MAIN CHARACTER 👆🏾
KHALIL💕
After my last class, I-- for the first time-- dreaded going to see Coach.
"Hi, Khalil, pull up a chair." He said somewhat cheerfully, then paused as if he didn't know where to go from there. "Um... Khalil, I... I'm curious, and don't want to get, personal, but..." He paused, and decided to forge ahead,
"Cole seemed very agitated when he asked to be assigned a different tutor. I just don't understand what could have happened, after the way things started with you guys. Friday, he told me how much he was enjoying working with you, then he didn't come to school Monday; and, like you, he never misses school."
I glanced up at this information, trying to picture Cole home alone and what he was doing. Was he upset? Miserable? Was he missing me? Fat chance.
"But on Tuesday, he came to me and seemed so, upset, so, well, disoriented. I asked him what the problem was, but he wouldn't talk at all." He paused and I glanced into his eyes, then up at the Martin Luther King poster and those damn quotes
"So, can you tell me what happened? I know you liked him a lot... A whole lot. My eyes darted to his and my mouth hung open. Was he insinuating what I thought he was insinuating? I couldn't speak. I'm sure the look on my face was idiotic, mixed with pain.
"And I know he liked you a lot." He looked into my eyes and I was just frozen.
"I, want you to know..." He was trying to be delicate, "Um, Khalil, I think I understand how you felt about Cole, and want you to know that I think he felt the same about you, from everything he said to me on Friday." He held my gaze and seemed to be trying to say much more with his eyes than he could say with his mouth.
I grinned with embarrassment and just about fell out of my chair. I held the edge of the desk for support. I couldn't believe my favorite teacher in the world was telling me he was aware of what Cole and I were beginning to feel for each other last week-- and in a very positive tone of voice!
"But, obviously something happened over the weekend, and he misses one day and you miss four; not to mention you looking like death-warmed-over when you come back."
I just hung my head down as far as I could let it fall. Tears were starting to build and I focused all my mental abilities on not crying-- I couldn't very well slug myself in the stomach in front of Coach.
"I just... Khalil, I want you to know that I care about you. You're one of my very favorite students, and you can talk to me. I, think I understand what you're feeling."
My head shot up and my eyes were laced with tears. I was dumbfounded and totally in a state of shock. He kept his eyes trained on mine. I got such a sense of caring and empathy from him, but was so blown away by this conversation that I couldn't process it all. I really don't know what my facial expression was at the time.
"I'm, skating on very thin ice here, Khalil, but I see a lot of confusion and pain in you right now, and I suspect you have no one to talk to about everything."
He looked deep in thought for a minute, then wrote on a notepaper. "Look, here's my phone number. You do understand that I'm not... That I only want to be a friendly listening ear for you. I just want to be very clear that I'm not... in the same situation as you are." He spoke in hushed tones. "But I understand how isolated you must feel, especially out here in the suburbs. So if you want someone to talk to, give me a call, anytime,Khalil."
I just stared into his eyes with my mouth open and tears wandering down my cheeks. It looked like my silence was making him reconsider having just told me all this-- his gaze was faltering. I was aware of what a risk he'd just taken, getting personally involved with a student, and in such a potentially explosive matter. To help me. I had to say something to let him know that he hadn't made the wrong move,
"Thank you so much, Coach. Thank you so much. I... I want you to know how good it makes me feel to know you care and understand. And I want you to know I would never betray your trust."
I saw the relief flow over him and felt good about that. "I really appreciate this Coach, but I'm a little too... I'm just too messed up about this to be able to talk about it right now. Maybe later?"
"Sure, Khalil, anytime at all, ok?" He was so nice. I smiled at him with real gratitude, and a warm feeling in my gut.
"Thank you."
I stood up and leaned toward him and hugged his shoulders, which kind of surprised him, but he genuinely returned the purely platonic hug.
"See ya later. Thanks." And I left.
I was freaking out on how he was so easily able to spot my love and lust for Cole, how he thought he saw it in Cole as well, and how he was apparently totally cool with it all.
I was reeling from the impact of how, in a matter of days, three adults-- all heterosexuals-- liked me, fully accepted me and wanted to help me, when I needed it most. Maybe the straight world wasn't so completely full of hate and fear as I thought it was. I had a lot to think about.
