Striking out

Oh, man, I am so ready for summer to start.

I am going to be working with this guy(well, not just any guy!)----and ahh! I like him sooooo much. He is so cute and sweet and he makes me feel so good.

I literally am freaking out, though. I have known him for...like...forever.

I watched that same adorable video above like a zillion-billion-trillion times, thinking of dancing like that with him(and maybe kissing him too). And also, I really love South Park(and all the characters, especially Kenny, Kyle, Stan and Butters---well, Craig and Tweek, too!). It is my favorite show ever. Trent loves it too(that's the guy who is my bestie and who I really like!). We watch it together all the time at his house. We also play that game the Fractured But Whole on his PS4.

We kinda have that relationship already, he's zany and off the wall, kind pervy, lol.

I am kinda innocent... well, mostly.

Well, anyway, we are both almost eighteen and I know what I am doing for his Birthday!

Surprise party with all of our friends, and then hopefully, I can work up the guts to tell him how I feel.

He literally reminds me of Kenny from South Park too. He has this cute blonde hair and has these deep, gorgeous blue eyes.

I am a blonde, too. But a dirty blonde, and I keep it surfer-dude, California long. Which is dumb cause I live in Missouri.

I have these green eyes that my mom goes ga-ga for, and says I have to find a lovely girlfriend this summer.

Aha! Mom, you'll never guess....but....

I AM GAY.

Hah! I betcha never saw that one coming, huh? ugh.

I need to come out first, though.

Maybe I should tell that to Trent first....

Okay, Clay, keep it together!

I take in several deep breaths as I arrive at high school and see Trent in his black jeans, spiked blonde hair and Nirvana tee shirt.

He is texting on his phone but he looks up at me and waves with a smile that melts my very soul----and I go over to him and I feel my heart racing.

I feel a bit dorky next to him. I am wearing a button up tee shirt from Old fucking Navy that my mom picked out for me and regular faded blue jeans.

"Hey, Clay, you asshole, I texted you last night. What the hell... you ignoring me?" Trent said as he looked at his phone.

I smiled nervously. "No, dude. I fell asleep."

"Clarissa said we were meeting at the...uh, fuck, what's it called?" Trent got up and put his phone in his pocket. "At the meeting place by the lake this Saturday. She said there is going to be a party we can go to... her cousin's friend is throwing it."

"It is called Creve Coeur Lake, man," I said as I rolled my eyes. "It means broken heart in French. Lemme guess, you don't care?" I said and Trent laughed.

"Nope," Trent said as we went into school.

"Well, you've only lived here your whole life and you don't know the name of the lake we always go to?"

"Well, that's why you are here. To help me remember shit. You know I smoke too much bud, man. Fuck. Get off my back."

I rolled my eyes again. "What will you do after graduation?" I was worried about him.

"No, mom, I am not going into this with you again." Trent said sarcastically, but he looked at me suddenly with a look that said desperation and almost a bit of concern as well.

I walked with him over to his locker and he opened it, closing it---and we looked at each other quietly for a moment.

"What'll you do, Clay?" He gives me this ultra serious stare, and shrug a little, but inside I’m screaming.

Ok, I’m also really, really dramatic too, so take what I say with a grain of salt. Or a lot of salt idgaf.

Still, I wasn't expecting that, but still I answered, "I wanna be a doctor."

Trent nodded in affirmation of my response. "That is pretty dope. I know you’ve told me that before.”

"Thanks." I nervously messed with my dirty blonde long hair, and said, "Hey, I gotta... shit..”

“You gotta what?” He looks at me like I’m a weirdo.

I laugh with a snicker. “No! I meant… I gotta talk to you later.”

“Oup! Okay. I’ll see you after school. We’ll smoke… I mean, I’ll smoke.. and chat.” He cleared his throat and snapped his fingers smoothly at me and threw finger guns toward my mouth… and I nodded but quickly turned around, feeling my whole face grow hot. I’m glad he acknowledged I don’t smoke cigarettes.

But… What the hell did all that mean?!

That felt flirty.

Oh well.

I go to class and check in with a couple of my friends, Freddy, John and Cass for my History class.

“Hey, so we on for bowling tonight?” Freddy said, his feet on my desk. I shoo his nasty mud filled shoes away, and nod.

We always go bowling once or twice a week after school, we are all pretty good. I usually bowl a 180, Trent 210. One time, Trent bowled a 260! Cass is also amazing, bowling at a 220 usually or higher. Clarissa, Freddy and John are hilariously bad at bowling, but are not bad sports. They are just fun to be around and cool people.

“Will Trent go?” Cass asked me.

“I believe so. I didn’t ask,” I answer, still wary about how I will approach the conversation tonight.

John made a little soft whistling sound. “Do you all wanna go split-zee on some nachos this time or is everyone broke again? Cause I’m not eating all by myself.”

