Robert Glazer
Eliot mumbles the most surprising sentence I’ve ever heard, and before I can really process what he’s said, he leans into me and comes inside my mouth. I swallow down every bit of him, something I’ve only done a few times before – but he tastes so delicious, I love every second of it.
When he stills, he pulls away and backs up a few feet.
That’s when it really hits me. Eliot just told me he loves me.
He just lays there as I await a reaction, an acknowledgement, anything.
“Eliot,” I finally breathe. “Was that…did you…did you really…mean that?”
But he won’t make eye contact. Why would he be embarrassed of saying that?
“I can’t…I won’t…”
“I love you, too,” I say before I can stop myself. “I think I’ve accidentally fallen in love with you. I know this makes no sense, and I know it’s crazy, but…you make the world stop. You took me from LCD to IMAX, and I don’t know how to come back from this. I love you. I do.”
For one magical moment, our eyes meet. Our lips pull together into the best kiss I have experienced, and then he moans.
Then a feeling hits me. If we’re moving forward like this, there’s something he needs to know. Suddenly I can’t keep it in anymore. I can’t lie to him.
“God,” I begin, “there’s something else I want to tell you, need to tell you, but I know it’s not my place…”
“What? Tell me,” he says. I go tense against him.
“Okay. Um. Has…has your mom talked to you this week? About…anything?”
“No. I’ve been avoiding the hell out of her.”
“Well…she’s avoiding you, too.”
“Why?”
“Do you really want to know?”
“You already started it.”
“Okay. Eliot, um…the night she cornered me in the bathroom, she…she told me she’s…”
“What? Say it.”
“She told me she’s divorcing your stepdad, and she’s terrified of telling you.”
I wait. He just stares at me, though.
“Well? Are you upset?” I ask.
“Uh…no. Not really.”
“You’re not?”
“So that’s been her issue this whole time? Jesus. I already knew that.”
“You did?” I ask.
“Robert, I’m young, not blind. They’re barely sharing a life anymore. She hasn’t said anything, no, but I knew this was coming. I was just waiting for her to tell me. I mean, it’s sad, sure, but I have my own relationship with Rick. I’ll be fine. But they can’t stand each other. They shouldn’t waste their middle ages with each other because of me.”
I just stare at the sky. Then, for the craziest reason, I let out a nervous laugh. “God, she thought you would be so upset…she’ll be so relieved…”
“And I’m relieved that was the thing making her act so weird,” he says. “I thought…well, you know what I thought. And…wait, that’s why you stopped talking to me that time?”
“Kind of. Yeah. I just…I didn’t know what to do. It really threw me.”
“At least it was nothing I did.”
I laugh as my head spins. It feels like I am dreaming in real life. Eliot loves me. Eliot Prince really loves me…
“I have something else to say,” I tell him after a short pause. “I’ve been thinking, and…I want your Sundays.”
“What?”
“Most people want someone’s Friday nights,” I begin. “They want their Saturday evenings. Most people want your highlight reel, the parts where you pretend to be who you pretend to be when you think people are looking. But I want your deep cuts, Eliot. I want to be there for all of it, the whole thing, and then some. If you let me in, I’ll never leave. I want to do this, Eliot.”
For a long time he doesn’t say anything.
“God,” he manages soon. “Why do you have to be so wonderful?”
“Because you are. And it makes me want to rise to your level. I love getting to love you.”
“Shut up.”
And then we do the most dangerous and most beautiful thing: we fall asleep together under a comforter of Carolina stars.