The weekend was very rough for me, and the next school week wasn't much better. I only saw Cole a few times, and on most of those occasions, he either didn't see me, or acted like he didn't. Twice we came face to face, within feet of each other. Not a word was said, and the first time he was expressionless, but the second time, he actually tossed me a little, civil smile.
I don't think I managed to smile back, but I didn't cry or anything dramatic; which I felt was progress. On Wednesday, we were all forced to go to a pep rally and watch the basketball team show off.
I sat up in the very back row of the gym bleachers, where all the stoners and freaks sat, and prayed Cole would never look my way. He did, once. He was standing in line with the team, facing me. He looked right at me and I looked at him. Then he had to move with the team and never looked my way again.
That first week back, I was trying hard to think of things like schoolwork, and even college. I kept trying to keep Rachel's words in mind and picture life out in the real world. I began to think maybe I'd like to take a year off from academics and try working and maybe see if I could move into Atlanta.
Many people said that Atlanta was like "Black Hollywood" and they also would say that it was the "City Of Gays" and the economy was booming, and jobs were everywhere. There were a thousand people a week moving into the City Of Gays . It seemed like utopia to me, the lure of anonymity, and the lure of all the possibilities, of finding others "like me."
At night, just before I fell asleep, it was still the same thing every time: Cole dominated all my thoughts. Yeah, I cried some, but not every time. I wasn't particularly horny most nights, but I felt like I should be, like maybe it would be a sign that I was coming out of this.
I found I couldn't fantasize about anyone else, but I couldn't develop a good fantasy about Cole either. No matter what I got started, it would always come down to "I don't love you." "It never happened." and all I could see were his eyes, with that chilling stare of anger.
I noticed I was getting a bad attitude about school. Ciarra was wrapped up in her own little world and I saw very little of her. I wasn't good company when I did see her. I finally just decided she wasn't a friendship worth pursuing.
I didn't want to be at school, and didn't really care about my studies. I didn't really care about much of anything. I had no desire to go anywhere in particular, so I often just drove around aimlessly in the evenings, to Seabrook and Kemah, or up the bay to La Porte.
Mom and Dad were vigilant, trying to get me interested in things they came up with, trying to get me to talk, but their efforts actually drove me deeper into my shell. I even overheard them talking about shrinks, wondering if they could afford one. I just didn't care enough to pay attention.
A week later on Friday, after eating a little bit of my lunch, I had an urge to get away from school for a little while, so I headed to my car. As I approached it, I saw a dread head leaning against the driver side fender, smoking a blunt. The school had minimum security in designated areas so it wasn't like he was sneaking around.
I got a strange feeling about him-- looking at him before he noticed me-- as I got closer. I couldn't tell what the feeling was-- familiarity? I must have seen him around school before. But the feeling seemed stronger than that. I figured it was just because he was leaning against my new car.
He was so sexy, he just looked like he belonged with the Mercedes, like it had included him as an option: "Bucket seats and a gorgeous dread head, with zero percent interest for six months OAC(On Approved Credit)!"
He had long wavy dreads, thrown in a messy bun in the back of his head, he had a set of deep dark brown eyes. I was sure I would have remembered him if I'd met him or seen him before. He was, I guessed, six feet tall, tightly muscled and lean, but not thick like me.
The crisp breeze plastered his black shirt to his flat stomach and naturally perfect pecs, and his hair danced in the sunlight behind him. He wore tight, sagging black Levi's, nicely faded and worn in the right places.
About ten feet away, I slowed to a stop. I tried to think of how to tell him to get off my car without causing a confrontation. He looked at me, wondering what I was doing. I pulled the keys out of my pocket, and started again toward the car. He snapped then, that it was my car he was leaning on.
"This yo car?" He smiled and stood.
"Uh, yeah." I was my usual awkward self, and wouldn't look him in the eye
I had to kind of squeeze between him and Cole's car, brushing past his...... you know.
"Nice car! I was just lookin' it over. Yeah. Thats wassup. And two, side by side!" he gestured at Cole's Car, than mine. "But I like the paint job on yours better." he was suave.
I paused, with my hand on the handle, "Yeah, I just got it a couple of weeks ago." I looked directly into his startling brown eyes.
"Foreal?! Man, I wouldn't be hangin' around here if I just got somthin like this! I'd be on my fuckin' way to somewhere nice, sunroof open, smokin' a blunt, crankin' tha music up . Life would be great!" he smiled and patted the hood.
