Very Best Friends

The year was 1975 newly turned eighteen, a Senior at the height of the 'Free Love' era, and we were very best friends--at least that's how Tony seemed to see it. Much as I wanted to, I couldn't believe a guy like him would consider me his very best friend. It didn't add up--and I didn't really trust him. But there I was, waiting for him beside my locker--waiting for him to finish wrestling practise.

I mean that alone--that he was a half year older, captain of the wrestling team, while I only did gymnastics, put Tony in a whole other league. Never mind that Tony was also on the baseball team--was always surrounded by its giggling cheerleaders--that every cool jock in Rutland High considered him their own best friend. Let's also throw in the additional fact that Tony was a 'townie', while I was bussed-in everyday from our farm. Farm boys were 'hicks', '4-H'ers'--in other words, 'dirt' to those who lived in town. I mean, I could see the silent envy, bordering on contempt, whenever Tony left his admirers behind in order to meet up with me.

Just the fact that Rutland High even offered Gymnastics was an oddity. Only two other schools in our region did. No one paid us much attention, making the gymnastics team feel that what we did wasn't was all made up of us 'farm boy hicks'.

No one except Tony came to our events. The empty gym echoed from his hollered cheers when I would dismount from the rings or bars. It was embarrassing as hell and made me instantly flush with chagrined pride. Were it anyone else, I would just want to die, but Tony Rodrigez was considered 'King of the Jocks'. His enthusiastic cheers over my performances were viewed by my team as 'the' supreme compliment and served to subconsciously make me do my routines to please him alone.

In my own mind, though, I felt lucky. I felt lucky that Tony was my 'buddy'. So on that day, I leaned against my locker in the empty hallway and again thought, "Yeah, I'm just a buddy. It's a good word. Buddies are 'just friends'." Buddies aren't best friends, and certainly not very best friends, I counselled and cautioned myself. I did so because I still couldn't believe that Tony had called me his very best friend--but he did--and not just once.

I shook my head over the whole idea.

Even the first time he'd said it to me, I tried to correct him. We were at the swimming hole on my family's farm. Tony was wearing his red Speedos while I just had on gym shorts. We were sitting on the raft, watching the sunfish nibble our toes.

"You ever have a best friend?", he'd asked out of the blue.

I had to think it over. "Tommy Walker, I guess--before his parents sold the farm. They moved to Montpelier. I never hear from him anymore."

Tony kicked the water around a while. Then he looked at me so long, I finally had to turn and look back at him. His eyes are like a deer's'. They're very dark brown and have long lashes. They're the biggest eyes I've ever seen. I can hardly look into them without feeling like they're looking right through me. It's weird.

"You are my best friend," he said quietly. "You are the very best friend I have."

I suddenly looked at his full lips and snow-white teeth, as if unsure he was speaking to me--which of course was stupid because there was no one else there. "Oh, come on," I blushed.

"No," he said, once again catching my eyes. "You are, Jon. Can't you believe it when I say it?"

I truly blushed then. I could feel the blood going right up my neck. I don't know why I blushed, except Tony is the most handsome guy in our whole school. Everyone thinks so, especially the cheerleaders.

"You're the most popular..." I began to protest.

"No, I'm not," he interrupted forcefully.

"Anyway, I don't care about that--or them either, really."

He seemed to want to touch me or something. He seemed intense and agitated, as though trying to grapple with unknown forces.

Tony is the most physical guy I know, and his eyes went very dark and liquid.

"Don't you want a best friend?"

I felt my whole face bloom scarlet at his question. "S-sure", I stammered, hating myself for sounding so eager.

He put his hand right on my knee--his dark brown hand on my bare knee.

"Then say that you're mine," he insisted, smiling, squeezing into my leg.

"Okay," was all I could say back.

"Good. Now let's race to the dock."

So we did. And I won.

That was the first of several more times. Tony's face always brightened when he saw me in the hall between classes. He'd leave girls in mid-sentence to playfully push me against the wall, pinning me there.

"How's my very best friend?" he'd grinned down at me a few days ago.

Now, I'm five-foot-four, and Tony is about five-eleven, with the widest shoulders of anyone.

"How's mine?" I'd managed to mumble back, having to look up into those eyes and grinning face.

He then messed up my blond hair. "We're going to my cottage, aren't we? --I can't wait!"

"You invited anyone else?" I'd asked, looking at his adoring harem and jock clique impatiently waiting for his attentions. The girls were glaring at me.

