Flower Boy (BoyxBoy)

xiii

edd.

WE LEFT THE RESTAURANT AROUND EIGHT O'CLOCK. I felt bad that we wasted so much time not at the party because of what I wanted to do.

We stood outside for the Über that Eddy had called so that the restaurant could close. I hug myself as we wait, shuddering in the unusually bitter cold air.

"Cold?" Eddy asks. I smile and shake my head.

I forgot my jacket at home, I thought, sighing. 

The Über stops in front of us.

"Andrew?" Eddy asks the driver. I suppose the driver says something in response because Eddy gets into the front seat. I sit in the back and listen to the conversations taking part at the front of the car, staring at the lit-up windows and lampposts we pass. They seem like stars in the black of night.

I can tell that we are reaching the end of our journey in this long car ride when I hear the booming bass of the party. When we stop, I can already feel my hands sweating and my heartbeat racing. I take a deep breath and step out of the car.

"Hey, don't worry about him, Drew," Eddy says to the driver. "I'm sure your son understands why you'd transition, especially since he's eighteen now. Three years is a long time, you know? Sometime you should take him out and let him get to know the new you!  Show him the mixtape!"

They shake hands before the driver departs.

"Ready?" He says to me.

I squeeze my wrist nervously and stare at the house. "Y-yes."

"We can still dip."

"Honestly, Eddy," I look at him.  "I'm fine."

Eddy slaps my back with his hand as he passes me and makes his way toward the house. I follow him closely, feeling uneasy. My heart rate keeps going up, eventually matching with the beat of the current song that's playing. When we walk inside, he gestures for me to follow him to the basement.

Arriving downstairs, I take in the scent of alcohol and marijuana. I haven't smelled these scents in years.

"I figured you'd like to be somewhere quieter," Eddy smiles. He's so thoughtful.  I hope I'm not keeping him away from dancing.

I watch as Eddy walks up to the open bar and greets the bartender with a handshake. The bartender is a tall man of middle eastern origin with dark brown skin, a short black beard, and a white turban on his head. "Farid! How are you, man?"

"Great, man, I'm good!" The bartender says. "How're you? How's your girl?"

"Man, that is one long story," Eddy laughs. "How's your family?"

"Safe for now," he says. "They're moving to Turkey soon, so hopefully they can start working there soon."

"That's great," Eddy smiles.  He looks over at me, so I cautiously walk forward. Eddy puts his hand on my shoulder and says, "This is my friend, Edd--the smart one."

"Ah, Edd!" Farid looks at me.  "I've heard so much about you."

"All good things, I hope?" I ask, holding out my hand.