“Is that the one with the homophobic parrot?” he asked me.
“Yeah,” I sighed. “You don’t need to go. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“Are you kidding me? You bet your ass I’ll be there.”
“Language,” my father scolded him lightly.
Mom clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Maybe I should get your phone number so we could—”
“Mom. Stop it.”
“Oh, you’re right, dear. I’m sorry. You’re on a date now. I can get it tomorrow, Vince. After all, I’m sure I’ll want to talk to my future son-in-law on the phone at some point.”
“Mom!”
“Time to go, Matty,” Dad told her gently.
She leaned in to kiss me as my father shook Vince’s hand. Then they reversed and my dad shook my hand as she kissed Vince on the cheek. He looked surprised, just for a moment, bringing his hand to touch where her lips had been. I wondered at it but didn’t ask.
“I’m sorry,” I said, unable to think of anything else to say.
He arched an eyebrow. “About what?”
“Them. My parents. I told you they were weird.”
“I thought they were okay,” he said. And it looked like he meant it.
“Oh.”
“You want to get out of here?” he asked suddenly, looking thoughtful,
“Uh, sure.” I wasn’t hungry anymore.
“Good. I want to take you somewhere.”
“Don’t you want to wait and say good-bye to Santiago first?” I teased him.
He shook his head and stood, holding out his hand.
Surprising even myself, I didn’t hesitate.
WE WENT to the park and sat on a set of swings in the dark. He was like a kid, trying to go as high as he possibly could and laughing when I told him he needed to be careful because I wasn’t going to take care of him if he fell off the swings and became paralyzed. I already had one handicapped animal to look after.
“Would you get me my own set of wheels?” he asked.
“With streamers hanging off,” I threatened.
He laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the center of the park to a little stretch of grass away from the lights and the traffic. And away from where anyone could hear us scream. “You know,” I told him, “this is probably a perfect spot to get raped and then murdered by a homeless person with a hook for a hand. I don’t know if that’s the best first-date memory to have. I like my blood on the inside of me.”
“I’ll protect you from the murdering homeless rapist with hook hands,” he promised. “I have really big muscles.” He lowered himself to the grass and lay on his back, staring up at me. He patted the area beside him. I looked around, sure there’d be some hobo wanking it behind a cactus, but it looked like we were alone.
I tried to lie on the ground next to him, but he wouldn’t have it, so I found myself with my head on his stomach, our bodies making a T shape. It took a bit of getting used to at first, but then I allowed myself to focus on every breath he took in and every breath he let out. I rose and fell with him. It felt surreal.
I was quiet for a time until he started twisting his fingers in my hair lazily, and I made an embarrassing little moan in the back of my throat that caused him to chuckle, a sound I felt before I heard. It rumbled against my ear and I felt it down to my toes.
“What?” I asked.
“I like the noises you make,” he said, a smile in his voice.