was because she’d had a little too much to drink or because it was one of her usual nasty tricks to rile me up.

“Yes!”

“All right, no need to shout. What is it?”

“I... don’t want to tell you anymore! But I will because I’m excited!”

“Just please stop yelling,” Chuck groaned from the backseat.

“Fine,” I sighed. “Tristan asked me to lunch tomorrow.” Randy snickered. I looked at her, confused, and asked, “What?”

“Use protection. I have some if you’re too embarrassed to buy them.”

The words were hardly out of her mouth when she began to crack up and Chuck along with her.

“You guys are horrible,” I said. “This is why I never tell you anything!”

“We’re sorry,” Randy choked out between guffaws.

“We really are happy for you,” Chuck agreed when she found enough air to a breath.

I shook my head and said nothing, just kept driving.

“What are you going to wear?” Randy asked after a while.

I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t really in a mood to answer; partly because I was angry at them but mostly because I was nervous about tomorrow.

“Aww don’t be mad, pussycat.” Randy purred and pet my hair.

“You need to wear that cute Christmas dress to show off your legs because legs are sexy. But you’ve got to wear pants to stay warm. And you should wear boots because they’re awesome!” Chuck said, pointing her finger at me sternly.

“It doesn’t matter,” Randy said bitterly. “He’ll just be thinking about what’s underneath.”

I decided to continue my silence for the rest of the night or at least until a majority of the alcohol wore off. When drunk, Randy tended to get a little moody and very pensive. Chuck, on the other hand, became quite giggly and talkative. I’ve been told that I tend to get very excited and friendly and more clumsy than normal. Because of this, I try to avoid getting drunk at all costs.

I pulled into my driveway and helped Randy and Chuck across the ice and into the house. It was far too cold to sleep in the basement so we tried our best to stumble quietly upstairs. Thankfully my mother was a heavy sleeper and the dogs were too lazy to see what was going on.

“You know what I think?” Chuck asked as I tucked her in.

“What?”

“I think you and Tristan are going to have adorable babies.”

“Babies,” Randy scoffed. “Sex! Love.”

I looked at her, waiting for an explanation, but she didn’t say anything. She climbed in bed next to Chuck and closed her eyes. I shook my head at my friends, changed into my own pajamas, and curled up in the big mamasan across the room.

I woke up to giggles, whispers, and rapid changes of light from bright to dark. Opening my eyes, everything was momentarily blurry. After I blinked a couple of times, I could see Randy and Chuck leaning over me, grinning, and then I noticed that my throat was dry because my mouth was, but my cheek and the cushion under it were soaking wet.

“Uleck,” I groaned as I sat up and wiped my cheek off on my shirt. “Gross.”

“Wakey, wakey,” Randy cooed.

“We have to make you pretty,” Chuck said.

I felt my stomach drop into my uterus. “Pretty for what?”

“For your date, silly!” Randy said.

“Oh my god, that’s today!” I slapped my hand to my forehead and dropped my head back, eyes closed. When I had fallen asleep, I had no idea. I was just surprised I even had. I was so nervous my eyes were twitching and I couldn’t get them to shut; that was the last thing I remembered.

“Up! Up!” they chorused, pulling at my arms.

“Shower. Now.” Randy pointed sternly in the direction of the bathroom while Chuck rifled through my closet.

I knew better than to argue. Without even getting to see what time it was, I marched to the bathroom, stripped down, and hopped under the hot water. It felt so good that I leaned against the wall and almost fell back to sleep, but then the fear of drowning to death jerked me awake.

“There,” I said upon reentering my room, “I have bathed.”

“Good. Sit,” Randy instructed, guiding me to my computer chair.

Immediately Chuck began to blow dry and fix my hair while Randy attacked my face with brushes of all sizes. I felt like a Barbie doll in the hands of a couple of very capable and extremely tall five year olds.

About twenty minutes later they were finally done.

“Put those on.” Randy gestured to my bed as they left the room.

