The People in Rossford

Fifth period was the first class they all had together.

“I miss last year when he had lunch right now,” Layla said, walking into the room.

“Maybe they think you get less hungry the older you get.” Will suggested, slipping into the seat beside her.

“Now, have you guys kissed and made up?” Milo asked Dena and Brendan.

“Baby,” Dena said tenderly, kissing him on the cheek, “shut up.”

The bell went off, and they were still waiting for the teacher.

“I hear he’s new,” Ralph McCutcheon said.

“Someone open a window,” Aidan pled.

Layla turned around and asked him, “Is your arm broken?”

As Aidan stood up to open the window, the new teacher came into the room and Layla said, “Shit.”

He looked over at her. “Layla! William.”

“I’m Mr. Davis,” he began. “Saint Barbara’s recently hired me, so I’m new to Rossford.”

“How you like it?” Aidan shouted up.

“Alright, Mr…?”

“Michealson,” Aidan said.

Simon Davis continued: “I’ll be your history Modern European teacher this year. I already see some faces in here that I know. So why don’t we start this year, by introducing ourselves. We can start with the loquacious Mr. Michaelson.”

Brendan leaned forward and whispered, “Layla, you know him?”

Dena informed him, “That’s her mother’s boyfriend.”

“Hey!” Julian turned around and stopped, touching Claire’s wrist.

The girl who had called them came from across the cafeteria, hips swinging, black hair hanging behind her.

“My brother told me to go grab you,” she said. “You called that dumbass in our dumbass college success class an asshole! Did you know he tried to grab my ass? I’m Radha, by the way.”

“We’ve heard of you,” Julian said.

“Yeah, that’s right. My brother,” Radha thumbed over toward him. “Well, he wants you to come and eat with us. And I do too. We don’t really like anyone here.”

Julian looked at Claire, and Claire shrugged, and then they both followed her.

“So that guy’s really your brother?”

“Um hum,” said Claire. “He was living in California for awhile. Now he’s back here.”

“He’s hot.”

“He’s gay,” Julian and Claire said together.

Radha, threading her way through the cafeteria considered this and said, “Well, I can always look, and the good thing about him is he will never be a loser I wake up with, look across the bed at and say, ‘Oh, shit!’”

The kitchen table was covered in papers when Noah came down and saw Fenn sorting through them.

He stood at the base of the kitchen stair, watching, and then said, “Uh… hello.”

“Hello,” Fenn said tonelessly.

“Uh… What are you doing?”

“Nothing, Noah. Get yourself a cup of coffee or something. Todd got yogurt.”

“No, I mean, what are you doing? Maybe I could help.”

Fenn put down an envelope.

“I am separating bills and notices from before 2005 from the ones after because we really need to organize at the theatre.”

“That sounds simple enough,” Noah said, opening the fridge, and taking out a strawberry yogurt.

He sat down and took up a bill.

“Before,” he said. “After. Afters go here.”

“Afters go right here,” Fenn patted the table.

“Afters,” Noah repeated, triumphantly, putting the envelope down.

They worked in silence for a minute or two, Noah occasionally digging into the yogurt, and then Noah said, “Well, this should be finished pretty soon.”

At once, Fenn stuck his foot under the table and kicked out two large U-Haul boxes, stacked to the brim with papers.

“Oh,” said Noah. And then he chuckled.

And then Fenn chuckled.

“Glad I can help,” Noah said with a smile and shrug.

“Yes,” Fenn said, still laughing and sorting. “I’m glad you can too.”

“Are you sure about this?” Todd said.

“We can’t live with you all forever,” Noah told him.

“And besides,” Paul added, “I need to live on my own. Or sort of my own.”

They looked around the apartment off Dorr Road. It was new enough, looking to have been built in the seventies with white walls and polished wood floors now. Bright sunlight came through the curtained windows.

“And we’re not far away,” Paul added. “Come on guys, you’ve got to admit the idea of getting your space back is nice.”

“You can have all of the loud sex you want to,” Noah said.

“We already have all the loud sex we want,” Fenn said.

“I mean, really loud.”

“And I guess I can walk around the house naked again,” Todd said.

“Hey,” Paul shrugged. “I never asked you to stop.”

Fenn sat on the floor, Indian style, and said, “You guys are going to need furniture.”

“We’ll get on that,” Paul said sitting beside him. “That’s not your problem, Fenn. We’re not your problem anymore.”

“You act like I just take on problems.”

“You have a mothering aspect to you,” Noah said. “You do too,” he told Todd.

“But for now what Mom needs to know is we’re fine, and we’re having a housewarming in about a week.”

“How’s school going?” Fenn said offering his hand to Paul for help rising.

“See,” Paul said, as he pulled Fenn. “You just can’t stop.”

