During the morning that followed my declaration of mutual feelings for Jonathan, I initiated a discussion on sharing our new status as boyfriends with our small group of friends and managed to convince him to agree. He was inevitably apprehensive to do so as he feared the responses we would receive for being romantically involved as two guys, but little did he know, they were also hiding their own secrets from him for the same reason. If I had not stumbled upon Beth and Faith that day, I would be as concerned and oblivious as he was.
In spite of possessing such knowledge, I dared not divulge any information with him as a way of encouraging him because I felt it was only right for the individuals to come out themselves if they wished to do so. Noticing the doubt that had emerged on his face, I volunteered to text instead but he was insistent on doing it himself, oddly. However, with the amount of hesitation present from his trembling thumb hovering over the send button after he had input his confession in the chat box, it was my cue to once again reassure him and that I could do it if he was unable to.
Without consideration, I was immediately declined.
I chuckled at his fluctuating determination which prevented him from acting as promised before beaming tenderly. "Don't worry, I doubt they're like those people. Trust me on this, okay?"
A gentle ripple of ease washed over the anxiety that had creased his eyebrows, his lips curved slightly upward before nodding, seeming to have dug out some fortitude from my attempt at comforting him. His chest gradually rose as he seeped in a steady deep breath and steadily deflated as he released the air that carried the burden of his worries. Without further delay, he delivered the message, and before he could exit the app to forget all about it, it was already seen by none other than the most active user Beth.
I could imagine the frenetic clacking of her nails against the keyboard as a bolt of rapture struck her before her massive speech bubble ballooned and expanded with several questions of what, who, when, where, why, and how along with her congratulations, in capital letters. As if Beth had caused a virus outbreak, the rest subsequently joined in with exclamation marks and stickers to express their joy and Jonathan's countenance instantly brightened up with a combination of amazement and relief. And as I had thought, they also decided it was the ideal juncture to trust him with the things they kept hidden away safe from judgment. Needless to say, Jonathan was just as accepting as they had hoped him to be from the very beginning.
Filling our freedom with our own hobbies, short outdoor dates and intimacy, the mornings transitioned to nights with ease within what was perceived to be only several hours. Every passing day I would wish for earth to stop orbiting so that I could relish these moments I had longed for with Jonathan, except we were engaging in more than just hanging out as two buddies which the clueless past me would have never guessed would happen.
It had been a week since that memorable evening at the park. There were certain times where I was unable to stave off the familiar loneliness from descending because I commonly recalled that I was incapable of imparting the good news with my mom, nor was I able to physically be with her. Nevertheless, my mind seemed to have secured a sort of peace while it was still sunken in the dark struggling to locate the nearest light switch, as if I had finally begun to come to terms with actuality upon having discovered a form of solace provided by someone else.
Of course, it had not been as easy as I had hoped it had been—my life changed drastically since the news of her death had been confirmed. My mind often abused me with reminders of her absence, as if it was plotting to eventually asphyxiate me with grief. At my lowest point, I had wished my misery could materialize into a tenacious grip around my neck and truly smother me until my last breath, just to be with her again. But she would refuse to let me spiral down that path and I did not desire to inflict her with any sorrow.
Meeting Jonathan was my getaway, and for once, I was mentally spared from my cruel thoughts and blessed with a chance to appreciate the other things I had. Ironically, while I was brooding over the affinity I had with Jonathan, I realized that the profound confusion was enough to occupy the whole space in my head. It had become a distraction that I could rely on to contradictorily move onward from my main problem and yet get stuck into another that was less severe.
Even though I could merely interact with Mom through my dreams and fantasies, I wanted to believe that she was still here, somewhere among the pure cotton candy clouds looking over me. On multiple occasions, these fluffy undulating billows would trace her beautiful attributes on the sky's canvas, and as the illusion lingered, so did my sorrow. But right now, I could gaze at them, free from emotional resistance, and return a small smile.
