Dominick
Within seconds of opening my eyes, I realized I wasn't in my own bed. At first, the events of last night were a blur. Scratching the back of my head, I racked my brain, attempting to recall the details. I propped myself on my elbow, scanning the small studio apartment, wondering where the hell I was. Doctors warned me not to mix my medication with alcohol or mind altering drugs like ecstasy, and now I knew why. I rarely ever slept over another man's house.
On the bed beside me, I discovered a piece of paper with my name on it. I unfolded it and read the note over and over. Josh? I knew a Josh once... I mused to myself. I remembered the kisses from last night and their familiarity. No, it can't be... There are lots of Joshes in the world. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it was possible. He lived on Cape Cod and visited Provincetown often. That's why he was familiar. That's why I gravitated toward him.
I wandered around his small studio apartment, searching for evidence that would prove he was the Joshua Morgan I first met when I was fourteen.
On the small table, I found a pay stub with his name and birthday on it, addressed to a Joshua Morgan from Boston. His birthday proved it was the Josh I knew.
Oh, God... I had casual sex with my first crush.
Or was it something more than a crush? I couldn't say for sure. We were just kids.
In awe, I plopped down at the table, the events of last night flooding my brain. Sexy as hell and shirtless, Josh's body glowed and shimmered in the dark. His skin was so smooth, his hair slightly curly and damp from sweat. We pulled at each other's hair as we kissed wildly on the dance floor. Our passion resumed outside in the dark woods. And then everything else happened. He did things he only dreamt of doing with me as a teenager.
Macmillan Pier... tonight... I'll be there.
At three in the afternoon, I left Josh's apartment to search for my car in the parking lot on the same pier I planned on meeting Josh at eight o'clock tonight. What was I thinking? I went to the club last night, planning on getting wasted, yet I still drove. I was an expert at making bad decisions. If I hadn't ended up with Josh, I would have driven back to Chatham inebriated.
While I was out, my mother left me five messages on the answering machine. I supposed I gave her good reason to worry. Before taking a shower, I called her back, reassuring her that I was safe and not suicidal. She was at work so I left a message. Hopefully that would satisfy her.
"Hi, Mom," I started. "Sorry I missed your calls. I'm doing okay. I ran into an old friend last night. We're having dinner together tonight. I'll call you tomorrow. Stop worrying. I'm fine. Bye."
Josh didn't specify what we were going to do, but what else were we going to do tonight besides have dinner together? I couldn't party two nights in a row.
When I was younger, I preferred communicating in ASL because it meant I didn't have to use my voice. I wondered how much of it I'd remember. Maybe Josh could give me a refresher course.
I never imagined being face to face with Josh Morgan again, and I never imagined having mind blowing sex together.
Dating wasn't something I did often, so I fretted over what to wear tonight. I liked to fuck and run.
On my bed, I dumped out my suitcases, searching for the right thing to wear. Finally, I settled on a light blue long-sleeved button down shirt and blue jeans. There, I looked respectable, like I was going on a first date. Was this a date? I had no clue. Meeting up with Josh tonight filled me with a sense of excitement and hope, things I hadn't felt in a long time.
Macmillan Pier was huge with three parking lots, surrounded by boats and plenty of places to catch a whale watching cruise. Josh didn't say where to meet him. Ten minutes before eight, I waited on a bench by one of the many whale watching cruise platforms.
After sitting for five minutes, I jumped to my feet, not because I saw anyone that resembled Josh, but because I was crawling out of my skin with anxiety. On this warm, starry June night, I paced back and forth along the boardwalk, my heart pounding in my chest. As I turned around, I stopped in my tracks as a tall, slender man in a purple paisley shirt and tight fitting black jeans approached me. His hair wasn't as unruly as I remembered him from last night. He looked as though he'd just gotten out of the shower. He was so sleek and beautiful. I was in awe of his presence.
As he stood in front of me, I swallowed hard, my heart beating out of my chest. "Hi," Josh said with a cute, shy wave. If I recalled correctly, he wasn't shy last night.
"I... I... I wasn't sure where..." I was going to say 'I wasn't sure where to meet,' but stopped in mid sentence, afraid he wouldn't understand me. "My ASL is rusty. Um... uh... I... I love... love your shirt."
Damn, I sounded like a scared, nervous teenager, but impressed with myself that I remembered some ASL.
"You love my shirt?" he responded with a smile.
"Yes, it's great," I signed. I traced the bottom of his shirt, admiring the silky material. His pale cheeks turned pink.
"You hungry? Come on," he said, placing a hand on the center of my back, leading me off the pier. The slightest touch turned me on. "Do you like lobster or fried clams? No, you don't look like you eat anything fried."
"I love fried clams," I said as we walked. "But I think I'm in the mood for lobster."
"Look at me when you talk. Maybe I'll understand you. Maybe I won't and that's okay. I brought a pen and paper just in case. I haven't been out with a hearing guy in a long time. I'm out of practice."
Despite the long line at one of the most popular restaurants in Provincetown, Josh got us in because of his connections. His family sold fish to most of the local restaurants. We sat at a table outside overlooking the ocean. I had two breathtaking views in front of me: the ocean and Josh.
On the table, Josh placed a small notepad and pen. "I don't expect you to remember ASL," he said. "I know it's been a long time."
"I'll try," I signed.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, signing.
"Okay. You?"
"Fine." He said something else, but I didn't understand him. Realizing I didn't understand, he combined spoken words with sign language. "I wasn't sure if you'd show up. You had no idea it was me, did you?"
I shook my head.
"I didn't know it was you, either, until after we fucked." He signed the word fucked, a word I remembered well.
"I was drunk and high."
"Yeah, I figured that when you almost passed out. It took three of us to get you into my apartment. I didn't know your address in Chatham. What'd you take, anyway?"
"Ecstasy, I assume."
"Ecstasy you assume? Never assume."
Nodding, I rolled my eyes, bringing a glass of water to my lips. Never a beer drinker, I ordered a bottle of wine. Josh, too, preferred wine.
"Order whatever you want," I said. "I'm paying. It's the least I can do for making you and two other guys drag me up three flights of stairs."
Josh smiled. I suspected he had no idea what I said.
Over lobster (my first of the season), we made small talk, avoiding discussing our last two encounters together—last night and the one back in high school.
Josh talked about college, teaching, and how much he loved his job. I wished I had a job to love. This summer, he worked alongside his dad and brothers on their fishing boat, taking a break from teaching summer school. He rented the studio apartment because he couldn't stand living with his homophobic grandfather who now lived with his dad in his childhood home.
Although I mentioned college, I didn't divulge any information about my mental health problems and being kicked out of law school. I didn't know Josh well enough to discuss my mental health issues. To avoid discussing employment, I merely said I was 'in between jobs,' which was partly true. Right now I relied on Mommy and Daddy until I figured things out, which was the point of me coming to Chatham. Josh threw a wrench in my plans.
"Do you still write?" he asked.
"Yes. Well, when I feel like it."
I hadn't written anything worthwhile in a long time. Maybe Josh would inspire me again.
"I kept all your poems," he said. "You were always talented. I hate talking. I haven't talked this much in a long time. Gramps would love it if I talked. I bet I sound stupid. Do I sound stupid?"
"No," I said. "I like your voice."
Because he didn't become deaf until he was fourteen, his speech was only slightly off. An average person would never know he was deaf.
"I'd be happy to teach you ASL again, although you're not doing too bad."
"Cool."
After dinner, Josh and I went for a walk along a nearby beach, admiring the way the setting sun glinted off the waves.
Josh was as sweet as I remembered him. As we walked, he brought his arm around my waist, holding me close. We never spoke of that day after the football game, the day that ended our relationship and outed me to the world—all thanks to Josh's loose tongue. That day seemed like an eternity ago. It didn't make sense to bring it up. I wanted to savor the beautiful summer night, feeling the warm ocean breeze as I walked along the shore with this beautiful man, grateful to be alive.
"You're so beautiful," I said, staring straight ahead.
"Huh?"
"Nothing," I signed.
"I swear you said something. Look at me when you speak."
"Sorry."
We stopped walking and faced each other. "Were you drunk last night?" I asked.
"No, not drunk," he replied. "A little high, though. It was incredible."
"Yeah, but you were high."
"Well, I had fun. Did you have fun? Do you remember anything?"
"Yes," I said. "I remember."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes. Why do you think I didn't enjoy it?"
"It's just... well... you cried... after. No guy ever cried on me before. When I held your face and looked into your eyes... that's when I realized it was you. That's when it all made sense."
"Oh, God," I muttered, looking down and away. He reached over and held my chin, lifting it up.
"Maybe you were so overcome with joy and passion you couldn't help yourself," he half-joked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
But there was an element of truth in his comment. I hadn't experienced joy in such a long time, it's possible I broke down in happy tears. Too bad I blacked out. I didn't know how to respond. Instead, Josh changed the subject again. "There's a great Portuguese bakery downtown. I'd love to buy you breakfast tomorrow morning, then give you a refresher course in ASL."
Great idea!!!
"Yeah, I'd like that," I said.
I really wanted to go back to his apartment with him, but I sensed that wouldn't happen tonight. He only got two hours of sleep last night. "I'm getting kinda tired. You got to sleep all day. I've been up since eight, and I was already late for work. I'll meet you at the Pilgrim Monument tomorrow morning at nine?"
"Yeah, nine."
As Josh walked me to the pier, I stopped and stepped in front of him. I held his shoulders and kissed his mouth. I'd been thinking about kissing him all night.
"Wow," he said. "You kiss just as good sober." Smiling, he hooked his arm around mine, leading me toward the parking lot. At my car, he pushed me against the door, kissing me hard on my mouth. His eyes met mine as he slowly pulled away. "See you tomorrow."
I looked forward to it.