Cass laughed with sputter, “All you ever do is think of food!”

Freddy got up and acted like he was going to punch John in the stomach, “And ya got flat abs too? You freak! How do you eat so much and stay like that?”

“Shut up!” John said, his cheeks going red.

“Yeah. Clarissa loves it, I’m sure!” Freddy teased. “Like making out with a wash board.”

We all laughed, except John.

“Clarissa is a classy lady, but I expect you wouldn’t know anything about that. Right, you slag?” John countered to Freddy.

“Stop trying to use British slang, you are from the Midwest!” I say and Cass nods vigorously. He ignores me and her.

“Yeah, Fred!” She says. “You got the slang wrong too. That means a promiscuous woman!” She laughs with her hand over her mouth.

Freddy looked faux-astonished and growled, “Why, Johnny baby, you must know I’m not offended by that—-I’m a pretty classy lady myself. I only put out on the second date. Third, if they don’t buy me dinner!” Freddy said saucily, and even swung his hip out a little to accentuate his point.

This time, we all laughed and then the bell rang.

The rest of the day went by quickly.

I kept picturing Trent all day in my head and how he’ll react to the news of me being gay. How he’d react to me saying I like him. I think he’ll either shrug it off or laugh, or just be like, “idc you’re my friend, whateve.”

He is a bit of a non-emotional kind of guy—-very indirect. More than Kenny from South Park, he really reminds me more of Spike Spiegel from my all-time favorite show Cowboy Bebop.

He doesn’t really like to be all touchy feely with others and usually if someone likes him, he pushes them away.

He also kind of looks like him, expect Trent has spiked, slightly shorter blonde hair.

Very hot. Right??!

Anyway, by the time we are in home room and school is almost out, Trent is in there and he’s sketching out some cool little comics.

He’d always draw panels when he was bored, and sometimes make all of us—our whole group of friends, into South Park characters, and create hysterical little nonsense stories. And he even drew Mecha-Streisand once!

He gave me a few of his “doodles”, and I cherish them.

He should be an artist—I have seen his other stuff and dang! He is good. He made this street art once that blew my mind and it was of an angel that was luminous and glowing, and looked almost three dimensional… oh shit, I think I’m falling for this guy!

He catches me staring and I act like it’s about his drawings.

He shows me and it’s an amalgam of stuff: a drawing of Uma Thurman in a bikini(he has the hots for her) and she’s winking for God’s sakes…. And a couple of panels of a cartoon.

It’s of us as South Park characters bowling impossible shots. He always drew my character with hair that was even longer than I had in real life, which made everyone confused if I was a girl or not. Everyone would tease Trent that he thought of me as a girl——I wouldn’t comment as it didn’t bother me.

Titled: 4-6-7-9-10 split or Greek Church

He drew the pins and the bowling ball—I don’t have the drawing, but here is a reference for others who don’t know what it is:

We are all just trying to figure out ways to create these impossible shots so we can impress each other and finish it off—-with preposterous results. Every time there was a crazy, impossible shot, whenever one of us would try to make it, something would explode or there would be a robot coming in to stop us.

It was too funny, and I had to stop myself from falling on the floor from laughing so hard.

The teacher made us go onto opposite sides of the room, which made us break out into hysterics every time we even so much as looked at each other—-then we were sent into the hallway, which made us free to scream with our jovial childishness.

It helped me to chill out a bit, and when school was out, I texted my mom that I was going out with Trent and some friends bowling later, and I’d have dinner late.

She texted me back: Make sure you come home to have enough time to study! Love you. Be safe!

I texted her back: Okay, thanks! Love you, too.

We drove near Creve Coeur Park(in his car as I didn’t have one yet, just my drivers license), and opened the windows, parking near the beach and lake.

“You wanna see the Dripping Springs?” I asked.

“Nah.” He lit up a Cigarette and it smelled of menthol. “Well… maybe. Is it that shit about the Indian girl who died?”

I gave him a discontented look.

“What?” He said, blowing smoke out of the window. “Isn’t that it?”

“You are so crude.”

He blew a raspberry at me. “Well, all I know is the girl was sad cause of some dude and died falling off the rocks… or something. And the springs don’t fall like they used to over the rocks, they only drip. Like… tears or some shit.”

We were parked nearby the Dripping springs and I looked over, reading the sign.

He was right, I thought with wide eyes.

“My moms told us about it. She loves that sad shit,” He said with a sigh. “I should draw something about her. Like her tears or something. Like a metaphor… I don’t know.”

I smiled, and nodded. “That sounds awesome.”

“I might draft it up tonight.”

“You should sell your stuff man, you’d make some serious bread,” I said with a grin.