In spite of having established that we were partners, Jonathan and I have not engaged in anything we deemed more extreme than hugging. We could huddle on the couch, hold hands and embrace each other tightly, and that was about it. It was no surprise that nothing worth noting had occurred because, firstly, our romance had recently blossomed, and secondly, we were both new to the concept of relationship. Even kissing, a normal act of affection between lovers, was an idea that flustered me.
Nonetheless, I failed to control the creativity of my imagination and was therefore guilty of wondering about how the scene would unfold if our lips touched. However, I was willing to exercise patience despite my avidity, as rushing into such rashness could have its consequences. One more obstacle was our parents. Granted that we have been restricting excessive skinship around them, refraining even from friendly intimacy could protect us from any suspicions, especially when we never displayed any prior.
While a typical couple of a marginalized category in society would panic over whether their identities would be welcomed, our issue did not lie in the acceptance of our sexualities but rather if our fathers reckoned we were prepared to be dating at our current stage in life. Dad was a bisexual man and although Mr. Brad's preferences were unknown, it was safe to say that the cause of disapproval was highly unlikely due to our widely political sexual orientations. Mr. Brad might not make such a big fuss about it, but Dad who particularly prioritized his son's independence and maturity might not be as calm. Without proper planning and consultation, it was better to keep things under a façade for now.
It was too early to be brooding over the future.
Basking in another fresh, unsupervised weekday, Jonathan and I agreed on going out for a date after exclusively having rendezvoused in various parts of the house for the past days. But this was not just an additional casual jaunt to an affordable restaurant, mall or cinema, which used to be adequate in satiating our thirst for mild excitement and passion. Lately, we were craving for a tad more thrill, and where else would be a better place for such entertainment other than an amusement park? It was composed of an array of fun activities and themed assortments of food (albeit expensive). What more could we ask for in a hunt of adventure?
What began as simple prating during our trip had died down to a reciprocal silence bounded by an unspoken initiative to indulge in a film on Jonathan's phone, a counterpart bluetooth earpiece secured in one of our ears. Notwithstanding the exiguous physical exertion from some walking, the monotony of a lengthy journey via public transportation had worn us down, and the interminable waiting line for our tickets had exacerbated its effects. Our pent up fatigue had redirected our desires momentarily, evoking a desperate proclivity for dropping our patience for a nearby café, but a single sighting of the ticket booth nearing sparked a burst of hope.
After a smooth transaction that was accompanied by a playful banter on whether I should pay my half, which I had proudly persuaded Jonathan to allow me to, we found ourselves imprisoned once more in between the claustrophobic, serpentine rows of people teeming with shared restlessness. Fortunately, we advanced rather quickly and, in the bat of an eyelid, we stood before the turnstile, paper bands printed with barcodes around our wrists ready to be processed. With a swift placement of our hands beneath the scanner, the gates swung forward, now no longer posing as a border between an unfair reality and a world of delightful escape.
Intimidating motley roller coaster tracks swirled around the vicinity, carrying pods of shrieks in perpetual acceleration through nauseating loops and plummeting down vertiginous slopes that could paralyze even the bravest with prickling chills. The majestic spinning ferris wheel stationed in the middle, dubbed as one of the most remarkable landmarks here, towered over hardworking employees underneath suits of popular cartoon characters and common folks enjoying their day off.
This scene was an exact copy of what was portrayed in the media, and it was incredible.
I had never been to a theme park or a carnival before, and I would often earn weird glances from others upon their discovery, as if it was a compulsory tradition for every typical family. Mom and Dad were both industrious beings, busy as bees on a daily basis, but they had also expressed ardor for their jobs. When we were simultaneously unoccupied, our type of respite was anything excluding somewhere with rowdy rabbles, in deference to Dad's sensitivity to loud noises. But despite the limitation, I had no complaints and felt it was perfect as it was.
"Where do you wanna go first?" Jonathan asked.
"I don't know." I shrugged. "This is my first time at an amusement park, so where do you recommend?"
"Seriously?" His eyes bulged slightly at my revelation, resembling the shock of those who had asked. He then pondered, fingers loosely perched on his chin as his pupils drifted to the background of rides behind us, scouring his options. His umber orbs languidly fixated themselves on something in the vast expanse, a smirk ghosting across his cheeks. I didn't have to inquire more or spoil myself with a peek to get the hint. "Scared of heights?"