"You would, huh?" I suddenly found the idea intriguing.
"Hell yeah, cruisin' the Seawall, Blazin!" He turned wasted into a whole new, and desirable, word
"I just might do that." I stated matter-of-factly, and grinned back at him.
He looked me over, trying to judge just how much he could influence me to let him party on my largess-- at least that's how I figured it at the time.
"Well, you got the whip, and I got the weed. Sounds like we got what we need !" He smiled, trying to sweep me up in his idea of a good time. I guess he just assumed that if I drove a car like this, I must get high.
Other students were going to their cars and leaving for the second lunch, which overlapped the first and third lunch periods. He was giving me that 'Well, how about it?' look, and I thought: 'What the hell? I should live a little. I've never been to the beach without my parents. I turn eighteen on Monday, for Christ's sake! I need a change of scenery. I've been wanting to do something different, something to make me feel alive.
He seems nice, not too hype and he's really good looking-- uh-uh, thinking with my dick again! Just try to make a friend.'
"Fuck it! Why not? I got a full tank of gas, let's go!" My adrenaline was flowing, and I felt so daring.
"Hell yeah!" he yelled as he ran around to the passenger side. I got in and unlocked his door. He hopped in and extended his hand, "Hi, I'm Ty. Tyson Harmon." I smiled, and met his handshake in the middle, which I awkwardly pulled off.
"I'm Khalil , and you can call me 'His Holiness With Mercedes."
He laughed and bowed his head, letting a few stands of his dreaded hair fall across his face. I cranked up the engine and opened the windows & sunroof. It was a beautiful day, warm, but not hot. I turned up the radio even louder than it already was.
"where's the aux cord, Your Holiness?"He yelled over the peak of a song that came on the radio.
" I don't have that yet."
"Oh, Here, pull around to A building, and I'll get my backpack out of my locker." I turned the music down to hear him
"Cool!" I backed out, then burned a little rubber taking off.I glowed with being able to show off, grin splitting my ears. This was going to be fun! Every time I'd been to the beach, I'd been envious of the guys my age cruising the Seawall in their cars, loaded with friends, blasting their stereos, whooping and carrying on as if having fun was their natural God-given right. Isn't it in the Constitution? Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Fun?
He ran into the school and ran back out with his backpack in hand. He then jumping into my already rolling car.
In minutes, we were on I-45 southbound to Galveston.
As soon as we got going, Ty started rolling a fat blunt he pulled out of a baggie he had in his sock.
He popped in "lul uzi" and we theatrically sung to song, finishing the blunt, nodding our heads vigorously to the beat. I felt more alive than I had since, forever. By the time we had finally got to the beach, my smile had turned into a full tooth grin.
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We got out and walked along the lightly populated beach, Ty commenting that there were no women to be found, me agreeing. It was mostly frumpy housewives with their screaming kids playing in the surf, the occasional husband trying to figure out if he was supposed to be having a good time, trying to find sports stations on their radios.
As we walked, Ty made several comments about women. It was odd, the way he said them, because it didn't seem like he was really trying to get me to agree when he'd point out a decent looking one; though that's what I would think two straight guys would be doing: sizing the women up, and scoring them one to ten, or something like that.
I found it uncomfortable, trying to act like I was into it-- cuz I just wasn't-- and I wasn't good at pretending to be. I hadn't had any practice.
"Man, it just feels so good to be out in the breeze, on the beach, and not in school." I said.
"Yeah it does. Ever been to Hippy Hollow, the nude beach on Lake Travis, up by Austin? I love walkin' around 'nekkid', dick and balls floppin' around in the breeze. I wanna go back there."
"Nah, I don't know if I could do that."
"Why?"
I blushed, "Well, I'm afraid I'd get a hard on, for one thing."
"So? Most guys do, at least at first-- I always do. It's ok, cuz everyone kind of expects that.
"Really?" I pictured him, and a bunch of other guys, walking along naked with erections, and started filling out my Jeans. "And it's not embarrassing to you?"
"No. Hard-ons are natural and beautiful. It's good to be a guy!" We both laughed and I agreed. Ty slowed down and started taking off his shirt as he walked, revealing the front of his sagging pants showing his beautifully browned mid-section.
I was strangely unconcerned whether anybody noticed me staring at him as he did a sexy, slow walking striptease of taking off his shirt in the afternoon ocean breeze, nipples all hard...
