Page 13 of What I've Tasted of Desire

I still had no answers. I pulled into the parking lot of a Taco Bell and ordered a soda through the speaker box. I paid the disinterested teenager at the window and nearly choked on my own spit as I looked ahead and saw him walking through the parking lot.Him.

The boy from the sidewalk. The one that had been pushed aside. I looked around and was relieved when I didn’t see the other guy. The mean one. I watched as he crossed right in front of my car as I waited for the cashier to hand me my cup. Once he was clear of the drive-thru, he looked both ways and crossed the street, heading down towards 5th, and then waited on the corner to cross the main intersection.

I gave a quick thanks, as she finally handed me my drink, and I pulled out of the lane to wind my way around the other side of the parking lot. He was still standing on the corner, waiting for the walk sign. He had a backpack slung over his shoulder, but he couldn't have been coming from school—it was Saturday.

God, he was pretty. More so than I remembered. Fair skin, thin frame, and a mess of unruly mahogany curls. He had his hands in his pockets and kept his gaze down towards the ground. Once the light changed, he crossed the street and I slowly pulled out of the parking lot, trying to keep a safe distance behind him. Where was he going?

He got stopped at another intersection, and I pulled into a service station just past where he was standing. I pulled up to a pump and put the car in park. The light turned green, and he stepped off the curb. I picked up Mom’s old Polaroid camera and tried to steady my hands.

Once the boy was in view on the sidewalk, I snapped a picture of him as he made his way down the sidewalk. As the negative mechanically slid out of the camera, I set it aside and pulled back out of the parking lot as the boy got down the road and out of sight.

I pulled back onto the road in time to see him take a right down a small alleyway, towards the more residential areas on the other side of the woods. The alleyway was too narrow for me to drive down, so I pulled to the side of the road and parked the car. I peeked my head around the alleyway, but couldn’t see him. I took a few cautious steps forward, my heart beginning to pound in my ears. I don’t know why I was following him, but something told me I had to. I made it to the end of the alleyway and spotted him off in the distance, walking along the tree line. I knew there were a bunch of houses back there; he must live in one of them.

I hung back a ways, 50 feet or so, filing in and out of the treeline as we went. I didn’t want him to see me. Mainly, I just didn’t want to freak him out. He sauntered along in no hurry, running his fingers through low-hanging leaves as he passed them. He seemed so carefree. So… unburdened.

I had a hard time determining how old he was. He looked like an older teenager. At least 16, I assumed. The treeline was coming to an end, and I held back a bit, not watching to step right out into the open. He walked past the first house on the corner, then the second, as he approached the third house on the right, he crossed the street and walked up the driveway of the third house on the left, and disappeared behind the front door.

So, hedidlive over here. The house was older, and could use a little more than a fresh coat of paint. The front porch railing was leaning and looked rickety, and the front yard was overgrown with crabgrass and weeds. Invasive vines left unchecked twirled themselves around the dilapidated banisters holding the front porch up. All the windows had been blocked with tinfoil, and the upstairs window on the left-hand side had been busted out at some point. A piece of plank-wood had been nailed across it.

I took note of the address and turned back down the street.

Why are you such chicken shit? You could have stopped and just talked to him.

…And say what, exactly?

“Hi, I’ve been thinking about you since I randomly met you on the street the other day when I watched your boyfriend assault you…” Not the best introduction. I sighed, put my hands into the pockets of my slacks, and made my way back to where I’d left the car.

As I climbed into the seat, the Polaroid I’d taken of him caught my eye. I’d almost forgotten about it. It was fully developed now, and I was impressed that I’d managed to get such a clear shot of him from this far away.

The image featured a sharp profile, with his head tilted towards the ground; wild locks of auburn hair curling all around his temples. His lips were slightly pursed, and a smattering of freckles on the side of his cheek was highlighted in the image by a ray of sunlight.

It was like he was some ethereal being I’d been lucky enough to catch a glimpse of. To capture in a photograph. I sat on the side of the road staring at his image.

What is your name? Where did you come from?

I found myself wanting to know every single detail about his existence. I wanted to read his autobiography.

After a while, I set the photo face down on the seat next to me, not wanting the sun rays coming in through the windshield to mess with the coloring or clarity of the photo. In a daze, I drove back to the house that now belonged to only me.

Chapter Seven

I took the metal credit card out of my wallet and jammed it between the handle latch and the door frame. The old turn-lock quickly gave way, and I pushed the back door open. It would have taken longer to pick the lock. Security seemed to be far from the forefront of these people’s minds. It was their intention to have my Alex sleeping here every night, but the lack of property security, even a deadbolt, was troubling.

Once again, keeping Alex safe fell on my shoulders. I closed the back door behind me and made my way through the empty house towards the front. The last time I was in here, Alex had taken his laptop back to the motel with him. Today, he’d left it behind. I pulled out the small office chair Alex sat in every day, and warmth began to spread across my chest as I took a seat. It was always a thrill to get to touch or use something of Alex’s. He sat in this chair daily. Sitting in it now helped me feel close to him, even if just for a minute.

With gloved hands, I opened up his laptop and typed in Alex’s PIN (his birthday, 0808) and the home screen appeared. I clicked through Alex’s work emails and searched for the fire extinguisher purchase order his boss had sent him. There had been quite a bit of back-and-forth correspondence between the two of them trying to get the extinguishers ordered, as well as discussing how many they were going to need as per city code. The house would have to pass fire inspection before Alex was allowed to move in.

This was my chance.

Alex had a thing for men in uniform. A kink, even. When he was alone and feeling horny, he’d pull up a browser tab on his phone and look up the same phrases over and over:gay military porn, gay man in uniform videos, gay police officer.But the one he searched for the most?

Gay firefighters.

I could pull off being a fireman, I decided. It had taken me years, but I finally had the body. I could certainly fake my way through installing a couple fire extinguishers. That would be my in. I would go install the extinguishers, flirt a little with Alex to see how receptive he would be, and, then? Well, I wasn’t actually sure after that. But I couldn’t wait any longer.

Alex was well over 18, now. Tom was off screwing some rich airhead in another city, and Alex was finally on his own. Living independently. It was now or never. As anxiety prickled at my senses, I tried to remind myself that this was what I had been working for, and the pieces were all falling into place. The Westing House project had come through perfectly. All was going to plan.

I just had to stop being a pussy. Alex deserved to have a strong man to lean on—someone to care for him and make sure all of his needs were met. I just had to make sure he realized that person was me. I had to be kind and go slow. He’d been through so much, and I knew he would be easily spooked. But I knew he was ready and looking for someone. He’d recently started a Grindr profile. He’d signed up for it on one of his walks back to the motel. I have to say, I was so conflicted when he made that move.

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