He jerked his chin toward the source of suspense, urging me to confront the pre-eminent steel monstrosity that clearly reigned superior to its kin. Its presence emanated a menacing aura with the ability to spike anyone's heart rate, yet the tingles from the natural trepidation could be mistaken for shivers of eagerness. Its enormous size and gimmicks could not faze me as much as it could arouse my curiosity on what I had been missing out on my entire existence.
The human jam we were caught in reflected how favored this particular attraction was, with several newcomers hopping on the bandwagon every minute, and even old participants who sought to relive the elation that surged through their every nerve during their intense aerial trial. I couldn't imagine how packed it would be on a weekend when we were practically swarmed like locusts on a field of lush vegetation on a random Wednesday. Thankfully, every rotation effectuated an evitable dent in the expecting throng and before we got too bored from idling around, it was our turn.
While we were lucky to fit into the vacancy, it was a pity we were appointed to the last row as, according to Jonathan, the adrenaline would be totally minimized. His cheeky grin made me dubious about the authenticity of his claim, so I took his statement with a pinch of salt and opted to base my opinion on my own firsthand experience instead.
After the staff in red polo ensured that safety precautions had been activated to fasten all passengers to their seats, they bade us a temporary farewell as the carts rumbled and lurched into motion with a metallic screech. Like the drumming organ in my chest, it rapidly picked up its pace as we weaved through swerves and dips, building up anticipation for the eagerly awaited main event.
We slowed down when we reached the foot of the hill with a rasping creak and started our ascent, gathering momentum with every inch we climbed. The rhythmic click-clacks blended in with the riders' murmurs and quiet chatters until we neared the peak, where all noise except for the mechanical hums of the cars faded. The closer we approached the upcoming climax, the larger my nervousness swelled, as if a cluster of butterflies were about to burst my stomach open.
At the pinnacle of suspense, we paused briefly, teased by the anticipation of what laid ahead. Then, dramatically tilting, a powerful force sent us plunging down the steep decline, exuberant exclamations and screams erupting as we fell. Tentatively raising my hands up to copy those in front, the strong wind sifted through my fingers. It was only now that I was cognizant of the absolute bliss gushing through my veins that I surrendered to the compulsion to yell along with everyone.
Jonathan was doing the same.
With immaculate speed, we raced through twists and wreathes, every dive executed drove the riders into a frenzy. Amidst soaring through an enormous ring of rails, we progressively ceased movement at the apex. Vision inverted and hair dangling, terror crept in as I speculated the likelihood of a breakdown in the system. But before I could gawk at Jonathan for some explanation, we plunged.
Not forward.
Backward.
I yelped, instantaneously yet subconsciously thrusting my hand toward Jonathan's side to clutch onto whatever my palm collided with. Gravity flung us rearward into oblivion, absurdly faster than before, much like being sucked into a crack in space which we couldn't evade. Throughout this duration, I endured the somersaults in my abdomen and watched the ether recede farther. I squeezed relentlessly onto what was trapped within my digits as the weightless sensation continued consuming us.
The train incrementally halted its reckless reversal to reveal the tremendous image of the hoop that conquered us before propelling us forth. Now, instead of being the victims of its masterful ploy, we successfully overcame its tactic, and after a few more zigzags and bends, we landed ourselves back at the station. The passengers had mellowed, as though the effortless escapade had depleted all their energy.
I, too, was recovering from bilious awe.
In a flash, I awoke to my senses with an initial inclination to rave about the awesomeness that had transpired, and to point out the obvious fib he had used to intentionally deceive me. But before my instincts prevailed, I discerned the presence of something soft yet firm within my clasp. Swiveling my neck, I promptly noticed my hand wrapped around his forearm. Following that was the complacency radiating from his expression greeting me in the backdrop.
