My Drug Dealer

My eyes itched all day long.  My prescription for Bepreve was out.  I wanted to swing by the pharmacy on my way home, but Rachel Thompson in accounting spilled her chocolate shake on my blue button-down shirt and ruined my bright red, coordinating tie.  I got home, showered quickly, tossed on a t-shirt and some shorts, slipped on my sandals, and was out the door again.  

As I parked my car, I saw two guys, probably in their early twenties, and not wearing masks, laughing and joking with one another as they made their way to their car. I was jealous; I knew I shouldn’t be. They were probably just friends.

Every few weeks, I would make the promise to myself that I would ask out the next guy I was attracted to. The pandemic had allowed me to chicken out on my decision. I slipped on my mask and went inside. The pharmacy was in the back, so I made my way.

I was second in line behind a woman with an antsy kid, but, the truth is, I didn’t pay much attention to the kid because the pharmacy tech had the most beautiful blue eyes. He also had a nice haircut that gave him an attractive forehead. Who knows what the rest of his face looked like. He looked to be just under six feet and about one hundred seventy pounds. His eyes were crystal sapphires. I was sure I’d never seen him here before.

“Next,” he called out, and then he looked up at me. It felt as though he was really looking at me.

I walked up to the counter. “Fuck, but you have the most beautiful eyes,” I said in a rather low voice; I was sure he hadn’t heard me.

His face turned slightly red. He had heard.

“Thanks.”

We stood for a few seconds just looking at one another.

His name badge read ‘Ryan’, and I heard him clear his throat. “Your name and birthdate, please.”

“Jacob Carter, July 14.”

“Here you are.” He looked back at me. I felt this tingling, like touching an electric fence, shoot through me. I shivered. “One to pick up.” He turned to the rack behind him and found the package. He turned and looked at me before coming back to the counter. “Shall I put it on the card on file.”

Quick, I thought, make this last longer. “No. Put it on this one. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my little wallet. I handed him my red Visa.

“You have to put it in the machine. Oh, wait. You have to sign it first.”

I signed then inserted my card. I kept glancing up at him. I wanted to say more, but I didn’t know what to say. The pharmacist on duty glanced over to us several times during this. The machine started beeping; I pulled my card and placed it on the counter. I put my card on the counter.

He handed me my drugs. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Jacob.”

“You, too, Ryan.” I saw a business card in his left hand; I thought he might hand it to me, but he didn’t. I purposely walked away without my credit card.

I walked to the entrance, but I slowed down once I was a few aisles away. I heard my name and saw Ryan approach me.

“You forgot this,” he said.

I took a quick breath. “I know you’re at work, but…”

“Text me.” He pushed the card toward me, and I noticed the business card on top of my credit card.

I nodded, and he went back to his station. I put the credit card back and walked over to the office supplies. I didn’t need any, but it gave me a chance to text him.

Me: “Jacob Carter here. I think I should take you to dinner. Crawfish King is always fun, but someplace you like is good, too.”

I went back home, removed my contacts, and put a drop of Bepreve in each eye. I laid down on the sofa with my phone and waited.

A bing from the phone startled me; I guess I had nodded off. The phone didn’t recognize my face, so it took a few seconds before I accessed the message.

Ryan: “Ryan Nelson. I get off work at 5. Want to go to karaoke night at my sister’s house? I can pick you up. If not, I can still pick you up for crawfish.”

‘I hate singing in front of people; maybe I won’t have to. Shit. Why is this so hard? He made me tingle inside; I want to know him better. Even if we just end up being friends.’ My thoughts were driving me crazy.

Me: “Sounds like fun. What should I bring?”

Ryan: “Just you. Are you more comfortable driving yourself? If I drive, it’s an excuse for us to leave.”

I texted him my address. I took a shower and changed into a comfortable shirt and shorts. I quickly straightened the apartment. The kitchen was already clean. I grabbed my Kindle and started reading a book I was almost finished with. The last pages went quickly, and I was trying to decide what to read next when my phone binged.

I grabbed it; this time, the face recognition worked. The message simply read, “I’m here.”

I stepped outside and saw him get out of his car. I raised my hand, and he raised his in response. A bright flash and a crack of thunder split the air. I saw Ryan jump; he began to move quickly toward me. He was still in his work clothes, and he was carrying a small bag. At that moment, a torrent of rain fell. By the time he reached the covering over my apartment door, he was drenched.

He stood in front of me dripping wet. “I can’t believe this,” he smiled. Wow, what a beautiful smile! “Ten seconds and I’d have made it.”

His smile was infectious. I smiled back.

“Not a very good first impression, is it?”

“I think you look good either way,” I felt my cheeks get warm as I said it. I was sure he became a little flushed as well. “Come on in.” Another flash and loud rumble made the two of us jump.

We stepped inside, and I led him to the bathroom. “The washer and dryer are in here if you want to toss your clothes in. I’ve got a robe in my closet that I’ve never worn. I’ll get it.”

“I have a change of clothes in my bag here. Someone was in the restroom at work, so I didn’t change before leaving.”

“I’ll wait out here for you. Would you like something to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having.”

I closed the door behind me and went to the kitchen. I couldn’t believe how handsome he was. Those beautiful crystal blue eyes, that wonderful smile; they were enhanced by that strong jawline and that cleft. I could tell once he was sopping wet that he was on the thin side. He more than likely had a swimmer’s build without as much muscle. I stood at the refrigerator and closed my eyes. There was something else about him that made me feel weird inside, a good weird. Please, God, please,” I whispered.

I pulled a 2-liter Coke from the fridge and put it on the counter. I opened the cupboard door and wished I’d bought those fancy glasses. I took down my two best, unmatched as they were, and I placed them on the counter. In the pantry, I had a small bottle of rum given to me as a Christmas gift from a previous job.