"Hell, no," he whispered, letting me go. "I don't want to ruin it, now do I?"

And suddenly his magical presence was back being courted by his muscle-jock friends and shamelessly-fawning cheerleaders--and I was left wondering if it had even happened. I was left wondering how he could be so physical, almost affectionate with me in front of those guys. It was hugely embarrassing, yet because he was Tony Rodrigez, anything he did was instantly called 'cool'. But the lingering looks of others in the hallway let me know pretty quickly that they thought I was a brown-nosing little nerd, and a hick.

"No," I again thought, as I leaned against my locker and searched the now-vacant hall, "I'm a buddy. He may say it'll just be the two of us, but it won't be. He's too popular. They'll all show up somehow and he'll act like he's surprised."

That was last week, and today was Friday, D Day for our weekend trip to his parents' cottage.

I looked down at my gym bag, full of everything from fresh underwear to fishing lures, and wondered if I'd also packed the brand-new Speedos I'd decided I'd splurge on. Believing it really wouldn't end up being just Tony and I, I didn't want to look uncool in front of his supremely cool friends. But I couldn't believe how much those stupid little things cost--eating up most of my saved cash--all to impress people I didn't even like.

And right on cue, I heard faraway laughter and knew that Tony and his gaggle was approaching. I steeled myself emotionally, preparing to be barely tolerated, wondering how many of them would be coming along with us.

The group turned the far corner, Tony in the middle. He is always unmistakable because Tony is dark-skinned. His father is from Cuba, and his mother, African American. Tony's skin is the color and texture of mocha, or light milk chocolate. It makes his smile super-white, and his eyes all the more expressive. He's as handsome as a guy gets, with a body to match. And all the girls love his dark looks--exotic, I've heard them call him.

I'm sure if he were skinny and ugly, I swear that bunch would be whispering, 'nigger'. He's the only person in school who's not of the 'white bread, vanilla', variety.

Speaking of vanilla, my parents are Scandinavian. When I was a boy my hair was so curly-blond, it was almost white. At least, though, I tan really well, or I'd feel like a ghost next to Tony.

"Hey, Jensen," Matthew Brooks said half-heartedly as he approached.

"Hey Matt," I answered, trying to smile.

"Jon!", Tony shouted. He chest-bumped and then pushed me and then messed-up my curly hair. Tony's hair is super-curly--kinky, he calls it--and as black as ebony.

His gathering of wrestling jocks watched all this suddenly bored to death. They were obviously waiting for him to finish with me so they could all keep on walking.

"Catch you later," Tony said to their surprised faces. "Great workout--you nearly pinned me, Brooks!"

Uh, okay," David Williams said, looking at me, then at Tony. "We're going to Brenda's party later--the folks are away." He winked at Tony.

Matt Brooks threw Tony a punch.

"Don't get hammered again, Williams," Tony laughed. He smiled at them winningly, until they reluctantly mumbled things and went off by themselves.

"You could still go, you know," I said, genuinely amazed to see them walk off minus their 'hero'.

"What? --to Brenda's?"

I nodded.

"I thought we had a date," he said, face falling, clearly disappointed.

My neck began to burn, blood rushing into my cheeks. I couldn't believe I'd heard the word 'date' come out of Tony's lips. "Well, we do," I fumbled, mumbling my words.

"My stuff's in the Jeep," Tony grinned. He looked at my bag. "Jesus--what'd you bring? --it's only for a weekend!"

He grabbed my gym bag, pretending it weighed a ton, going on about what a cool time we were going to have.

And then we were in his Jeep, me pausing when I saw a whole case of Miller in the back.

"It's from my Dad," Tony laughed, his teeth so very white, his full lips spread. "He said we won't catch fish without some beer."

He drove us out of the parking lot. "My Dad's cool. He knows I can't handle more than three without falling over." We immediately headed out of town. "And he trusts me, which is the coolest part of all!"

We chatted about my own limited experience with drinking, then switched to sports. All the while I felt in a dream of sorts, as I watched the farms give way to forest. There was Tony, laughing at my stories about trying out golf, his animated face looking over at me every chance he could. He seemed to always want to look right into my eyes.

I felt proud to have his attention. I even fleetingly began to feel like Tony's very best friend. He listened to every single word I said---kept asking me my opinions on baseball and other sports. It became a little too much of a good thing. I began to wonder if there wasn't going to be a 'catch' in all this, wonder when the other shoe would fall or something.

