Page 42 of Ginjuh

“That would be a shame.”

Austin groaned and popped his door open. Before I could pull him back or change his mind in some way, he hopped out. Once he was outside of the car, he bent down and peered inside at me.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” I responded quickly.

“Tomorrow?” He asked, then frowned. “I mean, later today?”

“We have a corn maze to operate, don’t we?” I teased.

He gave an upward nod.

“I expect you to dream about me.”

Before I could tell him that he had inhabited my dreams for over a month, he had closed the door and dashed up the sidewalk to his house. Obviously, he knew that if he didn’t leave, he never would. I watched him run towards the house and then made sure he got inside. He turned in the doorway and waved at me. I waved back, then gestured for him to get inside with a smile. Once I saw the door of his house close, I smiled happily to myself and put the car into gear and pulled away from the front of his house. Hopefully, Mr. Mankins wouldn’t be too upset that Austin had gotten home until after one o’clock in the morning. Though, if I knew Grandpa, he had probably called Mr. Mankins to tell him not to worry—the boys is just out there making the nasty in my damn field.

I laughed to myself at the thought, though it was embarrassing. Though Grandpa and Dad hadn’t stuck around after they caught us groping each other and kissing, surely they realized it took a long time for us to come back out of the field. Only a couple of complete idiots could have convinced themselves that we were out there having high tea or something. Grandpa and Dad knew what we were doing—but we were both young men. They’d both been our age before—they weren’t ignorant. Whether or not they fully approved was another matter, but it was what it was. Austin and I were two idiot, gay teenagers in love. There’s really no stopping a train like that.

When I got home and walked in the garage door that led into the house, Dad was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of tea. I averted my eyes as best as I could, trying to act innocent. He merely raised the cup to his lips as he shook his head disapprovingly. I didn’t miss the sly grin on his face, though. Sure, he had to let me know that what I’d done wasn’t exactly acceptable—but he knew what it was like to be a young guy in love. Parents always see themselves in their kids, regardless of how alike they actually are, relive their younger years vicariously through them. It’s hard to get and stay mad for long when they do something fairly innocent, like lose their virginity.

Instead of staying and seeing if Dad would give me “the talk” or something equally embarrassing, I made my way up to my room. If he gave me a talk, I’d have surely asked about what transpired between him and Grandpa. I think we both needed the night to process what we’d both just gone through that night. We needed to sit with those feelings, see how they fit. We’d talk eventually, but not until we both had time to figure out the words that needed to be said to truly convey how we felt. I wanted to know that Dad’s and Grandpa’s relationship was on the mend—but I wanted Dad to have the time he needed to settle into that decision first.

Up in my room, I fell back on my bed, smiling up at the ceiling as I let the memories I’d collected over the evening wash over me. I knew I probably smelled like sex—sweat and dirt and…other things…but I knew that I didn’t want to shower and wash it away until later. I wanted to sleep with it, let it spice my dreams of Austin that night. I reached into my pocket and shot off a text to Austin.

Goodnight. I love you.

I love you, too. Goodnight.

He had responded within seconds, as though he was expecting my text. I liked that. Then I reached into my pocket and withdrew the folded piece of paper that Austin had given to me in the car. The poem he said he had written the day before while thinking about me in his history class. I unfolded the paper gently, treating it like it was Austin himself, then held it up in front of my face to read: