12.
Chloe
I recognized Riley right away, standing out front of the restaurant in another polo shirt—dark gray this time—and beige Bermuda shorts. He had his hands in his pockets and he looked nervous, which, for some reason, put me at ease a bit. I knew he was about a year or two older than I was, but he looked so young, with his clean-shaven face and naïve expression. I realized as I walked up, before we’d even exchanged one word, that I was comparing him to Graham.
Stop it, I told myself. I arranged my face into a smile. “Riley?” I said.
He snapped to attention, as though I’d startled him. “Chloe? Um, hi.” He held his hand out. “Yeah, it’s me, Riley.” His palm was clammy, but he smiled, showing off those perfect, white teeth, most likely the result of expensive orthodontia. No one’s teeth were naturally that straight and uniform.
We went inside, only to follow the hostess back out to the outside seating area.
“Have you ... have you been here before?” he asked, and immediately started blushing as though he’d just blurted out something terribly embarrassing. It was an odd turning of the tables; usually it was me who was blushing and feeling foolish. I felt a strange, almost maternal feeling come over me. I wanted to make him feel comfortable, not because I was trying to impress him or wanted him to like me, but because he appeared to be so painfully out of his element. I’d only been on a few dates—which had all either ended disastrously or unremarkably—but I’d always been the one feeling nervous or shy.
“I haven’t, but my mother talks about it so much that I feel like I may as well have!”
He laughed. “Yeah, same here. My mother treats shopping and going out to restaurants like it’s her job. And matchmaking. She’s been trying to set me up on dates since I was about twelve years old.” He leaned toward me, looking around first as though he were afraid that someone nearby might be eavesdropping. “I’m sure it’s pretty obvious and everything, but I’m gay.”
“Oh,” I said, genuinely a bit surprised. Well, that explained why I was feeling so at ease! I knew plenty of gay guys from art school, though they were all a good deal more flamboyant about their sexuality than Riley was.
He waved me off. “You don’t have to pretend to be surprised. I’ve only been trying to tell my mother for about ... oh, the past eight years or so ... that I’m gay, but she refuses to believe it. She just thinks I haven’t met the right girl, despite her claiming not to be homophobic in the least.”
I had to fight back my own laughter. “My own mother actually thought it might be possible for me to fall in love with you and follow you back out to California. Because she and my father think that I’m wasting my time in art school and that I should, how did they put it? Explore my options.”
“Yes!” Riley clapped his hands together. “Exactly! Except my mother keeps referring to the option exploring in terms of how many dates she can set me up on. It’s so tedious. So, you’re in art school? Tell me everything about it! My parents forced me to go to Stanford, my dad’s alma mater. But I’d always wanted to go to art school! I admire you for going against what your parents wanted. It’s not always the easiest thing, is it?”
“No, it’s not.” It was nice to talk to someone who had a similar family situation.
“What?” he said. He was looking past me, over my shoulder. “Sorry, I just saw a hella-hot guy go by on a bike.”
“Oh yeah?” I turned, but didn’t see anyone.
Riley shook his head. “You just missed him.”
“Figures; I always miss the hot ones.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe. Someone with your looks—I bet the guys are just lining up to meet you. If only I had such problems.”
“Yeah right. That’s a nice thought. When it comes to guys, I have had pathetically little experience.” I thought about Graham and the mixed messages I was getting from him. “In fact, it seems that I actually sort of repel guys.”
“Oh my god, you are so full of it. Stop fishing for compliments!” Riley shook his head, giving me a quizzical look.
I laughed. “I’m not, I swear! I actually was hanging out with this guy that I might kind of like—even though we don’t really know each other—and at first I thought he might feel the same way, but then ... I don’t know. There was this perfect moment for him to kiss me and he didn’t.”
“Maybe you intimidate him.”
“No way,” I said. “If you saw him, you’d understand. It was like, everything was going great until the very end, and then it suddenly felt like he couldn’t be away from me fast enough. And then the next day we ended up going to the beach with a friend of mine, and we all had a great time, but it was more like we were just this group of friends. I guess I’m just not good at this dating thing. I mean, it’s not even dating, it’s ... I don’t know what it is.”
“It’s all one big
mind-fuck,” Riley said. “Every single bit of it. Like our parents trying to set
us up like this. But I am so glad to have met you! The last girl my mother made
me go on a date with took it all personally when I told her I was gay, like it
was some sort of reflection of herself! I’m so glad you’re not like that. And
where the hell is our waiter? We’ve been here forever! We should just go get
ice cream somewhere. Want to do that?”
“That sounds great,” I said. “My mom will be so thrilled to hear how much fun
we had going out together!”