Overwhelmed with embarrassment, I snatched my hand back in a flash and avoided staring in his direction to save some dignity. Soon after, our restraints released with a clank and the crowd onboard dispersed to the exit only for the void to be brimming with visitors at once. Jonathan wasted no willpower in suppressing himself from nudging me repeatedly to chaff me about the aftermath of my reflexes, and this persisted endlessly. However, thanks to my stubbornness in remaining silent to his comments, he swapped topics.
After a wild inaugural exposure to the buzz about these wonderlands, we explored more recreations available, ranging from more roller coasters to bumper cars and funhouses. While those were uniquely enthralling, nothing could compare to what I was introduced to. It somewhat disappointed me that what had captured the essence of an indelible impression was not reserved as the grand finale. Nonetheless, such a minor complaint was smoothly overshadowed by the overall satisfaction that had enveloped me during our hangout.
We settled for a much needed break at a random bench to alleviate our palpitations. In the distance, children hauled their parents to food trucks or wagons for overpriced treats shaped in their favorite character's silhouette, and admittedly, I was unable to flee from temptation's grasp either. It might be wise to forgo spending on snacks that emphasize on appearance more than flavors, yet, the sheer possibility of losing out on the exclusivity was all the appeal I needed. Since our hunger had not completely manifested into gnawing rumbles within our bellies, choosing these meticulously crafted appetizers seemed justifiable.
Or perhaps, I was simply tricking myself into validating my poor excuse for a terrible financial decision. But right now, the regret could be postponed.
We came so far, figuratively and literally, and this could be my only opportunity. What was a little more?
Just like that, my impulsiveness won, and I dragged an insouciant Jonathan to multiple culinary hotspots. The food costed almost twice or thrice as much as what we could get normally, and predictably, they tasted mediocre at best, with rare exceptions. Though I had foreseen this outcome, the reproach I had put off sought its revenge and crept in. It didn't matter, however, the money was gone.
We then toured around the different shops to admire the pretty merchandise up for sale with the mutual agreement of not buying any, as the entrance fee and refreshments had already blown a hole through our wallets. If Jonathan, who was spoiled with a generous monthly allowance, was repressing his urge to luxuriate, I had less of a choice as someone who obtains half of what he gets. In view of his tendencies, Jonathan would voluntarily sacrifice his funds for me, but I was not keen on taking advantage of his kindness, even if I had been yearning for something.
I wasn't like her.
Our next checkpoint was the game stalls, where we squandered some of our leftover budget on a rigged test of luck and skill. It would be a fluke to win one of these, and frankly speaking, wasting our resources on these made our so-called lunch seem like a wise resolution to our still awakening appetite earlier. But as per usual, my profligate outlays were defended by a litany of pretexts.
We alternated fruitlessly tossing rings onto pegs, inaccurately shooting darts at the target and popping too few balloons for a prize. Shortly, we gave up and relied on observing the proficient players show off for our pleasure, sour from our unrewarded labor. The sun was setting, and upon feeling bored of the experts' prolonged performance, we ventured off into the deeper section we hadn't investigated.
This was the last area, and it only operated from the evenings until closing. Kids were banned here, for their own sake of being able to sleep peacefully at night, and aficionados of dark films loved coming here. It was, needless to say, the horror zone, populated with our fears and nightmares. Ghostly apparitions and ghastly creatures, bloodied from either their doomed fate or their cruel massacres, roamed alongside us earthlings who have wandered into their territory.
As we ambled down the dimly lit streets, these loitering monsters would hunch and gape at us disturbingly with the demeanor of predators poised to strike. Limping zombies and tattered creepy mascots would surface from the black fog in the alleyways to grunt at unsuspecting passersby, inducing cries from their prey. The marvelous actors under thick coatings of makeup, drenched in scarlet, had done their duties of trying to make us flinch, but both Jonathan and I only laughed tensely while backing away from the workers intuitively.
Surviving the horde of undeads, we maundered through the neatly organized stanchions and integrated with the file of two citizens before the haunted mansion. Since business had begun running fairly recently, masses had not fully assembled, and assuming a party was just let in, it was us four and the doorman on his walkie-talkie with his colleague. Out of nowhere, the female at the forefront sulked.
"I wonder how much longer we have to wait . . ."
