Requited Ch. 04

"Jesus," I say, I haven't thought about it like that. I've assumed everything will stay the same, "You know where you'll go though? Don't you? I mean, you know you'll live in New York. You know you'll be a great artist. You know that, right?"

"I guess," he smiles, non-committaly, "do you think my fancy degree will get me a good job tending bar, while I try to get by, painting faces?"

Your fancy face will get you whatever you want.

"You'll be fine, Andy, you'll see. People are already taking note of your work."

"What about you? Do you really think Ashleigh won't make you move to the west coast with her?"

Ash has actually mentioned this. She's mentioned it more than once. Her dad owns a big law firm and she's been hinting that she wants to work there. As soon as he says it, I'm surprised that I haven't given it more thought. Ash isn't exactly the type of person who hints about things for very long. She's the kind of person who makes things happen. I look at Andy's face and his sad eyes. I feel a mild sense of panic rising inside me.

"I won't move to the west coast." As the words leave my mouth, I feel my intention. I feel the weight and certainty of it. I feel myself mean it.

I won't move away from you.

"Do you swear?"

I smile when I see his eyes start to lighten. "I swear."

He checks the time and gets up quickly, "I better get going." His phone pings in his pocket. "Do you need anything? Do you need Advil or something for your sunburn?"

"Nah, I'm good, thanks."

His phone pings again, twisting my gut. He opens the door, letting himself out.

As he leaves, I call him back, "Hey Andy." He leans his head back in, looking at me. "You know he's wearing that fedora unironically. You know that don't you?"

He lets out a quick burst of a laugh. The type of laugh that comes out with such force, it makes him double over a little.

"Yeah," he smiles, shrugging and nodding at the same time, "I know."

When he leaves, I move to the window overlooking the garden. I mean to close the curtain, but instead, I stand there, looking out, until I see a flash of Andy walking across the lawn. I see the glint of his white shirt, lit by the warm-white garden lights. He has one hand in his pocket. He's walking leisurely. He's taking his time. I watch him, until I see him disappear into the pool house.

That's what Andy does. He just walks around, acting like rain. Soft rain. When really, he goes around settling fires in people's lives. He sets fires all over the show. I can't be mad at him about it either. I can't really be fully mad at him, ever. Because, he has absolutely no idea he's doing it. None at all. Not a clue.

I close the curtain and sit on the edge of my bed. I think about Oren's earnest eyes and his dead serious face. I think about that Goddamned idiotic hat and wonder whether he's still wearing it now. I bet he's not. I bet he's taken it off and has carefully placed it somewhere it won't get crushed. On the bar in the pool house, probably, or maybe, on one of the side tables. I wonder if he's on his knees or his back, right now. I hope that whatever position he's in, he has a very, very bad case of hat-hair. I hope he looks fucking ridiculous, and I hope Andy notices it.

I don't usually allow myself to think like this anymore, it isn't fair to Ash. Ash broke up with me though. She told me I could do what I want. Tonight, I can't help it. I'm not doing what I want, but I am thinking about what I want. I lie on the foot of my bed, where Andy lay a short while ago, and I think about him. I think about Andy with Oren. I imagine his hands on Oren. I imagine him running his fingers through Oren's salty, blonde hair. I imagine his big, beautiful hands unbuttoning Oren's shirt. It hurts me to think like this, but I can't help it. I imagine Oren on his knees, worshiping Andy's cock. I imagine how dead seriously he'd take it. I imagine how solemn and reverent he'd be. It hurts me to think like this. It hurts me so much. It hurts everywhere.

It makes me feel sick.

It makes me so sick I can't lie still when I think it. I try to, but I can't. My fists are balled up. I have them up near my face. Pressed up against my temples. I try to lie still, but I can't. My hips are squirming. Writhing. I press my hand down. I press it hard against my dick. I try to contain it. I try to make myself still. But I can't. I just can't. The more I press down with my hand, the harder my hips grind and buck up. It isn't enough. It isn't what I want. Eventually, I put two fingers into my mouth, and I make them wet. Very wet. I make them as wet as I can and then I reach down again. This time, I ease my fingers into myself. First one and then two. I do it slowly, but it still makes me groan. It's the first time I've done this to myself. Ash does it sometimes. She does it when she wants to reward me for something, or punish me, depending on your perspective.

