East Avenue
11
“You okay?”
I nodded without looking at him, running both my hands over my face as he opened his front door, I let him go through first and he narrowed his eyes slightly before walking in. I didn’t like the expression, it’s something I see so rarely that I both find it interesting and dissatisfying. The curl of his eyebrows, the flat line of his lips. I see it when he’s pissed, but it’s never been directed towards me. Towards a C- on a History essay he procrastinated until the morning of but swears he pulled off B+ work, towards the fourth rerun in a row of Dirty Jobs because he’s into that kinda shit and they should know it’s what makes his week worth getting through most of the time, aside from some good ol’ chill time with Garrett. Never me. This thing I’m doing, being nicer, trying to be something I’m not but if I tried hard enough, I could be because I want it. It’s not easy. I shouldn’t have guessed it would be.
“I’m fine. Your neighbor-”
“I get it.” I sat down, pulled him next to me and wove my fingers with his for three seconds, four seconds, five seconds before he jerked away, standing up. “Garrett! Seriously… goddamn. What are you doing?”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and Joey’s anger returned. I recoiled away from it. It wasn’t ugly, no, I found it to be the opposite. More captivating than usual, I wanted to engrain it in my memory for something to fall back on when something else made me anxious.
“Don’t play stupid, don’t you fucking do that. Not when it comes to this, this- touching, being polite, acting like I’m suddenly the person you want to go for walks on the beach with, wake up to in the morning, dance around to Cher in the kitchen while we fucking bake! I’ve dealt with this before, it’s like you go through stages or it’s some kind of game with me. Even Margaret’s said to give up! Her, of all people. Obviously I don’t listen to her since forty percent of the time she’s off the deep end, but I mean. She’s had her points. You’re an asshole, I know you are. I’ve known since the day I met you, Garrett. But sometimes it doesn’t matter, not when you care about a person enough to take that kind of shit from them. It’s never mattered.”
I’d fucked up, maybe I knew before and maybe I didn’t care, but it was clear. The look in his eye like it was so hard to believe I would ever think twice about him. Bailing on him yet counting on him to always be there in return, best friends or not, a part of me always knew he’d react if I showed the slightest bit of interest. So easy to take advantage. To have that kind of knowledge and power over someone? It’s an ugly thought, I shoved it out of my mind because Joey doesn’t deserve it. His facial expression remained guarded but curious more than anything. Maybe somewhere inside me there was an apology ready to spill out.
“It’s hard to explain.” He started to interrupt but I spoke over him, “I like you, Joey. You make me feel normal, like you’re the only good thing left in the world worth being interested in. Worth being there for. And it’s always been that way. I treat you like shit, I make you read books I know you don’t care about. I know. That doesn’t mean I don’t need you, doesn’t mean I don’t know I can’t take you for granted anymore. You’re beautiful.”
His face was red now, ducked down so I couldn’t see anything but the shadow of him biting his fingernail. “What’s changed? We’re best friends, we were shit talking daytime television, reminiscing good times, and eating our way through my kitchen yesterday. Nothing’s different. No fuckin nuclear apocalypse next week to scare you into feeling something that’s not real. So why now?”
“I don’t know, that’s going to have to be good enough. Trust me.”
“It’s not! Not when I can’t understand what’s so different about me. I mean you had an anxiety attack because of someone five feet away from us about ten minutes ago. It just… I-I can’t make sense of it. And I’ve tried to for years. You're a part of me man, thinking of all the shit we've gone though together. But it's always been, why does Garrett hang out with me? Why does Garrett talk to me? Pathetic, yeah. Screw you. But you do that to me.”
“I’m not a freak when I’m around you.”
He licked his lips, and I watched as a small smile spread across his face: it lit up the color of his skin and the curve of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes. Joey sat back down, and pressed his lips against mine. He tasted like familiarity and felt rough and secure.
“Fuck it. I’ll take this.”
The statement, the giving in, it sounded broken and torn coming from his mouth. I didn’t mind, and hopefully eventually he won’t either.