Her mellifluous voice tickled my eardrums, stimulating a peculiar itch within the recesses of my memory. Her satiny, brown locks laced with her euphonious timbre into an inkling of recognition which scratched at my brain. Where have I heard this voice? I mused blankly, absorbed by the silkiness of her tresses flaunted in shampoo advertisements. And as if Jonathan had acknowledged my distress, he uttered a name that would connect all the dots.
"Natalie?"
The duo pivoted in command, astonishment warped their visages. There she was, the innocent girl whom I had shunned out of unsubstantiated bitterness. Ever since I owned up to my jealousy, my perspective of her had shifted, almost as though all the animosity I had harbored toward her belonged to someone else. She did not pose a threat nor was she malicious as I had falsely accused her to be. She was just another amicable student who was sadly ensnared by my delusional hatred.
Now that I had a close-up of her, she was elegant, both inside and outside. That made me relatively insecure about myself.
I slipped away from my reverie and remembered the male beside her. I studied him, examining his mein which had a notable contrast to Natalie's. He wore a black leather jacket over a white shirt paired with navy jeans. He sported a tousled chestnut undercut, exhibiting the ebony studs pierced through his lobes. Conversely, Natalie donned a sleeveless, pale yellow, floral dress draped to her knees, complemented by a bracelet consisting of cute flower beads. Their proximity implied they were attached but the boy's bearings narrated another story as he did not seem to be her cup of tea.
"Oh, hey! I didn't expect to see you two here," Natalie chirped, hooking her arm around the tall teen adjacent to her whose irises were casted aside out of unexpected awkwardness. "This is Brandon, he's my boyfriend."
"So he's the one you've mentioned multiple times," snickered an impish Jonathan, causing Brandon to visibly react. "Nice to meet you, we're Natalie's friends. I'm Jonathan and," he gestured with his thumb toward me. "This is Jeremy."
"Hey." Analogous to a code that had been programmed into a software, I generated an automatic smile and elevated my limb to mimic an unmoving wave.
A conversation between Jonathan and Natalie spurred from this unforeseen encounter, leaving Brandon and I to dissolve into the periphery of their chatter. Jonathan would sometimes pull me into their babbling to preclude any potential ostracism, but my insertion didn't bring much merit to either my social ineptitude or their dialogue as I could offer solely nods and terse replies. Natalie didn't seem bothered since she was likely aware of the barrier our sparse interchange had constructed.
At first, Natalie didn't impose herself on Brandon and respected his penchant for staying out of the communication with us. However, presumably influenced by Jonathan, she too roped Brandon along, except she did this by lightly joking about his reticence. She told us to not to mind his shyness, which riveted his attention and prodded him to scowl at her lightheartedly while denying the claim. I could now understand why Natalie was with him. He projected himself as someone cool to belie his introverted personality. Behind that tough exterior could be someone who was more sensitive to others.
This was later proved to be true during our expedition to the eerie manor, along with the following cursed sites we scouted out together, evident by Brandon's constant clinging to Natalie and his frequent jumps from the scare strategies. Even though no one criticized him for this, he did not conceal his sheepishness. It was kind of refreshing to witness his real self under the layers masking it.
After our expedition, we unwinded at a table in one of the restaurants, skimming through their online menus and ordering from their website. Since there were no servers here, we had to personally collect our own dinner at the counter, which Jonathan and Brandon volunteered to do for us. This meant that it was just me and Natalie, sitting across each other with our phones out to divert our focus from the discomfiture between us.
At the outset of this situation, I was going to ignore her and read a digital comic, but I couldn't allay the discontent chipping away at me. I owed her an apology, even if she didn't know why, because I despised the culpability weighing down on me for mistreating her with my evasive behavior in the past. She was affable and supportive of Jonathan before we confessed. I genuinely wanted to know her better and maybe even befriend her.
I lowered my mobile device and inhaled slowly. "Hey, um, Natalie?"
Her eyes widened with flickering incredulity. "Yeah, what's up?"
