Love, Finally

Chapter 7

   It's early, early enough to hear the birds start waking up in the forest around us. The sky, just turning a light grey-blue, is quiet. I'm quiet as well, sitting in Luke's pickup, watching the trees slide by. A silent film, that's what this morning is. A silent film, the universe revealing true nature. Almost black and white, hints of blue and green and grey in my peripheral vision.

  The universe revealed something else too. Last night, it did. I don't know what, but the Polaroids in my pocket burn and the weird empty feeling in my lower abdomen reminds me of something I don't know. Not that I didn't enjoy last night, its quite the opposite really. Last night was amazing and lustful and beautiful in every way. I'll never forget the love I felt for Luke in that abandoned mansion. But the universe is trying to communicate with me, through the Polaroids of Luke and the silent film morning.

  Luke and I are quiet, enjoying the peace, holding paws between us until we pull into a weathered 24 hour gas station on the outskirts of town. The faded fluorescent sign next to the road buzzing quietly, flickering, waking up. Communicating, I think to myself. What am I missing?  

   We pull up next to the pump, and I hop out and head into the store. The clerk, a weathered old bear that looks asleep, sits behind the counter, an old T.V. set playing next to him. I look for the coffee and pour two cups of the weak, watery liquid into Styrofoam cups. Whatever, we can get better stuff at home. I reach for the lids when two arms snake around my waist, pulling me into a hug. Luke. I turn around and hug him back, inhaling his scent, our scents from last night. Our hug is silent, another part of the film, but I hear his question loud and clear. 

"I'm alright," I whisper, the two cups of coffee steaming beside us. "I loved it. I love you."

He looks at me, nods, and gives me a quick peck on the lips. The bear is watching us now, with an odd expression on his face. I bring over the cups of coffee and point at a pack of Marlboro's behind him.

"You got ID?" He grunts.

"Do you really care?" I reply.

He grunts again, mutters something like, "Dammit, he's dead anyways," and throws a pack next to the cups of coffee. I place a lighter on top of the cigarettes, and hand him a $20.

I pocket the cigarettes and lighter, grab the cups of coffee, and tell him to keep the change. As we head out the door, Luke asks, "Since when do you smoke?"

"I don't. Somethings weird today though. It calls for a cigarette." I say as we climb back into the truck. "You want one?"

"I'm okay, thanks." He's giving me a weird look, which is justified. I'd be giving me a weird look too. 

The fluorescent sign flickers a farewell as we pull away from the pump. I push a cassette into the radio, a mix tape of songs from the 1975 for when I feel empty, and pull out a cigarette. Me starts playing, and the twitching of the lighter flame dances to the slow melody of Matty singing. I got a plane in the middle of the night, don't you mind? The music fits my mood, and the cigarette smoke and grey clouds agree. 

We drive in silence for a bit longer until Luke pulls over on the side of the highway, puts the hazard lights on and presses pause on the cassette. The song stops mid sentence. I was thinking 'bout killin' myself, don't you m-. He looks over at me, worry etched across his face, and I feel guilty. I throw the last of the cigarette out the window.

"Are you done with those?" He asks, nodding at the pack sitting on the arm rest.

"Yeah," I say softly, avoiding his gaze. He takes the pack and the lighter and pockets them.

"I'm gonna toss these when we get home, okay? You know these kill, and If I were you I'd want to stay far away from these." He looks me dead in the eye, and I know what he's talking about. My eyes sting as I remember the smell of singed fur and the feeling of cigarette burns on nights when Max was only kind of drunk. 

"So, you wanna tell me what's going on?" He prompts, not breaking eye contact. Damn, his eyes are beautiful, "Is it about last night?"

"No! No, of course not. Last night was one of the best experiences I've ever had. I don't know what's going on. Honest. Today feels weird. I feel weird." I say. "It has nothing to do with you, I promise." I lean across the faded seat and grab his paw.

"So what is it?" He asks. "Can I do anything?"

"I don't know. I really don't. I have to think about it." 

He doesn't look totally convinced, but turns off the hazard lights, presses play on the radio and merges onto the highway. I gaze out the window, the lyrics of Me swirling through my head. I love you, don't you mind, don't you mind? 

I look over at the fur in the car driving next to us. It's a fox, a girl fox, and she's wearing a somewhat tight scoop neck t shirt. I feel a pang of jealousy as I stare at her chest until she merges onto the exit ramp, leaving me with even more confusion than when we first started driving. What the fuck was that?

I ponder that jealous feeling until we pull up into Luke's driveway. I hop out, Polaroid in one paw and I catch Luke's paw with the other. We let ourselves into the house and walk into the kitchen. The digital clock on the stove reads 8:54, so Luke's family should be getting up soon.

"Luke." I say, causing his ears to perk up a little as he turns around.

"Yeah?" He says softly.

I don't answer, just embrace him. I breathe deeply and bury my nose into his chest, squeezing my eyes closed. We stand there for a while, I don't know how long. Does it really matter? The clock on the stove is blinking at 0:00 as he pulls away.

"What would you say to some waffles?" He asks, looking down at me.

"That sounds lovely." I whisper, giving him a peck on the cheek.

 ...

While he makes us some breakfast, I go sit down in the living room and pull out my phone. I open the search engine and hesitate. What is it that I want to look up? The image of the fox on the highway lingers in my mind. I start to type in jealous but hit the backspace key. I sit there, thinking, and type transgender. I can't hit search though. I don't know why. Is that really what I'm looking for? That can't be it, right?

I sit there, cursor blinking at me rhythmically , and Luke yells, "Breakfast, Mike!"

I close the search engine and shut off my phone as I stand up to walk into the kitchen. I sit down at the kitchen island and am presented with waffles and a mug of actual coffee. The waffles have a heart made out of whipped cream on top, sprinkled with fresh fruit. 

"Really Luke, a heart? God you're so weird sometimes." I giggle.

"What? Can't I proclaim my love for you through delicious breakfast foods topped with empty calories?" He asks, feigning offense. He walks over and stands next to me, putting his arm around my shoulders. I wrap my arms around his waist and murmur into his stomach.

"I love you, Luke."

"I love you too, Mike. So, so much." 

As we embrace, I stare down at my lap. These jeans are tight, and I can see a vague outline of my manhood. I get a sour taste in my mouth as a feeling of general disgust builds up inside me, and I chase it away with some coffee and a bite of now soggy waffles.