The Fate Chronicles (Pt. 2)

We weren’t exactly the Breakfast Club.

I was no Princess, Ryan was no Jock…if anything, there was a little Basketcase in all of us.

Flashback to Thanksgiving, 199(5). I could be very wrong about that year…could be 1996. It was the year that the Kansas City Chiefs and the Dallas Cowboys played the Thanksgiving game, so if anyone can refresh my memory, I would appreciate it.

Ryan and I had been flirting, nothing serious. We still hadn’t slept together and I wanted to soooo bad. We had made a bet on that Football game. It was one I would never forget. (Well, maybe the year…I’ve never been one for dates and years). The Packers were our favorite team, for both of us. A little common bond we shared…He was the one that bought me my Hornung jersey that following Christmas, the one I cherish to this day. I bought him his ‘lucky’ GB silk boxers. It was a fair bet since our boys weren’t playing that game, I chose the Chiefs, Ryan favored the Cowboys. Deep down, I knew I had the lame duck.

The wager? Oral Sex.

It was as good a thing to bet on as anything I suppose. We all got together at Pat’s that day to watch the game. Casey made some ribs for us to chow on, Ryan and I watched in silent anticipation, sipping our beers. Pat called me out to the hall at half time to inquire why we were being so quiet. I told him and Pat just shook his head and said, ‘You two should just bone and get it over with.’ I guess I tended to agree.

I turned to walk back in the apartment that day and as I went to turn the doorknob, Pat whispered in my ear…’that boy is gonna break your heart. Be careful.’ I walked in the apartment into the thick haze of pot and cigarette smoke. Tony had shown up while I was in the hall with Pat, and he was wearing the stupid little grin he always wore. I would give a million dollars to this day, to wipe that fuckin’ thing off his face.

I grabbed two more beers from the fridge and slipped down next to Ryan and slid my hand up the back of his neck, flipping off his ‘Thug Life’ visor. We watched the rest of the game, the Cowboys emerging victorious. He slipped me a lil’ grin and we left the house quietly, Pat still shaking his head in the background.

We had decided to go to Perkins, and have some coffee before I had to be home for dinner. I was going to drop him off, then come back to his place after dinner. So he could collect on his bet. We didn’t talk about anything of importance over coffee. I had slipped out of my shoes and ran a stocking foot in between his thighs and over his crotch. It was like that with us. All flirt, no comment. I don’t think we once every talked about feelings.

The thirty minute ride to his house was awkward. I pulled up the steep driveway on his 30 some acres of land, dropped him off, and told him I’d be back later. He lived in the basement of his parents house, he had a separate sliding glass door leading into it. His parents didn’t know I existed.

I ate quickly at my parents, still a little red around the eyes…I slipped into the shower and did my little ‘sex prep’…(Someday I’ll tell you about it). I drove quickly and deliberately to his house that night. I don’t recall what I was wearing. When I arrived to his house I started to walk toward those doors…I could see him, peering out…his face to the glass, his hands around his eyes. He was wearing a navy blue silk shirt and jeans, he had taken a shower. A silver cross lay around his neck. I noticed all of this before I had ever reached the door.

He slid the door open and smiled at me. In that moment I knew (I thought I knew) that I never would love anyone else like that again.

He whispered quietly….’Come in’…

To be continued…