"Well . . ." I swallowed. "I'm sorry for always avoiding you. The truth is, I was jealous of you because I liked Jonathan. I was afraid of losing him to you, but at the same time, I didn't do anything because I didn't want to completely lose him."
I sighed, remorseful recollections flooding back. "That made me dislike you, even though you didn't do anything wrong. I genuinely think that you're a nice person, and I was hoping maybe we can properly start over?"
Mouth agape, she assimilated the information, and within seconds, she was twinkling at me. "It's all right, I understand! I've always wanted to speak to you but I didn't want to force myself on you, especially when you weren't ready yet. Jonathan told me the good news, and I'm happy for the two of you. I'd be happy to be your friend."
Just like that, all the bottled up afflictions dissipated and tranquility engulfed me in a warm hug. I couldn't describe the influx of serenity that invaded me. My happiness and gratitude was overflowing that I couldn't contain my grin. Bashful, I veiled my overt jubilation with my knuckles and thanked her diffidently.
"No need to thank me," she giggled. "By the way, I read that comic too. It's so good! I'm waiting for it to update."
It just now dawned on me that she could glimpse the periodical I had been obsessed with from this angle. A jolt of ebullience electrified me when I fathomed her sentence. "You read this too?"
Jonathan and Brandon came back with our meals on a tray in the middle of our prattling about our concordant interests, bewildered by what was transpiring. Though intrigued by the spontaneous blossoming of our bond, they didn't probe into it and simply listened to our blathering. Even between bites, we'd still ramble about the graphic novel, eliminating any room for interruption. We even exchanged contact details so that we could talk about our other similar pursuits.
The night's indigo had permeated the empyrean domain, functioning as an indication for us to extend our adieus. As Natalie and her inamorato departed, Brandon's arm enfolded her shoulders protectively as a sudden assertion of dominance for whatever purpose. He then leaned in and they froze during their stride for a kiss.
We didn't stick around much after to know what else they did.
As we traversed the ensemble of amenities we had utilized at least once during our excursion, the ferris wheel loomed over us. We became so engrossed with everything else that we neglected the iconic monument before us, which now dazzled with bulbs of luminescent colors dancing under the stars. We committed to sampling each and every service there were, regardless of its superficial significance.
So here we were, side by side, in a rising carriage and a breathtaking vista.
Jonathan's words sliced through the muteness within the sphere encapsulating us. "Since when did you and Natalie get along so well?"
Abandoning the magnificent morphing panorama, I whipped around to orient myself toward Jonathan who leered at me inscrutably. "Oh, well, when you guys were away, I decided to apologize to her about the way I was acting around her . . . and then we found out we liked a lot of the same things."
"Well, I'm glad you guys can get along, but . . ."
"But?"
Jonathan glided over to me, gluing our shoulders. "I'm kinda jealous, not gonna lie."
Jealous? I contemplated, lost in the spectacle beyond our boundaries yet again. But we're already dating though, what's there to be jealous of?
In lieu of verbalizing my perplexity, I simpered. "How does your own medicine taste?"
"Bitter," he snorted faintly. "Wanna know how you can make me feel better?"
"And what if I don't want—"
Abruptly, Jonathan seized my chin and compelled me to stare into his mesmerizing hazel orbs. "But I want you to."
Without any warning, his lips pressed onto mine. Too stunned to comprehend, my body stiffened and internal hysteria plagued my soul. My ribs rattled with every thump pulsating within it and a shudder crawled down my spine. Then, his hand sneaked around my waist and delicately drew me in. Pacified by his forbearance, my muscles relaxed and my fingers inadvertently caressed his left cheek as I submitted to the subtle ecstasy. The intramural pounding now emulated the flares of fireworks that it was almost magical.
Separating in a daze, Jonathan's facial features were graced with sincerity and affection, stupefying me and muddling my capacity to think. Blushing and regaining my composure, I muttered, "At least prepare me or something . . ."
He tittered fondly. "Nah, I think surprises like these are nice once in a while."
I wouldn't end this special outing any other way.
YOU ARE READING
Lost With You
Romance(Note: Short hiatus until end of first week of June.) A young boy's struggle with grief finding the solidarity he longed for through love.