"You gonna get naked right here and now?" I asked, almost hopefully.
"What, and give all these housewives something to take back to there book club?" He laughed.
"Why not?" I giggled.
"Get me fucked up enough and I would!" He twirled his shirt in the air over his head, and reached down and undid his jean button.
"You're not gonna do it. I dare ya!" I teased, encouraging him all I could; plus, it gave me an excuse to look directly at his crotch as we walked.
He pulled his zipper down, revealing he wore red boxer briefs. The sight of his big bulge and flat abdomen was enough to make me have to put my hands in my pockets to hide my arousal. It was a thrill to me. To walk along this straight public beach and be so daring-- even though Ty was the one being daring.
"I'll do it if you will!" He challenged me. I laughed and blushed.
"I would, except I KNOW I'd get a hard on! Not to mention arrested."
"Yeah, these straight people are so uptight."
I had to think about that, with all kinds of images of him naked on the beach flashing around in my head. I was sure he meant 'straight' as in 'don't get high', not as in 'heterosexual'. But it still gave me something to fantasize about.
We climbed the steps to Christy's Beachcomber. I gave him the money to buy us a way overpriced burger and greasy fries and a couple of bourbon and cokes, which he presented his fake ID for. Then we both sat on the nearly deserted deck for awhile, finishing our drinks and food.
"Hey, Khalil, some of my niggas only live a few blocks from the Moody Hotel down there. He deals and he's always got a party goin' on! Wanna check it out?"
"Ohh ok, why not?" I was getting a little bored and a party honestly sounded good. He put his shirt back on and we drove to the street he indicated. About six blocks inland, he leaned out the window, gesturing,
"There it is! With that silver van in the driveway!" He pointed excitedly at a dilapidated, large Victorian house on the corner, painted a hideous yellow with brown trim. You could tell it had once been a beautiful home.
Besides the van, there were at least five other cars parked around the place, in the yard, everywhere. We parked across the street. Walking through the trashed out yard we had to skip the broken out second step. through the porch walls we heard loud music. It wasn't like anything I'd heard before.
Ty knocked on the door. No answer. He knocked louder and we waited. Finally someone opened the door about an inch.
"Who are y'all?"
"I'm Ty, and this is Khalil. Are Jet and Celia here?"
"Yeah, c'mon in," he opened the door even wider. Revealing his very large muscular frame.
As soon as the door opened the music flooded the both of us.
We followed the large, dreaded guy, who we later learned was named Mickey-- which just didn't seem to fit him-- through the grand foyer, and into a dark room, illuminated with purple LED lights, slow blink.
Eight or nine people were lounging around on large crash pads and several beanbag chairs, arranged in a circle around, open floor in the middle. They were passing a bong around, and a guy and a girl were doing a very erotic dance in the middle of the circle.
Four huge speakers were suspended from the ceiling in each corner, aiming down on the large room, with an elaborate, quadraphonic stereo system near the closet.
Mickey instructed us to take our shoes off, so we did-- everybody had they shoes off to.
I felt like I'd been transported back to 1968, in Haight-Ashbury or something. The walls were painted in all kinds of day glow psychedelic designs and slogans, and everyone seemed pleasantly mystified. I kinda liked the 'vibe' of it all.
Ty spoke in my ear, "This room wasn't done up like this last time I was here. I kinda like this better!" He stepped over a beanbag. On top of the beanbag was a guy who looked like a chunky Tyga-- wearing a black shirt saying good vibes only.
While Ty walked through the group of people I was going around behind them, so I could stay close to Ty without having to step over people. I was definitely not in my element here, and needed the security of being near him, even if I didn't know him well.
Ty squatted down next to the Tyga look alike and said something to him that I couldn't hear. The guy raised his head and looked at Ty strangely, then, gradually, a smile spread across his face,
"Oh, shit! Ty! Where you been? Beautiful, man, have a seat, have a microdot, enjoy," he motioned serenely around the room.
Ty spoke up "Good to see you too Jet! I Like what you've done with the room! So what did you say about those microdots?"
"Endless supply man, here." Jet fished a black Ziplock bag out from beneath him and gave it to Ty. After doing this Tyga layed back down, not even watching to see what Ty did with it.
Ty opened it and very carefully, let two of the tiny pellets roll into his palm. He stretched his empty hand out towards me and asked, "You got a 10?"
