Coming Out

Part Eight

I don't talk to Jorge for the rest of the day and when he waves at me at the game I ignore him. My chest hurts thinking that all he thinks our relationship is, is fucking. If I couldn't have sex with him ever again, but it meant I could be with him emotionally, I wouldn't even mind that much. I like sex, a lot, but I'm not in it for that. I even cost us the game because I couldn't stop thinking about it. 

In the locker rooms, when I'm getting dressed, I get a text from Jorge.

"I'll meet you there? Liv and I are going to my house to change and then we'll be at Drew's."

I put my phone in my bag with a huff, ignoring the text. 

When I finished up in the locker room, I drive home instead of to Drew's party. I still don't want to go. I look in the rear view mirror at all the stuff I brought for my date with Jorge and roll my eyes. I got all his favorite snacks and packed all the extra blankets and pillows from around my house so he's be comfortable. 

When I get home, my moms sitting at the dining room table reading a book.

"I thought you weren't going to be home until later," She looks up a me.

"I just decided to come home," I shrug.

"Where's Jorge?" I sit in a chair next to her.

"He's hanging out with his friends tonight."

"You like him a lot?" She smiles at me. We haven't gotten a chance to talk about it since I told my parents. Jorge's been over everyday and they didn't want to ask about him in front of him. 

"Yeah," I smile and look down at my lap. "He's really great."

"He seems like a nice boy."

"He is," I smile thinking about how much I love him. I'm reminded about how mad at him I am when my phone goes off and I see another text from him. 

"Where are you?" Jorge's been waiting for me for at least fifteen minutes. I say goodnight to my mom and go upstairs to text him back.

"I'm at home. I'm not going." I feel bad for not telling him that when he first texted me. I hope he wasn't waiting for me upstairs where we always meet. I hope he was with his friends. 

"Are you really still mad at me?" He sends another text right after that, "I'm sorry. Please come hangout with me."

"I had plans to hangout with you, but you bailed." I don't want him to spend all night worrying about me. Even if I'm mad I still want him to have fun. "Please be safe. I love you. Goodnight."

I turn on a movie and close my eyes wishing he was in my arms. 

***

I wake up to my phone ringing. I groan and roll over waiting for it to stop. When it does, I sigh and close my eyes again, but sit up when it goes off again. When I look at my phone, I see Jorge's name and face flash across the screen. 

"Hello?" I try my best to sound like I wasn't just sleeping. 

"Benji," Jorge slurs. He's trashed. 

"Are you okay? Why are you calling me?" I turn on the lamp next to my bed and rub my eyes. 

"I just miss you," Jorge hiccups. "And I'm sad you're not here."

"Well, I'm sad you're not here." I stand up and slide my shoes on. "How much did you drink?"

"I don't know, like seven or eight," Jorge laughs.

"Seven or eight what?" I grab my keys and walk downstairs slowly trying not to wake anyone up.

"I don't know," Jorge giggles. I look at the clock on the wall when I get to my living room. Two-thirty. 

"I'm coming to get you so be ready."

"No, I don't want to leave yet," Jorge whines. 

I walk outside and climb into my car. "Jorge, don't." I don't want to fight with him, especially while he's drunk. We can talk about everything tomorrow, but right now I just want my boy. 

"What are you going to do, Benji? Come inside and get me?" Jorge laughs. If I was out I would and he knows it. 

"Stop. I'll text you when I'm outside," I hang up before he can respond. The drive to Drew's house is short and before I know it I'm outside waiting for Jorge to come out. I text him to let him know I'm here.

I smile to myself when I see his small figure stumble down the street to my car. He's wearing my sweater. 

"Hey," Jorge opens the door and slides in. His eyes are red and puffy.

"What's wrong?" I reach across the car and grab his hand, squeezing it gently. 

"Nothing." I know he's lying.

"Baby, tell me what's going on."

"They were just stupid guys," Jorge slurs. Did someone hurt him?

"Who?" I rub his cheek lightly. 

Jorge looks behind him at the backseat. His eyes focus on the snacks, then the games, and finally on the laptop. "Was that for me?" He looks up at me. Tears pool at the corners of his eyes.

"Yeah, I was going to surprise you," I sigh. Jorge lets out a quiet sob and puts his face into his hands. "Baby, it's okay," I say, suddenly not angry anymore. I rub his back trying to calm him down.

"Can we just go home? Please?" Jorge cries. My heart swells at him calling my house 'home'. 

"Sure, baby," I kiss his cheek and put the car in drive.