Read Online Every Time I Think of You by Jim Provenzano - Free Book Online Page B

him.
    “She’s really the best. But I don’t–” he halted. “The way you’re so relaxed with your parents; I never had that. There’s a distance, and I just feel more comfortable at school. It’s not like the uniforms and ties make us little zombies. There’s only about a hundred-fifty guys. Everybody knows each other. We get along, but, you know, there’s a kind of hierarchy; the jocks, the science brains, the equestrian boys. We call them the cowboys, even though they ride English.”
    “How is that different?”
    He explained the more austere style in comical terms with a British accent and gestures.
    “Anyway, from what I can get, the teaching is different, more close. We’re asked to understand, not just memorize. Being smart is considered cool, and actually competitive, and it makes me want to study. It’s good.”

    “You know, I don’t think I ever would have met you if you’d gone to my school.”

    “What do you mean?” Everett asked, a bit surprised.

    “It’s… I’m thinking the guys you’d hang out with wouldn’t be my friends.”

    “Well, you don’t have a lacrosse team, and I can’t run worth shit.”

    I smiled, surrendering any further explanation.

    “But we did meet,” he insisted.

    “Collided, more like it.”

    “And? Aren’t you happy?”

    I blushed again, tried to focus on my driving despite the flood of emotion. “Yes,” I muttered.

    “Well, say it, my man. Say it!”

    “I’m so fuckin’ happy I met you!”

    “Now, that’s my Starsky.”

    I smiled, then turned back to the road ahead. “Actually, I think I’m more of a Hutch.”

     
    We drove a while, sang along to some rock songs on the radio as Everett drummed on the dashboard. I asked him if he was hungry. He suggested we just get home, warning that his mother was already ‘not amused’ by his little trip. “She demands her quality time, which includes giving me a nice big send-off dinner, where we actually sit down and eat together with Helen. It’s kind of a tradition.”
    I nodded; more miles, road signs, clouds.
    Asked when he might return to Greensburg, he contemplated that and what it really meant. “I don’t usually come home for weekends or anything, just, you know, no car.”
    “Oh, right.”
    “What? Don’t mope. Maybe you can be nice to your parents and ask to borrow this fine chariot again.” He patted the dashboard, rubbing it like a pet.

    “Yes, I could, although I never have for anything or anyone before you came along.”

    “First time’s a charm.”

    “Or third.” That time, I had to explain my meaning. “We’ve had sex three times.”

    He hadn’t kept count, I thought. Perhaps this was all just a blur to him. Perhaps I was just a new wingman for his life where such adventures were normal.
    “Actually, three and a half, if you count the museum,” he quipped. “Anyway, we can write to each other. We can talk on the phone, whisper sweet nothings,” he tickled me in the side, or tried to from outside my coat.
    Would that be it? Pen pals and road trips? It was better than nothing, the space between us at least a point between one soul and another. Everett had cracked me open with those few days of joy and affection. What would I do with such feelings in his absence?

    “Do you think they know?” I asked.

    “Who?”

    “My parents, your mom, and–”

    “Well, my sister definitely knows, obviously. She’s probably already dumped the sheets in a bucket of bleach. Bad joke. Anyway, probably, but they’re totally in denial. But who cares? They’re not gonna stop us.”
    “Mmm. For the time– Pro tempore .”

    “Excellent!”

    We drove in silence for a while, each of us considering our future paths.

    “So, I’d invite you to my house tonight, but it’s really dreary; just a bunch of old Republicans getting quietly soused.”

    “Right.”

    “You have any plans?” he asked.

    “Sitting at home, thinking of you.”

    “Oh, that’s