Jason and I were lounging in my living room, sitting on the carpet, our backs against the sofa. It was raining outside and we were both feeling a little bored at the prospect of not having much to do. My mom and I had just moved to a new house that was out on the edge of the town in the country. Jason and I had just met about two weeks ago, and the two of us had hit it off pretty well, which was good, since there were few other kids around out here. Jason was nice, and kind of like me, I suppose, which was why we got along like we did. He was average height, slender, with sandy hair - in contrast to me with darker hair, and kind of quiet and self-reflective. When we had first met, there had been a kind of neat chemistry between the two of us. Even without actually saying as much, we both realized and liked that. Yet, probably because we really did not know each other all that well, and our friendship had not had a chance to fall into familiar and predictable patterns of behavior, we both sort of shyly encouraged letting it show more than either of us probably would have with any other boy. Mostly in how we tended to have this chummy attitude, with the knowing looks that we exchanged and grinned self-consciously over. Not something that either of us was quite use to experiencing in a friendship, or at least being able to without the fear of somehow looking gay. With each other, though, we sort of cautiously enjoyed that, and to be honest, we liked the teasing sense of daring that came with it.
That morning, as disappointing as the weather was, and being suitable bored over not being able to get out, in a way it was sort of nice to have an excuse to just sit around and enjoy each others company. Although it had looked like rain, Jason had come over before it started, and I was glad that he had. It was better than spending the day alone, which was how he felt about it, too. Still, it was a dreary day, as we sat there gazing outthrough the rain-streaked sliding glass door across the living room at the dull grayness.
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"Maybe it'll clear up later," Jason sighed.
"Maybe," I said, although suspecting thatprobably would not happen.
We both had our shoes off in favor of being barefoot. Something that both of us would normally be a little shy about doing, but with a friend it seemed like a luxury that was okay to carelessly enjoy. There was a kind of appealingly naked and teasingly sexy quality about being barefoot, enough to make us both feel uninhibited. More than we might have otherwise been. Sitting with our legs stretched out, Jason idly bumped his foot against mine. Without thinking about it, I bumped my foot back against his.
For a few moments we absently let our bare feet sort of play together.
With the hint of a self-conscious grin Jason remarked, "I hope that your mother isn't coming home. "
I looked at him with a bemused expression, wondering what he was talking about.
"No," I said. "Why?"
Jason looked sort of embarrassed. "Well. .
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. if she saw the two of us sitting here together like this. . . "
I saw what he meant, but smirked at the implications. "We're just sitting here," I pointed out, choosing to be entirely practical about it.
"I know, " Jason conceded.
"Anyway," I assured, addressing the issue of privacy, "she's at work. She never comes home in the middle of the day. " I shrugged. "And if she did come home, we'd hear her car drive up. "
"Yeah," Jason said, seeing that there was nothing to worry about.
"It's not like we're gay or something," I said, being dismissing of that idea.
"No," Jason agreed. He grinned modestly.
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"It just might look like we were being pretty friendly. "
I smirked again, but at the same time grinned back, looking equally as modest about that point, and unable to deny it.
"It's not like the whole world has to know," I said resolutely. In an awkward attempt to sidestep the implications, I added, "Anyway. . . stuff like that is different between friends. "
"I guess," Jason admitted.
We exchanged a somewhat dubious look. It was obvious that neither of us had ever had the opportunity to explore the range of feelings that made up a friendship. Not beyond the everyday feelings that a person experiences, ignoring anything deeper. Realistically, human beings only come equipped with just one set of emotions. It is not like there's one set used for the opposite sex, and another entirely different one used for your own. It's all the same emotions, just experienced in varying degrees.
As we sat there, it was definitely awkward actually talking about it.
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Yet, at the same time, there was an appealing sort of freedom in being able to touch on that subject, and to be open and honest about it. Something we both liked. Even found desirable.
.
.