I turned slowly in the chair, worried they’d picked out something that showed a lot of cleavage or curves, but I utterly relieved when I saw the dress. It was the same one I had worn at Christmas, just a simple black thing with pretty pink and yellow plant designs coming up from the bottom. And they had thankfully looked out the window that morning because there was a thick pair of tights next the dress and a comfy pair of boots on the floor. I thanked God for giving my friends the gift of foresight as I slipped it all on.

“I am ready!” I exclaimed as I opened my bedroom door on an empty hallway. I pouted when I noticed they weren’t there and tromped down the stairs, sad they had missed my grand entrance and completely determined to punish them by not making another.

“Hey, you’re ready!” Chuck said as I walked into the kitchen.

“Oh, really? Glad you noticed.”

“You be quiet,” Randy said. “We didn’t have to help you, you know.”

“And I’m very thankful?”

“Fuck yeah, you are.”

“Ugh!” I groaned. “This sucks.”

“Don’t worry,” Chuck said. “You’ve only got about two and a half hours before you’re supposed to meet Tristan.”

“Why am I ready so early?” I cried. “This is going to take forever.”

“Stop complaining,” Randy said. “We did you a favor.”

“No, you didn’t. You gave me two and a half hours of worrying about keeping my clothes clean, my makeup on, and my hair done. As well as two and a half hours of freaking out about today! It’s going to end badly. I know it.”

“It’s going to be fine,” Chuck soothed. “Where’s he taking you anyway?”

I shrugged. “No idea. We agreed to meet outside Girlfriend’s at 1:30.” I glanced at my watch. “Which is forever away!”

“Why is he meeting you outside Girlfriend’s?” Randy asked. “That place is full of crap.”

Again, I shrugged. “I don’t know. Oh, God! What if he’s buying me something from there? What am I supposed to do?”

“Threaten to buy him something even worse,” Randy said as if it were the most obvious answer.

“Not a viable option,” I said. Unlike Randy, I do not have guts or brawn or bravery or the gift of being a clever smart ass.

“Be a feminist and insist that he’s upholding the heterocentric, masculine dominated paradigm of our society by purchasing your affections.”

I blinked and looked worriedly at Chuck. “Okay, so... ‘Thanks, but no thanks. You’re upholding the... the hetero-masculine domination of our society by purchasing me?’” Somehow that didn’t sound exactly like what Randy said. “Oh, my god. What?”

She shrugged. “Just say you don’t like people buying you shit.”

I let out an exasperated sigh. “Why can’t you say that in the first place? You know my brain doesn’t work that way.”

“I challenge you to Guitar Hero,” Randy said.

“How on earth does that answer my question?” I asked, looking around the kitchen at everything.

“It doesn’t, but it does take your mind off the date,” she reasoned.

“True. Very true. You coming, Chuck?” I asked when I noticed she wasn’t heading downstairs with us.

“I can’t. I have to go shopping with my mom. I promised her we’d have a girls’ day.”

Randy scoffed as she descended the stairs and disappeared around the corner. I shrugged at Chuck’s confusion and wished her a happy day as I followed Randy. When I hit the bottom step, she was kneeled in front of the TV, changing the channel with a guitar strapped around her neck. She held out the other one as I got closer.

“Oh no,” I said. “I know what you’re going for, and I’m playing drums where I at least have a shot of finishing the song.”

“Whatever.” Randy shrugged and the opening chords of Play With Me began to rattle through the basement.

It took about two seconds to forget about nerves, about Tristan, about the time... I could have sworn we were only playing for about five minutes when Randy pulled her phone out of her pocket, looked at it for a second, and said,

“I gotta go.”

“Where do you have to go?” I asked, slightly confused that I no idea my friends had plans.

She winked. “You’re not the only one with a lunch date.”

“Date?” I asked. “Date with who!?”

“It’s not really a date,” she explained. “I’m just kidnapping the guys for food before band practice.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t keep the disappointment out. “I was getting all excited.”

“Psh, I don’t date. You know that.”

“One can hope. And I still will. Someday you’ll realize you’re a girl.”