"Um, yeah, I guess. What's that?" I was wary, assuming it was some kind of drug, but took do my wallet out anyway.
"Molly."
"I've never done drugs before. I don't really think I wanna try it right now. For one thing, I gotta drive."
He laughed a little "That's straight. But can ya still spot me the 20 dollars, I promise I'll pay ya back later?"
I nodded a little and passed him the 10 dollars. Just then, a pretty, dark haired girl in her twenties, who had thick long spiraling curls came behind Tyson and tapped him on the shoulder "Tyson! I haven't seen you in so long, baby!" She spread her arms wide. When Tyson saw who it was he twisted and hugged her.
"Celia! Oh, man, it's been like, too long!" They exchanged a hug, "What's been going on with you?"
"Chillin'! Now that Jet's makin' moves, this place is ' mellow all the time. Who's your friend?"
"Oh, this my freind Khalil, he cool. Khalil, this is Celia."
"Hi." I said, smiling
She reached over Ty's back and gave me a big hug, pulling me against her rather large breasts. Then she held me at arms length and looked at my face in the purple light. She furrowed her brow. "Oh what a drag, you poor soul. You've had your heart broken and slipped over the edge. Come into the circle with me."
She took me by the hand and pulled me away from Ty and the beanbag, into the middle of the room, before I could react in shock to what she said. The couple that had been dancing had sat down and were smooching.
She wrapped her arms around me and started us moving in a slow dance of sorts. She saw my shock and smiled a smile that would melt ice cream in Alaska.
"Let me take that hurt out of you for a little while. Just flow with me."
About then, as if on cue, the music segued smoothly into an extended version of Rihanna's and Wale Bad remix and we danced swiftly to the uplifting chorus. I got carried away with a feeling I'd never experienced before
Is it bad that I never made love, no I never did it
But I sure know how to fuck I'll be your
Bad girl, I'll prove it to you
Can't promise that, I'll be good to you
'Cause I had some issues
Even as I continued to dance I kept thinking: 'Is she a black gypsy? Like, a really good one? Is she clairvoyant? How can she tell my heart is broken? But hey! I'm thinking about it right now, about him, and I'm not sad.
Ty joined us in the center of the room, about halfway through the mix. He moved in beside us and joined hugging us, his left arm around my shoulder, right arm around Celia, dancing with us, he was rapping Wale part while me and Celia was singing Rihanna.
As we all danced in the circle with the slow purple light cutting threw the haze of smoke I got a heightened sense of warmth, or heat, from Ty's arm and hip pressing against mine. I got a different energy altogether from Celia, a very-- I guess the only accurate word would be-- 'loving' energy. I know that sounds corny, but there was just something different about her.
Ty dug the second tiny pellet out of his shirt pocket with his right hand, and held it on the side of his index fingertip in front of my mouth, smiling, as the song changed. I looked down at it and thought, 'So tiny! How could that miniscule, pinhead size thing that looks like candy, make you "See God" as they say?'
Celia looked at me and said "This batch is a really mellow trip. Jet makes this himself, and he's college trained. He knows exactly what he's doing and he doesn't add all that extra shit. So no harm, Khalil."
The three of us slowed to a stop, still hugging, Ty's finger still hovering near my mouth.
"I've never done this before. I'm not sure I wanna try it."
"Oh, that's cool. You definitely should NOT try this, unless you're really wanting to experience it. That's totally cool!" Celia beamed.
Ty drew my gaze, adding, "The thing is, if you ever wanted to try it, this is like, a good place to do it, and a good time, with awesome, for real people like Celia and Jet. She's Jet's old lady, and Khalil, this woman is fuckin' special."
"Ty, you're making me shy. I'm right here, ya know." We all smiled.
"Hey, why Not now?" I asked rhetorically.
Ty said, "Hell yeah! I knew you wanted to! This is gonna be amazing! Open up and say ahhh."
I opened my mouth and held out my tongue. I looked Ty in the eyes as he brought his index finger over, brushing my upper lip, sending chills down my spine. He went very slowly about laying it on my tongue, pressing softly down, glancing from my eyes to my tongue and back to my eyes.
His eyes shone in the light, flashing with the strobe behind me, as he rolled his thick finger over in slow motion, pressing the tiny pill onto the middle of my tongue.
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