Carl and Sal were still pretty wasted when Seth drove the bus up to their parent’s house. They scrambled out the car, and Carl somehow managed to fish out his keys from his jacket to unlock the door.
Seth lugged them both down into the basement on a dangerous and clumsy journey down the stairs where Carl collapsed onto the bed with an exhausted sigh and began to doze off. Sal crashed down onto the sofa.
“Maybe you should take your shoes and jacket off before you sleep,” Seth said in a whisper.
Sal groaned and forced himself into a sitting position. “If you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask,” Sal said.
Seth smiled that incredible, heart-melting smile, his eyes staring intently back at Sal. “You’re drunk, Sal.”
“And you smell good, Seth…real good.”
Seth didn’t move for a few seconds, as if he was considering his next move. “Get some sleep," Seth told him. "I've smoothed things out for you.” With those words, he disappeared, as he'd never been there.
Sal felt the room spinning, and then he fell asleep.
When Sal woke up, it was almost nighttime. The hangover felt like a balloon under his skull, adding pressure to his brain. A layer of dehydrated saliva covered his dry lips. The room swirled a little as he reached out to get a note which had been pinned to the table next to him, reading:
I don’t know if you remember, but I took care of matters with your parents for you, so don’t worry.
S.
As far as Sal knew, they were in big trouble. They'd been plastered the night before and had provoked a fight. He didn’t even know what time they'd come home or whether his parents had seen them or not.
A voice echoed from upstairs as if to answer his questions. Footsteps came down toward him, probably to make him stand trial for his escapades. Sal was not in the best of shape, and he was dying for a drink of water, but he tried his best to seem appealing. He flattened his hair and rubbed his face with a dirty towel.
His mother stopped on the last stair. She seemed surprisingly joyful, and Sal was baffled. “Hello," she chirped. "Did you have a nice time yesterday, sleepyheads? You've been sleeping for an awfully long time.
“You came home at such a decent hour last night, your father and I are pleased," she continued. “Considering everything that was going on last night.”
Carl sat up in his bed, looking like a zombie who had just begun to rot. His head turned toward the sound of his mother’s voice, and he rubbed his eyes as he tried to figure out what was going on.
“Thank God you didn’t get into a brawl with those drunk kids at the park last night. That was just horrible.”
Sal wondered about the smell of beer and puke which still clung to the air in the basement. Had she not noticed, or had her sense of smell somehow been damaged?
“You should shower and wash your clothes. I can’t believe those kids, running around the park, spraying people with beer like that.”
“That just wasn't right,” Sal said, trying to keep a stern face. His mind was still a surging perplexity.
“I know. Well, there's dinner in the kitchen if you’re hungry, and please take a shower." His mother walked back upstairs.
Carl wore a puzzled expression. “What the fuck, Sal?”
Sal handed Seth's note to Carl who read it a couple of times before gawking at Sal. “I like your boyfriend, Sal," he said. "I don’t know how he pulled it off, but I like him.”
Sal blushed. “He isn't my boyfriend. What the hell did we do last night?”
“I don’t know, but I feel like someone's bashed my head in with a sledgehammer.” Carl rubbed his forehead. “Get me a cold, non-alcoholic drink, please.”
Sal agreed and stumbled upstairs, where he drank himself a few glasses of water to satisfy his dehydrated body. When he went back downstairs with a bottle of cold water, Carl was sitting, flipping through his phone.
“Who the hell's Anita and why is she texting me to tell me she had a great time at Giantsfair?”
“I don’t know, Carl. I don’t remember much, and I don’t know whether that's a good or bad thing.”
“But seriously, your boyfriend really came through for us, saving us from a lot of shit.” Carl paused to chug the water.
“His name's Seth.” Sal looked around the room for his cell phone.
Carl scrutinized Sal. “What’s it’s like to be into dudes?”
Sal sighed. “It is not much different from being into women.” Sal had only dated a few guys before. No one really knew about his bisexual side, or they just didn’t care. He'd never been hassled like he'd heard some bis or homosexuals were.
He'd discovered he'd liked men when he was fifteen. They'd had a substitute teacher, named Mr. Callaghan, who couldn’t have been more than twenty-two. Whenever his eyes wandered around the class, Sal’s stayed locked on him. He felt himself blush whenever Mr. Callaghan looked his way. His eyes had this softness to them.
Sal felt remorseful about the whole Mr. Callagan thing—it had been his fault the man had to leave Strong Edge.
“Have you ever been with a dude?” Carl pressed on.
“What’s with all the questions? Does it really matter?” Sal said uneasily. He'd never talked to anyone about it before.
“No, of course not. I'm not grossed out by it or anything, it's just that you've always been a ladies' man, but I have never seen you care for anyone like you seem to care for Seth. I mean, Robin doesn’t count, that posh tart.” Carl had never liked Robin. She was the only daughter of a wealthy family in Strong Edge who, according to him, ignored unpopular students. She was a spoiled, stuck-up brat who enjoyed ridiculing those she saw as inferior, and she'd dismissed Carl as a loser after one of his many trips to detention. Carl couldn't stand Robin's snobby behavior toward their less-popular classmates, the so-called underachievers.
For a basement, the ceiling was pretty high, and Sal had no problem standing up. It was funny how he thought of that now.
“Yeah, I suppose I do care." Sal ran a hand over his smooth skin—he'd never had facial hair in his life. "I mean, I've never met anyone like Seth before.
“Are you leaving?” he asked Carl. “You mentioned last night that you were going to wherever Louise was.”
Carl sat still for a while, considering his answer. “I think I am. You seem to be traveling down a path of your own, and I think it's about time I did the same.”
“What about Aunt Vickie?” Sal said in an attempt to make Carl stay.
“I said I'd help you with that, and I will, but I think I'll leave the rest of your journey to you. Besides, you have someone more competent to help you now.” Carl winked.
Sal felt heart sink to feet. He'd never heard his brother talk like that before. He'd never sounded so mature, so settled.
“I love you, Sal, I do. You're a mystery, but so am I.” Carl smiled. “Just whistle, and I'll be there, just like that time in the woods.”
“I get that, and I respect that, but I was hoping we could spend the summer together.”
Sal changed the subject, “Do you know where to find Louise?”
“Nope, but I'm going to find out. Not now, though, because I feel like shit, and Anita wants to know if we can hang out tonight. This must be what it's like to be you.” Carl threw a pair of dirty socks after Sal.
“You don’t know the half of it!” Sal laughed. “Just let the girl down easy.”
“If all else fails, I have you to save me," Carl said, grinning. "Besides, we're going to visit Aunt Vickie tomorrow. It's my excuse to blow her off.”