“That’s a good thing,” Noah said, telling Fenn, “cause he’s not doing that great.”

“Noah!”

“You’re not. You complain every night, and every night you’re like, don’t tell Kirk, don’t tell Kirk.”

Paul looked at him.

Noah shrugged, “So, instead, I told Fenn and Todd.”

“Well, we can come over and help later, if you want.”

“See, you’re doing it again.”

“If being a friend is doing it again,” Fenn said, “then I’m not really sorry.”

“Claire’s coming over later,” Noah said. “She and Julian are bringing over some funky furniture.Like, I think we’re going to try to make a bookshelf from cinder blocks, which is kind of funny when you consider how illiterate we are.”

“Speak for yourself,” Paul said with a little heat. “I don’t plan to be a dummy. I’m going to understand what’s going on. I’m going to do this.”

Noah held up his hands in mock defense.

“And what are you going to do, Mr. Noah?” said Todd.

Noah shrugged. “I guess for now, just keep shaking my ass and keeping it sexy up in here.”

“I spent ten years going that,” Fenn said. “It’s a good plan if you can manage it.”

“Ten years,” Todd said, cuffing him lightly. “You’re still fucking doing it everyday.”

“Flattery gets you everywhere,” Fenn yanked the taller man by his shirttail. “Let’s go home.”

“You gonna shake your ass for me?”

“Todd,” Fenn said in mock alarm and Paul and Noah looked at them. “Not in front of the children!”

“I’M THINKING OF joining the army.”

“You telling or you asking.”

“I’m stating an option,” Todd said. “Feeling around to see how you feel?”

“What does it matter how I feel?”

“Why do you pretend it doesn’t?”

“If you go off to the Persian Gulf, or wherever they send you—And why, in God’s great ass would you want to go into the army?—then it’s really your business, not mine.”

“Firstly,” Todd said, folding his hands, “I want to go into the army to do something for my country. And secondly, I want to make a man out of myself.”

Fenn turned away from him and said, “I can’t even believe you said that shit. Not to me. Not with a straight face.”

“Can I come over tonight?”

Fenn cocked his head.

“I’m coming over tonight,” Todd said. “I’ll be over at about eight. The guy from the army is coming around here this afternoon and we’re going to talk.”

“He just wants to get you killed.”

“I’m not going to be some grunt who just goes and get’s shot. I’ve got a degree in journalism. They’ll have a good use for me.”

“I just don’t know why you don’t write for a newspaper.”

Todd said back.

“You know what?”

“No, what?”

“I think… you do. I think you know why I do everything, but you just string me along. You just make me work for the littlest thing.”

“Todd. I will be thirty-two, you might be twenty-three. Up until now I never made anyone work for anything, and look where it go me.”

“Yeah,” Todd said, “with your own house that Tom made the down payment on, and the only theatre in town.”

When Todd arrived that night he didn’t tap on the door.

“You didn’t even knock.”

Todd pretended not to hear him as he crossed the room.

“What if I gave up on you?” Fenn said. “You’re taking a lot of chances. What if I said to hell with you and moved on?”

“What if you did?” said Todd

“What if—?”

“Fenn Houghton,” said Todd.

He leant down and put his mouth on Fenn’s, and that was the first time, and Fenn loosened a little and then caught Todd’s face in his hands, ran his hand over the thin black beard he had just started growing along his jaw line. They kissed awkwardly like that, catching each other’s waists. Fenn reached up to touch his hair, to hang from the warm pulsing of his neck.

They freed themselves just long enough to get to the sofa, and then continued again, for a long time, tired of all games, finding everything useless but this. A loud car came down Versailles playing mariachi music, and then there was silence.

They parted.

Todd kissed him again. They kissed tenderly, their lips having a hard time coming apart. Todd said:

“Is there one reason we shouldn’t just do this shit? Is there one reason we shouldn’t just take this to the bedroom?”

“Or the floor?” Fenn said mouthing his neck.

Todd’s mouth parted and he whispered, “or the kitchen table.”

They nuzzled for a long time. Fenn reached for Todd’s face, and holding it in his hands, staring at the dark eyes ringed by their constant olive shadow, at the straight fall of his slightly hooked nose, at his full mouth, the little beard, the little soul patch under his mouth.

He placed his mouth upon his, opened to the wetness. He pulled away, he stood up, for just a moment, his knee telling him he wasn’t twenty anymore. No, but he didn’t want to be twenty anymore.

He held out his hand.

Todd took it in his larger one. In the darkening house Fenn could just see the dusting of light black hairs on it, going up his arm.

They didn’t say anything. Fenn just let him upstairs. Head hanging in obedience, penis thick and rising with longing, Todd sauntered up after him, and followed.