I nodded without looking at him, running both my hands over my face as he opened his front door, I let him go through first and he narrowed his eyes slightly before walking in. I didn’t like the expression, it’s something I see so rarely that I both find it interesting and dissatisfying. The curl of his eyebrows, the flat line of his lips. I see it when he’s pissed, but it’s never been directed towards me. Towards a C- on a History essay he procrastinated until the morning of but swears he pulled off B+ work, towards the fourth rerun in a row of Dirty Jobs because he’s into that kinda shit and they should know it’s what makes his week worth getting through most of the time, aside from some good ol’ chill time with Garrett. Never me. This thing I’m doing, being nicer, trying to be something I’m not but if I tried hard enough, I could be because I want it. It’s not easy. I shouldn’t have guessed it would be.
“I’m fine. Your neighbor-”
“I get it.” I sat down, pulled him next to me and wove my fingers with his for three seconds, four seconds, five seconds before he jerked away, standing up. “Garrett! Seriously… goddamn. What are you doing?”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and Joey’s anger returned. I recoiled away from it. It wasn’t ugly, no, I found it to be the opposite. More captivating than usual, I wanted to engrain it in my memory for something to fall back on when something else made me anxious.
“Don’t play stupid, don’t you fucking do that. Not when it comes to this, this- touching, being polite, acting like I’m suddenly the person you want to go for walks on the beach with, wake up to in the morning, dance around to Cher in the kitchen while we fucking bake! I’ve dealt with this before, it’s like you go through stages or it’s some kind of game with me. Even Margaret’s said to give up! Her, of all people. Obviously I don’t listen to her since forty percent of the time she’s off the deep end, but I mean. She’s had her points. You’re an asshole, I know you are. I’ve known since the day I met you, Garrett. But sometimes it doesn’t matter, not when you care about a person enough to take that kind of shit from them. It’s never mattered.”
I’d fucked up, maybe I knew before and maybe I didn’t care, but it was clear. The look in his eye like it was so hard to believe I would ever think twice about him. Bailing on him yet counting on him to always be there in return, best friends or not, a part of me always knew he’d react if I showed the slightest bit of interest. So easy to take advantage. To have that kind of knowledge and power over someone? It’s an ugly thought, I shoved it out of my mind because Joey doesn’t deserve it. His facial expression remained guarded but curious more than anything. Maybe somewhere inside me there was an apology ready to spill out.
“It’s hard to explain.” He started to interrupt but I spoke over him, “I like you, Joey. You make me feel normal, like you’re the only good thing left in the world worth being interested in. Worth being there for. And it’s always been that way. I treat you like shit, I make you read books I know you don’t care about. I know. That doesn’t mean I don’t need you, doesn’t mean I don’t know I can’t take you for granted anymore. You’re beautiful.”
His face was red now, ducked down so I couldn’t see anything but the shadow of him biting his fingernail. “What’s changed? We’re best friends, we were shit talking daytime television, reminiscing good times, and eating our way through my kitchen yesterday. Nothing’s different. No fuckin nuclear apocalypse next week to scare you into feeling something that’s not real. So why now?”
“I don’t know, that’s going to have to be good enough. Trust me.”
“It’s not! Not when I can’t understand what’s so different about me. I mean you had an anxiety attack because of someone five feet away from us about ten minutes ago. It just… I-I can’t make sense of it. And I’ve tried to for years. You're a part of me man, thinking of all the shit we've gone though together. But it's always been, why does Garrett hang out with me? Why does Garrett talk to me? Pathetic, yeah. Screw you. But you do that to me.”
“I’m not a freak when I’m around you.”
He licked his lips, and I watched as a small smile spread across his face: it lit up the color of his skin and the curve of his cheekbones and the shape of his eyes. Joey sat back down, and pressed his lips against mine. He tasted like familiarity and felt rough and secure.
“Fuck it. I’ll take this.”
The statement, the giving in, it sounded broken and torn coming from his mouth. I didn’t mind, and hopefully eventually he won’t either.
♠ ♠ ♠
i thought it was important to get joey's perspective of his friendship with garrett and everything he feels because it's complicated as fuck and definitely not perfect and neither is any of what they're about to go for and i wanted to get that across so mostly i focused on joey and what he had to say