Chapter 4 Is It Me Or Is It You?

I STARED at his bedroom door for an hour but it never opened. Ellis didn’t reemerge. I was left wondering if I’d imagined everything, but when I licked my lips, I tasted cinnamon toothpaste. Not mine!

Shit! Ellis kissed me. What did that mean? Was he gay? Why didn’t he tell me? Or was he messing with me? No, Ellis wouldn’t do that. Maybe he is gay? Should I knock on his door and ask what’s going on, or should I wait?

I chose to wait.

I DIDN’T see him until the next morning, and all I caught was his

shadow following him out the front door. He vanished much like he had when he moved in. It made me worry. What if that kiss was a mistake? Or maybe kissing me was a horrific experience and he regretted it. Shit, I hope not. I thought it was a terrific kiss!

I was in my room at my desk working on an essay on Archimedes’s principle when I heard the apartment door close. He’s home. I could have rushed out but that might have seemed desperate. If he needed space, I needed to give it to him. (That’s what I would want.) After another hour, when I was finished and hoping to get some sleep before classes in the morning, I heard a knock at my door.

“Come in,” I said.

The door creaked open, but Ellis didn’t enter. He stood at the threshold in his sweat pants and a ratty white T-shirt. He looked divided or confused. What did he want?

“You standing there all night, or are you testing my telepathic abilities?”

At least that changed his expression from bewildered to irritated. I’d take any reaction. “I wanted to know if you’d play Xbox with me?”

Ah, direct. Good. “Xbox?” I asked dubiously. “You know I suck, right?”

 

He lifted the corner of his mouth. “I don’t care.”

He didn’t look like he’d leave without a “yes” in response. “Fine,” I said, tossing back the covers. I followed him to the couch and sat down next to him. The couch. All I really wanted to do was pick up where we left off. We’d kissed, after all. I seriously wanted to do it some more!

We didn’t. We played Xbox until two in the morning. It was fun, actually. Ellis laughed at me because I’m mentally challenged when it comes to video games. (I loved his laugh.)

I didn’t have an Xbox or PSP or DS growing up. My dad is an arborist, and we spent a lot of time out-of-doors hiking, fishing, and exploring for native plants. By all accounts, I should have chosen botany or horticulture as a major, but when I started taking science classes I excelled at physics more than any other.

Ellis was patient, though, and I enjoyed being around him even if it was to play pointless video games. He made no move to repeat the other day, and he also didn’t bring it up. Maybe it was a mistake. The thought disappointed me.

A MORNING or two later, after nothing noteworthy had occurred, Ellis came out of the bathroom showered and fully clothed. He wore a tight blue muscle shirt, which challenged my self-restraint since his biceps were three times the size of mine. And by God did I want to touch those muscles! He waltzed into the kitchen as if nothing was amiss and smiled. “Good morning,” he said pleasantly.

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to react. My brain kept looping the question, “Is he going to say anything, do anything, lean in and kiss me again, maybe?” But I got nothing. He had to know how hot he was! Right? Did he expect me to act like nothing happened between us?

“Uh, hi.” I said it kind of bewildered-like.

“Listen, I called Rob to see if he wanted to do breakfast. He’s up for it. So I was thinking maybe you’d like to come along—hang out with me and my friends. I know you don’t normally eat breakfast, but I thought it could be fun.”

“Wait….” I paused, trying to let my brain catch up with what he proposed. “Is Robert the one who can belch the alphabet?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, that’s Mike. Rob is the big guy who’s always smiling. But his name isn’t ‘Robert’—it’s ‘Robin’, hence why everyone calls him the Boy Wonder.”

“Ah, makes sense now.”
“But he prefers Rob.”

I nodded, thinking over his invite. “I guess I could. It’s not like I haven’t met them before.” I shrugged indifferently, but inside I was a bundle of nerves. If Ellis was asking me to go to breakfast, and we’d kissed before, was this a date? Would he expect me to act a certain way? Or hold his hand? And what would his friends think? “Your friends aren’t going to drink beer this early in the morning, right?” I pulled off nonchalance to perfection by asking that one.

“No.” He smiled. His eye contact lingered. “So, I’m going to find my shoes, and we can head out when you’re dressed. Okay?”