I glanced back at the case of beer. "I guess you invited some friends to join us?", I nodded at it.

"What? --this weekend?" he looked genuinely surprised by the question. "I already told you it's just gonna be 'us'."

I could detect hurt in his smile. "I know. Sorry."

He grinned afresh, his dark face and white teeth gleaming at me. The sun was shining through spaces in the trees as we came into the mountains. "I told you my Dad trusts me," he explained. "You think I'd risk all that by inviting those horny bastards to the lake?"

I shrugged a little, not knowing how to react.

"They just want to get laid--every last one of 'em," he laughed, shaking his head. Tony's ears are very small and cute and lie right against his head. And his nappy hair is cut very short. "You watch--on Monday they'll be full of fibs, bragging about Brenda's stupid party."

I wondered to myself whether Tony had ever laid a cheerleader.

"My Dad knows your Dad. They're in Rotary. He thought it was fine when I asked if we could use the cottage." He looked at me, eyes all happy, as though proud I was his special pal. "And it's a great place! We put in a hot tub last summer."

I couldn't help but glance at Tony's shoulder and biceps while he drove. Tony is amazingly built. Even I, with my gymnasts' body, aren't a match for his incredible physique. His shoulder is the size of a shotput. His biceps nearly ripped his T shirt open as he steered the Jeep.

I looked up to see Tony watching me admiring his build. I fought against blood rising up my neck again. He smiled even more at me, as if it were a compliment, as if proud I even noticed his body. I smiled back but didn't know what to say. What do you say, when you've just been caught checking out your best friend's muscles? Shit.

"I think you're cool," Tony then said, looking at the steep, winding road. "I guess you already know that, huh?"

"What?" I asked, not believing it.

"You are," he nodded. "I have a very cool, very best friend."

I shook my head, smiling like an idiot. "Come on, Tony. Shit."

"Seriously."

"No one thinks that" I argued. "They think I'm a..."

"They're jerks," Tony's face grew angry-looking. I'd never seen him frown, much less look angry.

"They couldn't get even up on that high bar, and especially those rings, much less pull off your routines. It's fucking amazing, is what it is."

"God," I said. "Thanks." I felt an unfamiliar surge of pride make my heart pound like a hammer.

"For your height, you have the most perfect body I've ever seen," Tony added, looking me over.

"Shit," I said, glancing his way. "It's nothing like yours." I meant every word, though I was sure Tony had heard it a million times before.

He seemed almost ready to blush himself! He swallowed and gripped the wheel, his face beaming as he looked at the highway. "You really think so?," he asked thickly, his voice unsure and quiet.

I felt disbelief rise up my throat. I looked at his profile, trying to detect false humility, or disingenuousness or something. Instead, he swallowed again, his Adams' Apple bobbing, his eyes plastered on the road. He was waiting for my response, I could tell. His smile was evaporating into crestfallen disappointment the longer I stayed silent.

"It's---well, it's... "

"What?" he interrupted, his huge eyes looking uncharacteristically searching. "Too much bulk? --I can do something about that--eat leaner and stuff..."

I laughed. I shouldn't have, but couldn't help it. The most handsome, built, popular jock at Rutland High was apologizing to me over his body!

"Oh, shit," Tony said, blinking his eyes at the road. "You think..."

"... I think NOTHING," I slapped my knee, flashing my green eyes at him. "You're like a GOD to me, or something. God damn!" I felt my face grow instantly red. I didn't know what I was saying anymore. I just felt upset. "You're like a fucking ADONIS!"

There was this hideous silence, filled-in by the climbing, whining Jeep's engine.

"Why do you think you're so... so godamned popular?", I asked, my voice cracking, my heart pounding. "Don't tell me you don't even KNOW! You have to. I'm sorry, but you DO. You have to."

Again, a horrible silence filled the car, Tony staring out at the winding road while I brooded in the passenger seat.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," I said again. "I get this way sometimes. I don't know what I'm saying."

Tony's smile was sad, but still there. "I told you already that they don't matter to me," he said, his long-lashed eyes blinking at me. "As long as I win all my matches and hit homeruns, they treat me like a Superhero," he said. "But, Jon, in case you haven't noticed... I'm the only colored kid in the school. I'm black," he gestured to his face. "My Momma's black. She's truly black. Way, way, black."

He swallowed, his smile very sad now. "And you're the only one who doesn't give a shit if I win or lose, or I'm fuckin' 'green', for Christ's sake." His eyes swallowed mine right inside. "And you know why?"