Ryan stepped into the kitchen. “Can I help?”

I handed him the bottle. “Do you want to open that?”

“Whoa. This is quality rum.”

“It was a gift. I don’t usually drink unless it’s a special occasion.” I opened the Coke. “Which goes in first?”

“I don’t know,” Ryan said as he walked up to me. “I’ll put the rum in first.” He leaned toward the counter and put a small bit of rum in each glass. “I’m not a big drinker either.” He placed the bottle on the counter, turned his face to mine, and brushed his lips against my lips.

I felt another quiver through my body.

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” he told me. “But I wanted to when you were looking at me in the store. Your eyes pulled me in.”

“I’ve never kissed anyone either.” I moved my head to push our lips together. I moved my lips against his, and I heard him make a quiet moan.

“My heart is telling me that you’re a special guy,” he said when we separated to take a breath.

I reached forward and put my hand on his chest. “No one’s ever thought I was special, but I have the same feeling about you.”

Ryan smiled again and kissed me. “I hope you don’t mind, but I canceled the plans with my sister while I was changing into dry clothes.

“Good idea,” I nodded, and a rumble of thunder agreed with me. “It’s safer if we stay inside.”

“Is it?” he asked.

I looked into his eyes. “Maybe not,” I chuckled a little. “I can fix us something here.”

“Do you have eggs?”

“Yeah, I do. Is that what you want?”

“My mom once told me that I should make sure that any girl I dated could make scrambled eggs. She said if the answer was no, I should break-up with her and move on. That’s the day I told her I was gay. Without missing a beat she said, ‘If he can’t scramble an egg, you sure as hell don’t want him either.’ I’d love to tell my mom that you can scramble an egg.”

“Two or three,” I laughed.

“Three.”

“Wet or dry?”

“I don’t know. You’re the first guy I’ve ever asked to make me a scrambled egg.”

“Finish the drinks, and I’ll take care of the eggs.” I got to work; just a touch of butter in the pan. I cracked the eggs into a bowl, stabbed the yolks with a fork, rinsed the fork, and put it in the dishwasher. When the heat of the pan felt just right, I poured the eggs in. I rinsed the bowl and put it in the dishwasher. Retrieving a small spatula from a drawer, I checked the eggs. They weren’t quite to the point I wanted. I got two plates down and took the salt out of the cupboard.

Ryan watched me closely the entire time. “You have this down, don’t you?”

“Shh. Don’t interrupt perfection. I’m trying to make sure your mom likes me.”

“She’s going to love you. You’ll be the son she’s always wanted.”

I couldn’t resist kissing him before working on the eggs. I used the spatula to break things up. The whites had cooked enough to mix with the yolks perfectly. I hated scrambled eggs that were just omelets that were broken into little pieces. I added a touch of salt. These were real scrambled eggs. I got them to the right amount of wetness and pulled them from the burner. I slid them onto the two plates.

I placed them on my two seat kitchen table. “Voilà, les œufs sont prêts à manger. Too bad I don’t have any fresh parsley. Maybe next time.”

“Hold on. Sit down.” Ryan pulled up his phone and took a picture of me and then of his plate.

“What are you doing? It’s just a plate of scrambled eggs.”

Ryan was texting. “I’m sending this to my mom.”

“You haven’t even tasted them yet,” I complained.

He took a bite. “Fuck me if these aren’t the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever eaten.”

He liked them. He finished texting.

“What did you say to her?”

“I’ll tell you after we eat. Let me get the drinks.”

He seemed to savor every bite of the eggs. They were pretty much how I always fixed them. It made me feel really good about myself that he enjoyed them so much. As I got to my last few bites, I wondered what he might want to do after we finished eating.

Ryan took his last bite, took a sip of his drink, and said, “OK, Jacob Carter, here’s what I wrote.” He passed the phone to me. On it was one of those horrible phone pics because the phone is too close and the lens is wide-angle. Below my picture was written, “Wondering if he is the perfect man" Then there was a picture of a plate of scrambled eggs. Under that, the text, “These eggs say he is.”

I swallowed and handed the phone back. I couldn’t believe he thought I was perfect. I was far from it, but I wondered if I were the perfect man for him. I felt the urge to tear up, I fought back.

He reached his hand forward and put his fingertips on mine. “What’s the matter?”

“I like you. I like you a lot, and I don’t understand it because I just saw you for the first time a few hours ago, but it’s as though you’ve always been here. But at the same time, I don’t know anything about you.”

“I’m feeling the same way. I have this sense that I don’t need to be nervous around you, but at the same time, I’m worried that I’ll do something to screw things up. I’ve had guys hit on me, but that never seemed quite right. I’ve had guys ask me out; a couple of them were as cute as you, but most weren’t. I’d go out with them, and almost immediately I knew they weren’t for me. The few friends I have were from my pharmacy tech class, and none of them live around here. I guess I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin who thinks he met his someone special.”

I got up and walked around the table to him. I held his head against my chest. “Can you feel that?”

“Your heartbeat?”

“Yeah. It’s been beating faster since you’ve been here. It belongs to a twenty-six-year-old virgin who thinks he’s met his someone special.”

Ryan stood up and hugged me, then he kissed me so hard that I thought I might swoon. “Let’s go on the couch and snuggle, and you can tell me about your childhood.”

“OK.” I reached for the plates. “I need to rinse these off and put them in the dishwasher.”

“Let me.”

“But I really need to…”

Ryan ran his fingers through my bangs and pushed them back. “I understand that, but we need to start sharing responsibilities. You can’t be the only one to clean up. Is there a special way you want them in the dishwasher?” he asked as he rinsed them.

I nodded.

“Show me.”

Tears began to well up in my eyes. He understood.

There’s a thunderstorm outside. Will lightning strike inside?