“Nah, I ain’t about to try to be the next Banksy, but thanks,” he said softly and we were quiet while he finished his cigarette.

“Anyway,” Trent said finally, putting on the radio for a minute, but on low volume. “What’d you wanna talk about, dude?”

“Uh. Nothing.”

“Fuck that. Don’t be a jerk. Just tell me.”

I felt myself closing in, and freaking out. What was that thing people ALWAYS said?

Don’t fall in love with your best friend whom you know for over ten years!

He looks at me suddenly and it’s different.

It looks caring.

“Listen, Clay, just… just spill it. I don’t fucking… you know I’m just chill here.”

I wanna tell him, that’s the problem… you are always just “chill here,” but I don’t. I really don’t mind it—- to me, he’s wonderful. Not perfect, just right.

I decide to just say it. No frills, no speech.

I start to speak when Trent talks over me.

“I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me!” He says suddenly, his hand over his face.

“What? What’s wrong?” I say, my face flushed.

“Fuck.” He sighed heavily. “Uh… Clay…”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m lost. We are about to graduate and I have no idea what I’m doing. I feel like I’m dying inside a little each day… and all the while, everyone else is like happy and cheery. Like they are so self assured of their future and of themselves.”

I blow out a little hot air, and look at his forlorn face, and it tears me up a little inside.

“I don’t think anyone of us really feel that confident. It’s a… life is really more of a trial and error type of thing. You find something that you really want… no… need to do… and you find a way to do it at all costs. Something…. You really are good at. Something you are passionate at,” I say, the words spilling from me, and I see Trent is listening to my every word like it’s a lifeline to his salvation.

“Like a destiny kind of thing?” Trent says after lighting another cigarette.

“Yeah. But you gotta help yourself get there. Kinda like that Greek Church thing. I read about it, actually. There was this article about statistics dating back to 2003 from the Professional Bowlers Association…”

“Shit, you are a dork!” He laughed, and I ignored him.

“Out of 447,000 frames in all just under 60 percent of these were strikes,” I said, trying to remember it correctly. “Obviously, the 7/10 split is one the hardest shots. But… the Greek Church… you have the lowest statistical opportunity to get it… by 0.2 percent of the time.”

“Yeah. But what about the 7/10?” He asked, clearly interested now.

“Um, for pros… it’s about 0.7 percent of a chance.” I sit up a bit more and take in a deep breath. “It’s not like people can’t do it. But… if you were meant to, you will.”

“Also, practicing and working on getting the shot too might help,” He said with a chuckle. “If I’m rich, one day, I will have a man cave with my own private bowling alley.”

“You could be a professional artist. Or you could try and just research different fields and careers until you find something you really like.”

“Now, you sound like the guidance counselor at school, man… mmmkay,” He said with a laugh. “Why don’t you become a mathematician since you like to spout statistics all day long, mmmkay?”

I laughed at his impression and nodded, noting his ironic tone. “Okay. I get it. I’ll chill out on the mom talk. But… one day, you’ll be at my Ted Talk and you’ll be sorry!”

He looked at me with a sarcastic smirk, and said, “In your dumb dreams!”

I rolled my eyes and said, “Just get your shit together, Dude. Better?”

“Marginally.” He put out his cigarette and suddenly looked at me with a relatively apologetic look. “Sorry, man. I just totally forgot…. You were about to tell me something and I just dumped on you. Sorry.”

“It’s not a problem. Okay. I’ll just tell you, Trent. You are literally the first one that will know this.” I take in a deep breath. “Look, it took me a while but I realized… I’m gay.”

Trent looks at me with a solemn, thoughtful expression and then patted my shoulder. “Cool.”

“Really? You’re not freaked out?” I say, my heart pounding.

“Nah. Remember Clarissa is bi? It’s not a big deal.” He grinned, “And I think Fred is a bit bi-curious, or something, I don’t even fucking know with him.”

I nodded, laughing. “Yeah. True.”

“Anyway…. Glad you told me.” He sat up and we locked eyes. “Are you telling your parents?”

“Soon. But… I don’t know how.”

Trent nodded. “Want me to be there? As a friend for support?”

I smile. “Maybe. I appreciate that.”

Trent smiled back. “No problem. That’s what besties are for.” He coughed a little, “Oh shit! I think I just choked on how mushy I was just being. Just slap me next time I act like that. Kay?” He said with a smirk, and I nod.

“Sure.”

“I might have to kick your ass back but at least it’ll even out everything,” he said offhandedly, and I shrugged, but chuckled anyway.

We both sighed and then of course he had to say, “Anything else you need to talk about?”

“No,” I say with a bit too much emphasis on it, and I know he thinks I’m lying.

“Shit. Don’t worry, man. Let’s go to see that spring or something. The guys will be here in a little bit.”

“Trent…” I started, my face heating up.