I looked down, having forgotten what I was wearing. I guess pajama bottoms weren’t appropriate to wear out. Although I have to say, I have seen many a college gal walking around campus in bottoms that looked suspiciously like pajamas. I think there is a double standard going on here!

I grabbed a T-shirt out of my drawer and pulled on the jeans that lay at the foot of my bed. Ellis was waiting for me in the living room when I was done.

“Ready?” he asked with more excitement than I had seen in him before. He walked over to the door and opened it. “Shall we?” he asked, motioning for me to exit.

He’s holding the door for me. Oh God, this is a date. “Yeah,” I said, stepping out the door. “Where are we going? Do you need me to drive?” I asked, still playing along with the casualness of it all.

“There’s a little diner around the corner from Mike’s brother’s house. And no, Russ is driving.” Ellis seemed very relaxed, and I was anything but. He really invited me to hang out with his friends. I wasn’t sure if I should be excited or terrified.

“Which one is Russ?”
“The tall redhead.”
“Got it!” Details helped pull things together for me.

Outside, Ellis’s friends were waiting for us at curbside. I saw Rob’s beaming face and felt oddly comforted. Ellis said he’s always smiling, and even if I hadn’t spent much time with him, I could imagine it being a winning personality trait. “Did someone call for a taxi?” Rob asked, opening the rear door for us.

“And you’re right on time!” Ellis said, high-fiving him before crouching down and slipping into the backseat.

When it was my turn to get in, only then did I notice how much room it didn’t have, and that was mainly because there was already a passenger besides Ellis. It was a Ford Fiesta, not exactly made for three in the backseat.

I skeptically asked, “And where am I supposed to sit?”

Russell leaned his head back so I could see him from outside the car, and said, “Sorry, dude. I didn’t know you were coming. Mike was hungry and jumped in, and I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Sit here,” Ellis gestured, squeezing over against Mike as far as he could.

I slid my glasses down my nose and peered over the frames at him. “Although I appreciate the fact that you think I can fit into the four inches you provided by smashing Mike into the other door, I still don’t see it happening.”

“Then sit on my lap,” Ellis offered easily, stunning me into utter silence.

Luckily Mike broke me out of my flabbergasted shock by saying, “You turning queer on us, Monty?” Mike used what I suspected was a shortened version of Ellis’s last name, Montgomery. I could tell he jested, but Ellis didn’t look so happy about it.

“Either that or I sit on you, Foster!” Ellis lifted his butt in Mike’s direction.

 

“Stop, stop, you dickwad! Get your ass out of my face.” Mike shoved at him until he gave up and sat back on the seat.

“Torture any cats lately?” Ellis asked.
“Fuck you! Shaving a cat isn’t torture.”

Rob emphatically gestured. “Can we not talk about Mike’s sadistic fascination with furry animals right now? Drop it, or get out.”

I’d never heard Rob so stern but it worked—Mike shut up. When the adolescents were finally settled, Ellis looked at me again. “Getting in?”

I lifted an eyebrow and pushed my glasses back up my nose. I wasn’t sure what was going on between us, but if he was offering, I’d be damned if I was going to turn him down. I tried to go in headfirst, but that was futile. Feetfirst sort of worked, but I ended up with my legs all up in Mike’s space. It’s not like I’m that tall at five eleven, but factoring in Ellis, who was probably six foot plus, and Mike, who was taller still, going to breakfast became vaguely similar to a world-record video I’d seen of nineteen female students cramming into a Smart car! Biggest difference (discrepancy in number of people aside?) I was crammed against Ellis, and his hard body against my side felt very nice.

As Russell drove down the road, Rob started talking randomly about humpback whales, which morphed into humpbacked animals and then on to camels. (Apparently he’s deranged like that. I’m sure he was dropped as a child.) He rattled on for the entire ride. “Cole, you’re the science guy,” Rob addressed me from his spacious front seat. “What’s the difference between a one-hump and a two-hump camel?”
“Ah, I’m pretty sure that’s a math question.”

Ellis whispered to me. “Don’t.”

I glanced at him. He lifted his brows slightly, pleading with me to contain my sarcasm. Could I be swayed so easily? Oh God, yes! As I took a nanosecond to consider it, I felt him caress the small of my back. I shivered and closed my eyes at the sensation. He was doing this here? Did his friends know he was gay?