Randy snorted. “I’m a drummer in a pop-punk band. How much less girly could I get?”

“But you still have boobs and the innate need to have children. It will catch up with you.”

“Whoa whoa,” she stopped me, holding up her hands, “what children?”

“Oh, please. Like you’ve never thought you’d like to have kids someday?”

“Nope.”

“You were the kind of kid who cut off Barbies heads, weren’t you?”

“Please never say that word to me again.”

I sighed. “Someday I will get you to dress pretty, and you will like it.”

“Nope!”

I glanced at my watch and gasped. “If I didn’t have somewhere to be right now, this conversation would be far from over... Just so you know.”

“Whatever you say, Joseybean. Have fun on your daaaate!” she said as she took the stairs three at a time.

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Someday she’s going to break her neck. And someday I’m going to stop saying the word ‘someday.’” I shrugged. “Someday.”

I bundled up as best I could without ruining Chuck and Randy’s work then headed out into the very, very bright day. For once, the wind wasn’t blowing, the sun was shining, the sky was clear, and all the sidewalks seemed scooped. I couldn’t help but walk the two blocks up to Main Street and one over to Girlfriend’s.

As soon as I walked past the window, Tristan popped out the door, grinning.

“Hey,” he said as I stopped in front of him.

“Hi.” It was impossible to keep from grinning just as wide.

“Hungry?”

“Starving. Randy and Chuck wouldn’t let me eat breakfast.”

“Why not?”

“Because they made me shower. I mean, not that I don’t shower often, but it’s easier to do someone’s hair by blow drying it first, and to do that it has to be wet which... shower.”

Tristan chuckled. “I get it. Don’t worry.”

“So, um, where are we going?”

“We’re here, actually.”

I looked around, unaware that we had even gone anywhere only to find that we really hadn’t. Right next door to Girlfriend’s was a tiny Italian restaurant called Café Napoli. I had always seen it but never been. Tristan held open the door for me, sweeping his arm to signal that I go first. It was rather gentlemanly and romantic, and his chivalry didn’t stop there. He even took my coat and pulled out my chair for me. Admittedly, it was rather overwhelming.

“So, how’s... how’s school?” he asked as we skimmed over the menus, waiting for, well a waiter.

“Um, on break,” I laughed.

“Oh. Right. I knew that.” He chuckled. “Have you registered for next semester yet?”

“Yeah. I did it last weekend. Well, we all did – Chuck, Randy, and I. We sat around in my living room, each of us with our own laptops, trying to figure out how many of the same classes we could take. When my mom came home, she asked if there was a nerd convention going on or something.” I rolled my eyes. “She’s such a dork. What about you and Mikey?”

“Mikey registered right before Christmas. He wanted to get it done as soon as possible so he’d be sure to get the classes he wanted, and so he could party through the holidays without worrying. I just registered yesterday.”

“Oh. Did you get all the classes you wanted?”

“Mhmm.” He nodded as a disgruntled waiter trudged over to us.

“Hi. My name’s Darren. I’ll be your waiter this afternoon. Can I start you off with something to drink?” he asked in a monotone. I could tell it was the same thing he had to say every day, day after day after day. As a fellow worker in the customer service industry, I knew how bad it could wear on you.

“Dr. Pepper.”

“Iced tea, unsweet with no lemon, please.”

“That was specific,” Tristan noted when Darren left.

“Not... really. I don’t like sweet tea or lemon, and they’ll ask about it so it’s easier to just spit it all out at once.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind and just nodded.

“So, uh, can you believe all the snow?”

“No! It’s crazy. This is the first real winter I can ever remember having. It’s kind of nice though. The snow on Christmas was the best part.”

“I was out of town for Christmas. My parents are from Colorado, originally, so we went there.”

“Oh. Did you ski?”

“Huh?”

“Did you ski? In Colorado. Are you one of those skiing families?”

“Oh, no. We don’t ski. At least I don’t. They might. I don’t know. I never asked.”

It was my turn to nod. At this rate, it was going to be a long, long day.