I could only shake my head, feeling dumb and stupid for my silent reaction.

"Because you're my very best friend," Tony announced, as if reminding himself of what he's decided I was to him. "And because you already know what an outsider feels like. You already know what if feels like to be different from everyone else. They treat you like you don't even exist."

"Thanks," I half-whispered, my voice hoarse. And finally, right then, and completely, I actually believed Tony Rodrigez. "And you're right, you know--I am. I am your very best friend." I felt my eyes sting. "And you're mine, too," I quickly added, my voice thickening up with emotion, meaning every word.

**********************************************

It wasn't really a cottage so much as a rambling house with a huge deck and hot tub, with lots of wooden steps leading down the steep backyard to the secluded lake. It was early October, and we had to be the only ones around. All the other cottages had their docks pulled-up onto the bank.

And there were no boats or canoes anywhere on the glassy, chilled surface. "We keep ours open all winter," Tony said as we stood on the dock, his huge shoulder brushing against mine. We looked over the silent lake, listening to the call of blue jays. "My Dad loves ice fishing. I think it's like watching paint dry--but he loves it, so I go, too."

"You love your Dad a lot," I said, looking at his smile.

"He's my hero. He's the most affectionate, supportive guy there is", he smiled at me proudly. "I love my Momma too--a lot, don't get me wrong... but my Dad's a real man." He looked at me sincerely. "I admire guys like him--guys with guts--guys who can show their feelings without feeling they're sissies."

He looked at me like I was myself a guy like his Dad. I could only nod back, wondering how I could even come close to being a man in Tony's eyes.

My own father was strong, silent, and distant. I knew he loved me but wasn't always sure of it.

"Hey," he said suddenly, taking off one of his sneakers. "Let's take a swim before it gets completely dark," Tony grinned at me. "It's gonna be pretty chilly, but then there's always the hot tub!"

"Jeez," I looked into the uninviting depths, watching the fall leaves floating on top of the silent water. "You sure you want to?" It looked absolutely freezing cold, especially with no sun, and no one else enjoying it. Some crows flew over, cawing at us like we were intruding.

"I switched on the hot tub already," he said, pulling up his T shirt.

"But," I looked down at myself, then at him.

"There's no one here!", he announced happily. "Besides, it's getting dark," he gestured at the sky. "Leave your jockey's on if you want," he tugged his tight shirt over his gym-built pecs. "But there's seriously no one around but us... trust me."

I could handle Tony in Speedos---I'd managed before. But Tony completely naked wasn't something I'd ever seen, or was ready to see. I suddenly wished his friends would all show up.

Truth be told, I have a really big cock, which seems to have a mind all its own. It's why I always wait after our meets to shower alone. There is something about my being naked around other naked guys that makes my oversized dork embarrass me.

Suddenly, I was staring at the naked cheeks of Tony's muscular, chocolate-toned ass!

I shivered in the chilly evening light--hating the idea of even attempting to jump into that frosty, midnight-dark lake--yet hating even more throwing an embarrassing, telltale hardon in front of Tony.

I wavered briefly, my eyes glimpsing the triangular dark vee of Tony's pubic bush--seeing for the first time how he sported a cock to end all cocks--and suddenly just jumped in.

A roaring, icy thunder hit my brain, my heart nearly exploding from the shock! Surfacing like mad, a second thunderous roar filled my senses. I gasped and struggled, clawing for the surface, my legs treading like crazy.

"Oh, Jesus," I shivered as I shouted. "Jesus Christ!"

Tony whooped and splashed, the noise echoing rudely in the silent autumnal air. He kicked a ton of water at me, so I grabbed for his foot, and sent him under. Then I was suddenly left staring at nothing, wondering where the hell he went.

I felt apprehensive, knowing he was down there below me. I also felt totally vulnerable because we were bareassed naked. I know that's not such a big deal, I guess--or shouldn't be--but it was an unfamiliar lake, and the water was freezing, and even with a suit on, I would have felt naked. But actually, truly BEING bareassed naked in that dark, cold, deserted lake--well, it made me feel ultra-naked or something. I just felt really jumpy and skittish.

A swirl of current hit way down around my ankles. There were little eddies rising on the surface, and little bubbles. I knew Tony was down there scheming, when suddenly I felt his big arms clamp around my legs. The next thing I knew, we were wrestling underwater--his naked cock pressed right against my bare ass! It felt warm and arousing, even as we struggled.