“No seriously,” Rob continued. I opened my eyes and tried to pay attention. “I didn’t know if there was a major difference other than one hump. And can you have a three-humped camel?”

I was about to make different remark, about needing a zoologist this time, when Russell added, “Are camels mammals or dromedaries?”

Rob punched Russell in the arm as he drove. “A dromedary is a mammal, moron. Now stop interrupting. I’m doing research.” “What kind of research?” Russell asked.

 

I whispered to Ellis as the banter continued in the front, “Are they always like this?”

 

Mike answered, “Pretty much.”

 

“Genetic research,” Rob replied. “I want to know if you can genetically alter camels to create more humps?”

 

“Ah, like on a wump.” Russell smiled as if finally satisfied with Rob’s line of questioning.

“Exactly! If Mr. Gump has a wump—which is basically a mutated camel—then somehow he figured out how to multiply the humps to get seven. But why seven?”

Russell snapped his fingers. “One for each friend. Maybe he only has seven friends?”

Rob continued his hypothesis. “But if you have a seven-hump wump, then it stands to reason you could possibly create wumps with all different number humps once you figured out the basic difference in the genetic code for one- or two-hump camels.”

Oddly, this argument sounded insanely familiar, but I didn’t know where I would have heard of a “wump.”

Russell chimed in, “Which is why Dr. Seuss had to be a mad scientist in order to genetically mutate the animals in his laboratory!”

Rob beamed, “Exactly!”

 

“I wonder if Mr. Gump is related to Forrest Gump?” Russell asked innocently.

 

Oh my God! I looked at Ellis. “Are they arguing over a Dr. Seuss book?”

He nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Shoot me now.”

Ellis chuckled, and as he did so he rested his very warm palm just to the back of my hip and squeezed. I could have died. I closed my eyes again and swallowed hard. I swear if he moved his hand any lower it would be on my ass, and at that point, I would be kissing him like crazy whether his friends were present or not!

Russell and Rob continued their discussion in the front seat, oblivious to Ellis’s stealthy affection. I relaxed my body into Ellis and prayed there would be road construction on every turn to delay us on the way to the restaurant.

I have no luck—the roads were clear.

In the restaurant, we were seated at a large round table sort of in the middle of the floor. I didn’t think Russell and Rob could contain their shenanigans long enough to eat, but I hoped that since we were in everyone’s view—not like being in a booth—that they’d show some decorum. I sat between Mike and Russell, with Rob and Ellis across from me. The waitress came and poured us all coffee and took our orders: Rob ordered pancakes; Russell, French toast; Mike and Ellis got the house special with an omelet; and I asked for the waffles and hash browns. In a short time, we got our food, and everything seemed like breakfast would be a pleasant and calm experience, unlike the car ride here.

Ellis kept looking at me and then looking away. I think he was trying to portray an air of casual observance as he checked out the décor and made eye contact with each of his friends as they ate or spoke, but I had a feeling I was the only thing on his mind. What gave it away was when he surreptitiously poked the tip of his tongue out for a split second when Rob bent down to retrieve his dropped fork. Ellis kept a straight face, yet I could see a gleam in his eyes every time they made contact with mine.

He was flirting with me, and I hoped to God I wasn’t blushing.

Then Russell tilted his head to the side, listening. “Do you hear that?” He asked, a forkful of syrupy French toast inches from his mouth and dripping onto the table. I had the urge to grab a napkin for him.

The waitress gave Rob a new fork and refilled our coffee, ignoring how we all sat—heads cocked to the side—straining to hear the music. I wasn’t sure what we were supposed to be listening for, but I angled my head toward the ceiling like the rest.

“What?” Rob asked, with a cheek full of pancakes threatening to explode. (Note: I hate when people talk with their mouths full.) “The music,” Russell insisted, spewing French toast bits out. (What a pig.)

It was an old Madonna tune from the ’80s. I wasn’t sure why it was significant, but something in Ellis’s glare made it clear that someone was going to get pounded later.

“They’re playing your song, El,” Russell answered, grinning like a proud papa.

