It took AG a month to call me again. After that first time in his dorm, he dropped me off at home, took my number, and then called me so I had his in my phone; and then he left. I didn't think I'd ever hear from him again.
When he did call, at first I didn't remember who "Austin Guy" was.
"What are you doing?"
Ah yes. That voice. WHOOSH goes the adrenalin. "I'm at a party. What are you doing?"
"Playing video games."
"That sounds fun."
"Yeah." 50 Cent played in the background, amidst squealing tires and explosions. BOOM skreeeeech!
"Do you still live at the same place?" he asked.
"No, I moved, down south."
"Oh. Do you have a roommate?"
"But he's out of town."
"Oh, oh okay. That's cool."
"I don't know...you know, maybe if you wanted to get together later..."
(sigh) "Don't make me say it."
"Do you want me to come over or not?"
"If you want to."
"I can leave in a few minutes, let me finish this game."
I was in my car two minutes later.
What does one do while you wait for AG to come over? Watch TV, I guess. But what to have on the TV when he walks in? ESPN? I don't know. Nothing too gay. We have to set the mood, make him feel comfortable. Although it took him a while to show up. So I had started flipping channels, when...knock knock knock. I leaped to the door. But I opened it really cool.
"Hey," he said.
I repeated him. "Hey." He had ring of keys in one hand, and a 12-pack of Heineken in the other. That is the 12-pack that would sit in my refrigerator for months, until he drank them all one-by-one.
"I brought some beer, hope you don't mind."
He put it in the kitchen, took out a bottle, and opened my drawers to look for a bottle opener. Without asking. I like that. I sat back down on the couch.
He walked into the living room, beer in hand--and this is when he started his routine, of take a few steps in, stand with hands in pockets; say "whassup?" and nod head up quickly in greeting. Even though I already greeted him at the door. Then slowly walk into living room, flop down on couch, take ratty baseball cap off and mess up hair a little, then put cap back on. The AG Dance. One sip of the beer, and down on the table it goes.
"How's school?" I asked.
"How you been?" he asked.
"Good. Busy with work."
And he looked at me from the corners of his eyes, without turning his head; he had his hands in his lap, but he let one drop nonchalantly, like it would be more comfortable down to his side. And he moved it over sloooooowly, so I wouldn't notice. I pretended not to.
His hand touched my leg, to see if I would push it away, I guess?...and I didn't. So it climbed up onto my leg, and wrapped around my thigh; little squeeze, and there it sat. I put my hand on his arm. I looked at him, and smiled a little. This is okay. He just looked back.
And he jumped on me.
We had practice from our last time on his dormroom bed, holding on to each other to keep from falling off; this time we even managed to take our clothes off while lying there. I got his elbow in my face, and I pulled a muscle in my leg; I smacked him in the nose with my forehead. It didn't matter. We just went for it.
But he pulled his head back. "Could we change the channel or something? The Golden Girls isn't doing much for the mood."