“Yeah, what up?” He said in a chill voice.

“Oh… crap. Oh, God.”

“Don’t Tweek out on me. You need some coffee?”

I laughed. “No, Craig.”

He laughed. “Dude, I’m Craig? That’s funny. And gay.”

I get out of the car and close it a little too loudly.

Trent follows, saying, “Dude?!”

I know my face is bright red now. We were literally pretending to be a gay couple on South Park… ugh…. That doesn’t help.

I walk over to the springs and lean against the bridge’s edge.

Trent runs up and says, “Ugh, man. Don’t make me chase you. I am not a runner.”

I laugh, and he sighs.

“I could’ve told you that,” I say finally, and we just stand there watching the springs for awhile. I get an eerily peaceful feeling standing there next to Trent—-even not saying anything, it’s calm and we are both at ease.

“Hey…. So… Clay?”

I bite my lip and look over at him and ask, “Yeah?” The silence broken by his query.

“Do you like anyone?”

The question was so quiet I could barely hear it—-but it was audible enough.

I blink in surprise by his question and shrug.

“No one?” He asks again, looking down at the ground.

I wasn’t about to spill my guts here… at a place where someone died because of a broken heart. How cliche would that be?

“Uh, yeah. I don’t know what to say to them though.”

He smiles sadly. “Why don’t you just tell them? Is it a guy from school?”

“Yeah,” I say quietly.

“Oh. Well… I’m sure they’ll like you. You know?”

“Sure. I guess.”

“Listen, I’m shitty at advice, even worse at compliments. But….” Suddenly, we locked eyes again. I thought it was a weird day for eye contact with him. “You are a good guy. You deserve someone good, too.”

I nod. “Thanks. But you’re right… you are bad compliments!” I shove him and he shoves me back.

“You gonna tell everyone? Today? No pressure or anything.”

I nod. “Yeah. I just wanted you to know first.”

“That’s gay,” he teases, and we both laugh.

“So… about your birthday coming up…” I say, “what do you want?”

He gives me this really strange look all of a sudden. It made me nervous—-but——I just thought maybe one of the guys (or girls) spilled that I was planning a surprise party for him.

“I’m… Uh… I was thinking I wanted…. You.”

I stood there for a whole minute like a statue. Did I really just hear that? What is going on? Is he playing a joke on me?

Is he teasing me?

“Clay, did you hear me?” Trent says, moving closer toward me with every word.

Oh—-yesIFuckingdid——holy shit!

“Are… are you fucking with me?” I asked, feeling like I was about to cry.

Trent looked a bit upset for a moment and then sighed. “No. I’m not.”

“But… aren’t you straigh-” I start to say, and he puts his hand on my shoulder.

“I don’t like labels. I’m not anything. But… when you just told me in the car that you were gay… it helped me realize these… things I’ve been thinking about. These things about you. I pushed it down for so long. So, for my birthday, I want you. Is that okay?”

“Are… are you sure?” I ask——not before he lands the most passionate and affectionate kiss right on my face—-and I chuckle a little. He missed my lips.

“Mmm—-Trent!” He moves away, his face tomato red.

“Shit!” He looks around, making sure no one saw. “Did… I just cross the line? I’m sorry!”

“No!” I say with a smile. “You just… kissed my face… like a slobbering dog… ahaha…. That was sweet.”

He looked so embarrassed, so I hugged him and kissed his cheek.

“I’m so stupid,” Trent said, defeatedly.

“No you aren’t. You beat the human equivalent of the Greek Church move… exposing your innermost self to someone without the guarantee of a payout.”

“What a strike! I missed our first kiss.” He says, looking down.

I smiled and leaned in, touching his face. “No… this is our first kiss…”

Gently, softly, I leaned toward his face and carefully placed a long, deep kiss to his lips——and I melted as I felt him move even closer in my arms. It was amazing and so wonderful to actually do this with him—-and I could feel it in his body language that he trusted me. And I trusted him.

Summer has now begun——but our love was more than just a summer fling—-he was a boyfriend who made things last—-being there for me as I told my parents and all of our friends, and in general, to be there for me during every strike and even every time I inevitability hit the gutters—-he was there to cheer me up and help me every time.

And I, for him.

Yes, he still draws funny stuff, but also serious stuff that is really good. He told game he wanted to be an animator and sent me this video as inspiration for it:

God, I love that man. The fact that he used that gorgeous video as inspiration… ahh! It’s amazing how sweet he really is. I’m crying.

So, now—-we have been together for a year and he’s at University to become an animator (also studying film and art) and I’m studying to become a pediatrician. We both work to support one another and really work together as a good team and couple.

We still bowl every week with our friends and we don’t actively look for that Greek Church moment anymore.

We found it.

We conquered it.

Together.