I strained to hear the quiet elevator music coming from the speakers in the ceiling above our heads, but Rob’s protest was louder than the background music. “Russ, you dork, how many times do I have to tell you ‘Like a Virgin’ isn’t about virgins. It’s about feeling like one all over again. You can’t categorize this as Ellis’s theme song when it’s completely erroneous.” Rob jumped suddenly. “Ouch! Who kicked me?”

Ellis glared again. “Shut up, Rob.”

“What? Why? Are you worried about Mike? He knows. Remember he found out last year when that girl at the pool party got drunk and tried to kiss you.” Rob had a way of rambling on a whole other level than I ever did. He could have done it professionally. He stared at Ellis, who wasn’t talking, and then his eyes glinted with an unspoken understanding. “Oh… ohhh! You don’t mean Mike. You mean Cole!” Ellis still didn’t answer audibly, but if his eyes could shoot poison darts, Rob would have been a pincushion.

Rob looked across to me. “Hey, Cole, did you know Ellis is a virgin?” Why Rob felt the need to tell me must have been under the Jeopardy category heading “How to Embarrass Your Friends” for eight hundred, Alex.

“I am going to kill you,” Ellis snarled. Ellis might have sounded like a seething wolverine, but the placid look on Rob’s face told me he knew Ellis was all bark.

“No, you won’t. Besides, what are you going to do? You and I are the only two virgins on campus. Practically everyone knows anyway.”

“They do now,” Ellis grumbled.

Mike spoke up. “I heard yesterday James is one.” I found it interesting how he referred to “virgins” like a secret club or something.

Russell dropped his fork. “What? No way! I thought he was dating Tina.”

 

“Dating, but they’ve only kissed. James said she wants to wait until marriage.”

 

“Ha!” Rob threw a piece of biscuit at Ellis. “At least James and I can brag about kissing a girl. Young El is pristine green.” Mike laughed. “Loser!” He placed his hand to his forehead, fingers in the shape of an “L” against it.

 

Ellis groaned and laid his face on the table.

 

“But, Rob, that girl you kissed was ten, it doesn’t count,” Russell remarked, ignoring Ellis.

 

“Yes, it does! We were both ten.”

“Nooo,” Russell stressed with an air of sarcasm. “Kissing a girl means kissing with the intention of dating or other ‘extracurricular’ activities. When you’re ten, neither one of you knows what that means.”

Rob quickly retorted, “You don’t know what that means!”

I smirked, genuinely amused by their banter as well as Ellis’s embarrassment. But as I thought about it, this actually explained a lot! If Rob’s pronouncement was indeed correct—that Ellis had never kissed a girl, then I might very well have been the first person he’d kissed. Wow! I was Ellis’s first kiss. He might be completely mortified over it, but I was feeling rather special.

AFTER the car ride home, during which Ellis sat stiffly silent and did not caress my lower back or any other part of me, Russell dropped us back at the apartment and Ellis went, predictably, to his room. I understood the embarrassment factor, but he couldn’t slip into his room every time and lock the door. So far, his method of dealing with uncomfortable situations was to leave the apartment all day or lock himself in his room. I felt excluded. I get that girls are way better at talking about their emotions than guys, but—being a guy—I know we’re not emotionless abysses existing without need of compassion. Sometimes emotions simply got tangled up on delivery from the post office.

I knocked and waited and then knocked again.

After the third time, he opened the door. He looked drained. He didn’t speak; he merely stood there in the open doorway analyzing the ground. (Or my crotch, but I have the feeling that was only me being hopeful.)

“Is it true, what Rob said earlier? You never even kissed a girl before?” I tactfully inquired when it was clear he wasn’t going to communicate without prompting.

He nodded the slightest of nods.
“Does that mean…. Was I your first kiss?”

His gaze flicked up to mine and then back to the floor. Another slight nod.

I felt a flush of heat in my belly. It was true and I was thrilled. I stepped closer and boldly cupped the side of his neck, extending my fingers into his hair and touching his cheek with my thumb. Ellis looked up. “Good,” I said, using my eyes to assure him waiting until now was a positive thing. Then I leaned forward and kissed him gently.

One kiss. I made my point. I backed away to allow him his space. Being embarrassed by all your buddies was a shock to a man’s pride. I got that. We’d talk another time.