It feels different tonight. My fingers are bigger and thicker than hers. I feel full and debased. I start stroking my dick and I try to think of Ash, but I can't. The second I start touching myself, I think of Andy. I think of him kneeling between my legs. I imagine his fingers inside me. I imagine his hand on my dick. I imagine him looking down at me and I imagine the stupidest, most ridiculous thing of all. Even more stupid than Oren's idiotic hat. Much more. I think of Andy's face. I think of his face and when I think of him like that, I think of him looking down at me, with nothing but love in his eyes.

I come with such force, the strength of it makes me feel shaky.

* * * * *

The next week-end is the last week-end of the summer vacation. It's the week-end before the Montgomery's pack up and head back into the city. Tyler and Sarah are back from the south of France and Greece, respectively. They've come out for a long week-end. They're in Montauk by the time I get there after work on Friday.

"West!" Shrieks Tyler, "You made it."

"How's work been?" Asks Sarah, giving me a big hug.

"Thank God you're here." Says Joss, dryly.

It's overcast and windy so instead of heading down to the beach, we chill in the pool house. Tyler mixes elaborate cocktails, and we sit there listening to music and chatting. It's a pretty great evening. After a while, Andy says, "I'll be back in a bit." And heads off in the direction of the house.

Joss and Sarah are hunched over and talking amongst themselves, so I'm left with Tyler. Over the years, I've got to know Tyler. He has a lot more good points than bad. He really does. He's a good friend to Andy. Despite the fact that he still obviously has a massive thing for him, he is a very good friend to him. When you really think about it, Tyler and I have quite a lot in common.

"Where did Andy go?" I ask. He's been gone for a while.

"He's gone to say good-bye to Oren. He's leaving tomorrow."

"Oh," I say, swallowing slightly, "Andy must be bleak."

Tyler looks at me curiously for a moment and then shrugs, "Nah, he'll see him again next year. They hook up every summer."

I feel a quick flash of displeasure. I don't know why exactly. I can't work out if it's because in all these years Andy's never even mentioned Oren to me, or if it's because he's clearly told Tyler all about him. I manage to contain it. I get a grip on myself. I laugh and I smile and after a while, I feel myself start to relax. Despite everything, it's a great night. It's been a great summer. One of the best.

I head to bed a little earlier than the others and once I've settled in, Andy comes in to say good night.

"Are you okay?" He says, "It's not like you to go to bed early."

"I guess work kicked my ass this week." Then I add, "Are you okay?"

"Sure, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, didn't you just have your big farewell with your fedora friend?"

He stifles a laugh. "Yeah, but it's not really like that. It's not serious, it's just a vacation thing."

"Does he know that?"

He looks at me in surprise, "Yes, obviously. I mean...yeah, obviously he does."

"Jesus, Andy, you're cold. You're cold and you never tell me anything."

He smiles and rolls his eyes, "I'm not cold."

"So, you're admitting you never tell me anything?"

He laughs and says, "God, West, you're such a dork."

I laugh too, I laugh a little harder than the situation calls for. I laugh in part because I've had a great evening and in part because Oren is leaving. Mainly, I laugh because Andy and I are alone in my room and that always makes me deliriously happy.

"Oh, man, I love you, Andy, you crack me up."

He shakes his head and leans his forehead against one hand and sighs very loudly. "What am I going to do with you, West?"

"Just wait," I say, "one of these days, you'll say it back. You'll see."

After he leaves, I think of the pact I made with myself in first year. The pact to kiss him if he ever says he loves me back. I feel hollow and removed when I think about it. I'm starting to wonder if he ever will say it back. I wonder if I'd really have the balls to do it. To kiss him. I haven't thought of it for a long time, but this summer has brought a lot of things about Andy right back to the surface.

