Table Scraps

I didn't want them to judge us.

I especially didn't want them to judge you.

I saw how the other kids looked at you, and laughed, and joked----how they carried on.

I didn't laugh. I didn't listen.

I went over to you, while you were sitting on the playground by yourself, by the poles and the swings, and I sat next to you.

We talked. And I got to know you, and you got to know me.

But I was tired, and I knew you were, too.

I always liked that episode of Hey Arnold---the Christmas one---where Helga and Arnold leave their chaotic homes abruptly during the celebrations (one for being too strange and one for being too estranged), and end up together. They always ended up together during the most important parts of their life. They did things for one another without even saying so, without the other even knowing who did it.

I wanted that.

I wanted that with you. Always.

But, I came from a house where I got table scraps. Literally and figuratively.

Especially during the holiday's.

My family didn't know how----didn't want to express themselves, so we all stayed away from togetherness and family time and giving----I got so used to it, that these concepts seemed trivial and almost dumb.

I grew up with this concept of masculinity, that my father instilled in me. Not through words. Through looks. Through actions.

Through stern, heavy----painful nothings.

Scraps became my emotional leavings on others.

Until you came along---and I saw your emotional fragility. The way you let your feelings out all the time, effortlessly---the way you let your tears flow, I envied you.

And when you hugged me on the last day of school---the way you held me so tight and said, "Thank you for being my only true friend, Noah," and I melted.

I lost all sense of who I was.

But it didn't scare me.

I felt like I was shedding all those things I secretly hated. The way I pushed everyone away. The way I kept my voice thin and empty.

The way I stayed away from my feelings at all costs.

Sure, I had friends.

But not like you, Layne.

You were someone important. I couldn't let you go out of my life.

I don't know if everyone knew, or if you could tell---but I started watching you.

Your movements, your expressions---everything.

Once we were in high school----I couldn't hide it anymore.

I was falling in love with you.

I would remember running over the bridge everyday to see you after school, in my dumb little Sonic the Hedgehog shirt, stained with juice and Spaghetti-O's... and we'd laugh and laugh and play games outside until it got so dark we'd both be worried how'd we get back home. But, I would always take you home first. To make sure you were safe.

We would play in the creeks and the forests nearby. You were so funny and sweet and creative, too. You would make up little stories to go with our games. I know I would pretend to hate them, rolling my eyes the whole time... but I didn't. I really loved them.

You'd ask me, "Why do you hang with me when you can play with anyone?"

I would shrug and toss rocks and pebbles in the creek spring. "Cause you're my friend. My real friend, anyway."

And we would sit there and just relax---sitting in the sun----not worrying about anything at all.

I miss those days.

Now, at the cusp of adulthood, we are closer than ever.

They all still judge us.

Judge you.

But, I stay by your side. I defend you.

You even defend me.

You are so tall and lanky now---your long blonde hair and your silky smooth skin, tanned by the sun---something I dream of now every night. Your green eyes sparkle as we bike together everyday to school and back home---and I so long to kiss you.

But I am so scared.

This time, of you judging me.

Leaving me.

So much between us---it seems so selfish to lose it all simply to get those table scraps again? Thrown at my feet----my heart tattered and my soul broken.

I don't know what to do.

So... I did nothing.

One night changes everything. The night we graduate.

We go stargazing on a small hill near his house. He talks to me of the constellations, of the moon---the tide of the ocean and of gravity.

He tells me he wants to be a writer. I tell him he would be amazing and that he'll become famous and rich.

He laughs and says, no, but maybe I will make my mark on the world and make a little difference somehow.

I smile and all of a sudden, our hands touch.

I look away, and he asks me what I will do now. He doesn't move away from my touch yet, and I wonder why.

I tell him---I don't know. Maybe the Army. Navy. Something----somewhere to fight. To go away.

He smiles sadly and says, But, Noah... I don't want you to go away. Come to college with me.

We stop talking.

He grabs my hand, and squeezes it tightly.

I feel a rush of tenderness between us----but I am not surprised.

Layne is a very open person.

I am not--but I still held his hand.

"Remember that one Thanksgiving... we stayed together. You stayed at my house?" Layne asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. That was....something else..." I replied lamely. I felt like such a tool. I wished I could just tell him how I feel. He made it look so damn easy.

