Page 4 of Ginjuh

“Does that really mean you lost your virginity?” I asked as I walked towards the kitchen. “I mean, is a blowie enough to completely remove the tag, man?”

“More than you ever fucking got.” He scoffed.

“Well, maybe I’ll call Mandy.” I teased.

“She’s not a chick with a dick, so I doubt she’d do it for you.” It sounded insulting, but we both laughed when he said it. “Still haven’t had anyone walk down the red carpet?”

“Very clever,” I said. “But never refer to my carpet or drapes matching, Jay. It’s creepy. Also, it’s not ‘chick with a dick’, the term is ‘transsexual’.”

He laughed, then suddenly stopped.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out fucking sheep or something?” He teased. “I don’t hear the sound of startled livestock and squealing pigs, man.”

I ignored the insult and opened the fridge to fetch the water pitcher. Making my way over to the cupboard, I pulled down a large plastic cup—the kind you get in a six-pack at the Dollar General with the rough edges that always tried to slice your lips open. The water poured from the pitcher into the cup, tantalizing and crystal clear, making my throat clench with desire. Before I answered Jason, I brought the cup to my lips and took a healthy gulp.

“Grandpa didn’t need me today.” I shrugged to no one as I cleared my throat. “He’s not going to plant this fall. He’s going to do a corn maze for Halloween. Spread the word, I guess. Help him make some money.”

“Fuckin’ sweet, man!” He crowed. “Like a haunted corn maze or a hayride thing or—”

“Dude.” I stopped him with a laugh. “I just found out about it this morning. Did Mandy suck out some brains or what?”

He guffawed.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I know, but right now that’s all I know,” I added over his laughter.

“All right, man.” He said. “So…you don’t have anything to do?”

I shrugged, as if we were FaceTiming.

“I guess not.”

”Come pick me up, man!”

“It’s seven o’clock in the morning.” I groaned.

“Yeah.” Jason snorted. “That means we have 24 hours before we’re walking back into the bowels of Hell, man. There ain’t much summer left!”

“Don’t you want to spend it with Mandy?” I teased before draining the rest of the water in my cup.

“Eh.” He responded. “I can always get you to give me head if I get excited, man.”

“Wow,” I said. “I just puked in my mouth a little.”

“Come on, Ginjuh.” He laughed. “Let’s do something, man.”

“If you’ll stop calling me that, I’ll swing by after I get a shower.”

“Sweet!”

Jason merely hung up. Probably so that I didn’t have a chance to take back the promise of coming to his house to get him once I had showered. I sighed to myself, though not unamused, and locked my phone before sliding it back into my pocket. Jason and I had been friends since middle school when we both ended up in the same homeroom, then the same first period, then second, then third….and so on. We even had the same lunch period and Study Hall, so it was inevitable that we would be drawn into a friendship.

At first, our friendship was based on convenience—the same person in each class and break, someone to create familiarity and comfort. Before I knew it, though, we were staying at each other’s houses, studying together, watching movies together, spending every waking moment together when we weren’t in school and I wasn’t at Grandpa’s farm. However, he was straight and I was gay, so a great friendship was all that it would ever be. At first, of course, when I really start to settle into the fact that I knew that I liked guys, I found myself wondering about Jason. About whether or not he might be like me. When we were staying at each other’s houses, I’d find my eyes lingering on him, on his body, wondering what it would be like to actually do things with him. After just a few days, though, I realized that doing anything sexual with my best friend would probably make me want to vomit. He was like a brother.

Moment of honesty, sure, we had masturbated late at night during sleepovers, but never in an “I’ll touch yours if you touch mine” type of way. It was more or less an activity we each wanted to do and we happened to be in the same room. Like curious boys coming into their sexuality at that age, we had each snuck a glance or five at each other’s dicks, checked out each other’s bodies, that kind of thing. However, Jason was just comparing himself to me, and though I was gay, I was doing the same. I didn’t want Jason’s dick or body, but I did want to see what another guy’s body was like. No more, no less.

Jason, or “Jay”, as I often called him, was the first person I had come out to, like a practice run for my parents and other friends and family. Like trying on what terror felt like so that I might slide into it better on the next go.

I’m…I’m gay. I had said that fateful night in the dark of his bedroom from my spot on the air mattress on the floor next to his bed.