I think about Ash, too. I wonder what she's doing right now. When I think of her, I miss her. I think of her when she's happy and soft and sweet. I think of how much fun I have when I'm with her. I think of how she looked, when she held baby Ruby last summer. So beautiful. I think about the life I could have with her. A crazy, beautiful life. I wonder what she's been up to all summer. I wonder who she's been up to it with.

The thought of her with other guys doesn't fill me with joy. It doesn't fill me with anything resembling joy. Not at all. Not even close. At the same time, it doesn't make me sick when I think of her with another guy. It makes me unhappy. It makes me feel insecure. It doesn't make me sick though. I wonder what the fuck my problem is with Andy. I wonder why thinking of him with someone else causes such a terrible reaction in me. I wonder if it's because I've never been with him, or if it's because he's a guy? Maybe it's because he's a guy and I've never been with a guy. I'm not sure why those things would make such a big difference, but maybe they do.

I worry about it a lot. I know what I'm feeling about Andy is jealousy, and I think that is a terrible thing. It's very problematic. I know that. I'm not a jealous guy. At least, I don't want to be jealous. I've never been like this about anyone else. It feels horrible and dark. I need to stop it. I need to make that my primary goal for the year. I need it to stop.

* * * * *

The weather is still grotty, so we stay indoors for most of the day. By early afternoon, we all have cabin fever, so we brave the wind and head out. Andy, Joss and Tyler take the bikes and so, Sarah and I walk along behind them as they ride.

"Sarah, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, shoot."

"Uh, what are your thoughts on jealousy?"

She looks at me quickly. "Are you worried about Ash?" She knows Ash and I are on a break.

"I guess." I say, it's not completely untrue. I am a little worried about Ash, but I want to try to understand what I'm feeling about Andy and who better to talk to than Sarah, she's doing her master's in psychology, after all.

"Well," she says, "jealousy is an emotion just like any other. A little's okay and a lot can be a bad thing."

"I, uh, I kind of think I'm feeling quite a lot of it." I say quietly. "More than I want to feel, anyway."

She looks up at my kindly, "West, the thing about jealousy is that it gets a really bad wrap. It can be a very negative, damaging emotion, but it's also a completely normal feeling. Everyone feels it sometimes. It all depends on what you do with the feeling."

"I don't know what to do with it, that's my problem."

"The best thing to do is to do what you're doing right now. Talk about it. Say how you're feeling."

"Doesn't it make me a huge asshole, or something?"

She chuckles at that, "Oh West, you could never be a huge asshole. I'd say at your absolute worst, you could only manage a medium level of asshole-ism."

"Gee, thanks."

"Hey," she says, "look, you're not trying to control Ash, or shame her, or make her feel bad, as a result of the way you're feeling, are you?"

"No," I say emphatically, "I'd never do anything to make h-her feel bad, or try to control her. I'd never do that. I want h-her to be happy. I want that more than anything else."

"If you want her to be happy, more than you want her for yourself, then I think you're okay."

I feel bad that I haven't had a fully honest conversation with Sarah. She was talking about Ash and I was talking about Andy. It's not my style. I consider a lie of omission, to be a lie. In every other aspect of my life, I'd rather do anything than lie.

The way I feel about Andy is and has always been, the single exception to that rule.

* * * * *

After dinner, I help Mrs Montgomery in the kitchen while the rest set up a board game.

"How's Andy?" She says, "How does he seem to you?"

At some point during every visit I've ever had at the Montgomery's, Mrs Montgomery has done this. She touches base, to try work out how Andy is. She's a formidable woman, daunting and unapproachable in some ways, but she loves her son. I feel a rush of affection for her when she does it. It makes her seem more human. She's his mother and all she wants is to know that her boy is okay. She wants to know that he's happy.

"Andy's okay," I say, "I think he's okay."

I look over at him. He's sitting back, watching Tyler and Joss argue about the rules of the game they are setting up. He has a curious, dreamy look on his face. He looks up at me for a second. For a second, he just looks, then he gives me a hint of a smile. His eyes seem to speak to me. They seem to speak in full sentences. The trouble is, they speak a language I don't understand. I think the same thing I've been thinking for years.

What are you thinking, Andy?