"I wished you had stayed longer. I loved being with you then."

I laughed with a snort. "Gay."

"No, Noah. Don't do that. Don't be a...what do you call it? Judgmental."

I shrugged. "I am not judgmental. I just think it sounds gay."

Layne frowned. "Is that what everyone says about me?"

I frowned this time. I did not want to tell him what everyone said.

"I will take your silence as admission to that fact."

"Look, Layne....I don't give two fucks what everyone says. I wish they didn't.... but... everyone... I just care.... I just care about us--I mean you... I mean...ugh... I don't know...." I turned away from his growing, knowing smile, my face hot and I looked down at the grass.

"I know you are hurting sometimes, Noah. It is okay to express yourself and still be manly... it is possible to do that."

I laughed again, but this time it choked into a sob.

Layne looked at me, and scooted closer and patted my back.

"You wanna hug it out, like men?" Layne says in a overtly gruff, Southern accent, and I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. "But not too long... we ain't fruits or nothin'!"

I laugh so long I lose my breath.

He is grinning and we are quiet again.

"Why do you like me, Noah? You are like so popular. All the girls love you, and your curly brown hair. And those dreamy, brown eyes!" Layne teased, and I fake punched him in the arm.

I rolled my eyes. "No. Don't even."

"And soooo strong! Ow! You broke my arm!"

I shook my head. "Stop, or I really will break it."

He stopped talking and looked at me so seriously, I burst out laughing again, and he laughed with me.

"I think I dreamed this. You were much more charming in it. And more interesting!" Layne said in a whisper, and we pushed each other playfully.

"Shut up. You are so crazy."

"So crazy that you will take me up on my offer to go to college with me? We can share a dorm!"

I shrugged. "I..."

"Lemme guess: I don't know?" Layne sighed. "Please, Noah... I know you better than that."

"Yeah. You do."

Layne looked at me like I was a zombie or something, and I half-smiled. "What?" I asked.

Layne sighed happily. "Nothing. I think you should think on things. Really think about your future."

"Hey, remember that time we were both in the principal's office... and you kept doodling those things?" I said with a chortle. Layne rolled his eyes, putting his hand over his eyes.

"Yeah, and the receptionist kept telling us to quiet down... we couldn't stop laughing... you were drawing those pictures of the principal... they were so funny... shit, I think I busted a lung that day..." Layne said fondly.

"Remember the one I drew of the principal serving shit, and he was stuffing his face full of it... while everyone looked disgusted by him?" I said with an immature laugh.

Layne tried to remain serious but started to laugh too. "Dork. You must be some kind of genius or something to draw that."

"I am, though. Right?" I said, laughing haughtily, making Layne laugh more, and he swung his hand at my arm, but he missed. I laughed mocking his attempt to hit me, and he came at me again.

I caught his hand, and I pulled him close. It was almost too perfectly choregraphed. Layne looked bemused but not weirded out.

Suddenly, we were so close---nose to nose. I felt a bit odd... being that we were two guy friends being so physically close... but it felt right. Like how it did it in my wildest, most romantic dreams with him.

'Oh shit,' I thought, my eyes wide, mouth agape. Like a fucking trout, I thought comically. I pictured myself as a stupid trout being caught by Layne. He might throw me back into the water after-all...

"N-Noah.... let go."

I shook my head, and took in a short breath, looking deep into his beautiful, emerald eyes. "But...I can't ever let you go....Iloveyou."

Once the words came out, I didn't regret it.

I had never seen Layne so shocked---so speechless.

But I could tell one thing.

There were no scraps here.

Only full meals between us.

He pulled me in close and caressed my hair.

And, finally, we kissed.

We kissed for a long time, a sweet---romantic----perfect----beautiful embrace.

We took in a deep breath together and he said, "Oh, Noah, I love you, too."

We both smiled and held each other close.

"The stars are so bright tonight," Layne said.

"Only because of you," I replied with a soft kiss to his cheek and we spent the night talking of our future.

Our future together.

Of stars and Layne's writings and the Moon and the tide.

Of our love and of our memories----forever entangled with the healing of our strong and loyal friendship.

All the table scraps got swept away.