Maybe this is what being a man was. Okay, so maybe I wasn’t a man just yet. But maybe I was getting closer.
I wasn’t a boy anymore, that was for sure.
Four
I WAS DRIVING THROUGH A path in the forest looking for a place to camp. Dante was lost in thought and, anyway, I wasn’t exactly relying on him to find a place. There was a small fork in the road, and I could see that it led to a small clearing that was the perfect spot. It seemed later than it was because of all the shade. But I knew we didn’t have a long time before it got dark.
“Let’s get to work.”
“Just tell me what to do.”
“That’s a first.”
We grinned at each other.
There were rocks in a circle where the last campfire had been. Dante and I took out the logs I’d brought from home. I placed a few logs where there were still some ashes and a half-burned log that had been put out. I carried a tin bucket I’d brought filled with twigs and kindling.
“How come you brought all that stuff from home when we could have gathered it all here?”
I grabbed some soil and held it in my fist. “Everything’s damp. Dad said you should come prepared with everything. Because you never know.” I smiled and threw the fistful of dirt so that it hit Dante right in the chest.
“Hey!” But Dante didn’t miss a beat, and we were having a damp soil kind of snowball fight and running around the pickup until we finally got tired.
“Didn’t take us long to get dirty, did it?”
I shrugged. “We came to have fun.” Dante brushed some soil from my face. Then he reached over and kissed me.
We stood there and kissed for a long time. I felt my whole body trembling. I pulled him closer and we kept kissing. And finally I said, “We need to finish setting up camp. Before it gets dark.”
Dante bowed his head and bumped my shoulder. We both looked up at the gathering clouds and listened to the distant thunder. “Let’s get to it.” There it was, that sense of enthusiasm that was rarely absent in the way he spoke. But there was something else in his voice. Something urgent and alive.
* * *
We were sitting around the campfire. We had our coats on, and the cold breeze was threatening to break out into a wind. “It looks like it’s going to storm,” Dante said.
“You think the tent will hold up?”
I nodded. “Oh, Dante, ye of little faith. It’ll hold up.”
“I have a surprise.”
“A surprise?”
He went into the tent and came back holding a bottle of liquor. He was smiling and looking very proud of himself. “I stole it from my dad’s liquor cabinet.”
“You crazy boy. You crazy, crazy boy.”
“They’ll never find out.”
“Like hell.”
“Well, I figured if I’d asked they might have said yes.”
“Really?”
“They might have.”
I shot him a look.
“And you know what they say, It’s better to ask for forgiveness than to ask for permission.”
“Really?” I shook my head and smiled. “How do you get away with—”
“With all the things I get away with? I’m Dante.”
“Oh, that’s the answer? Talk about cocky.”
“So I’m a little cocky sometimes.”
“You stole your dad’s bourbon.”
“Petty theft does not make me a thief—it makes me a rebel.”
“You’re overthrowing your father’s government?”
“No, I’m taking from the rich and giving to the poor. He’s bourbon rich and we’re bourbon poor.”
“That’s because we’re underage. And your mother’s going to massacre you.”
“ ‘Massacre’ is such a strong word.”
“I can’t believe you stole a whole bottle of bourbon from your dad. Is it because you enjoy the drama?”
“I dislike drama. It’s just that I want to feel alive and push the limits and reach for the sky.”
“Yeah, well, if you drink enough bourbon you’ll be kneeling on the ground and tossing your cookies.”
“Okay, I’m done with this conversation. The man I love does not support me.”
“What was that you said about not liking drama?”
He ignored my question. “I’m pouring myself a drink. If you don’t want to partake in downing some stolen liquor, then I’ll happily drink alone.”
I reached for a plastic cup and held it toward him. “Pour.”
* * *
We were sitting on folding chairs right next to each other. We’d kiss, then we’d talk. We were, of course, having our very adult drink of bourbon and Coke. Though I wasn’t sure if adults actually drank their bourbon with Coke. And, really, I didn’t give a damn. I was just happy listening to Dante talk and having him lean into me and then kissing him. There was only me and him and the darkness around us and the threat of a storm and there was a campfire and it made Dante seem like he was appearing out of the darkness, his face shining in the light of the fire. I had never felt this alive and I thought that I would never love anyone or anything as much as I loved Dante in this very moment. He was the map of the world and everything that mattered.
And then our kissing started getting serious. I mean, it was seriously serious. It was so seriously serious that my whole body was trembling. And I didn’t want to stop, and I found myself moaning and Dante was moaning too and it was so strange and so beautiful and so weird, and I liked the moaning. And then there was a bolt of lightning and we both jumped back and laughed. And it started raining and we ran into the tent.
We heard the rain pelt the tent, but it was secure—and somehow, the storm made us feel safe and then we were kissing and we were taking each other’s clothes off and the feel of Dante’s skin against mine and the storm and the lightning and thunder seemed as if they were coming from inside me and I had never felt as alive, my entire body reaching for him and his taste and his smell and I had never known this, this body thing, this love thing, this thing called desire that was a hunger and I never wanted it to end and then there was this electricity that shot through me and I thought that maybe it was like a death and I couldn’t breathe and I fell back into Dante’s arms and he kept whispering my name—Ari, Ari, Ari—and I wanted to whisper his name, but there were no words in me.
And I held him.
And I whispered his name.
And I fell asleep holding him.
* * *
It was dawn when I woke.
I could sense the calmness of the day.
I could hear the steady breathing of the boy sleeping next to me. But he seemed more like a man to me just then. And my own body didn’t seem to be a body that belonged to a boy. Not anymore. I do think that there are moments that change you, moments that tell you that you can never go back to where you started and you don’t want to go back to whoever you used to be because you have become someone else. I stared at Dante. Studied his face, his neck, his shoulders.
I covered him and moved away slowly. I didn’t want to wake him.