Night in the Ruts

Broken Glass - Charlie

Classes were long, classes were boring, but classes were worthwhile.  Two weeks and one day after the one year anniversary of the official hook up of Nicky and me (not like I'm counting or anything...), I was driving home to my dad's house when I decided to take a detour.  I detoured to Nicky's.

        We've been spending a lot more time together now.  And it's nice.  May I say, my 'kissing skills' have improved tenfold.  Lots of practice; lots and lots of practice.  And believe me, I'm not complaining in the slightest.

        So anyway, I parked the car and went up to his apartment and I walked through the door and nearly got beaten to death by a broom.  "Oh, hey Charlie," Nicky said absently.  "Fuck– Simon," he continued in an annoyed whisper, "Charlie, shh..."

        "Wha–"

        "Shh!"  He locks eyes with me for a split second before kissing me, though it was nothing like last night's (that's the first time I didn't have any homework, so we decided that yes you do in fact celebrate one year hook up anniversaries, and we did).  Then he goes right back to glaring at a space just above his record player.  "He's sleeping," he whispers, approaching the record player slowly with the broom.

        "What're you doing?"

        "Fuck it right in the– Charlie, shh! I said you'll wake him up!" he hisses.

        "Who?"

        "Simon!" he whispers.  "Now shh!"

        I put my hands up as he starts to dust the top of the record player.  He's lost his mind, this time.  Then he sweeps a direct path out the door, laughing madly.  "I'll send out Garfunkel soon!" Nicky calls, hanging in the doorway.  Then he slams the door, throws the broom down, claps his hands together and says, "Hey," like nothing strange happened.

        "Hi..." I say.  Nicky pressed play on the record player and a song I'd never heard before came to life.  It was mid-guitar intro, but it wasn't the usual trippy stuff he typically has on.  It was heavier.  Familiar.

        It all happened very quickly, like the snap of fingers.  The guitar solo ended, and then the vocalist came in with, "Well I've been away forever, suicide crossin' my mind, but I never, never, never get so far behin–" and then Nicky turned off the record, muttering a quick apology.  But he didn't need to apologize.  From what I heard, it was a pretty cool sounding song.  Rock n' roll, yet bluesy and... Amazing.  I realized how much I missed hearing the music of Aerosmith now that I no longer got the pleasure of listening to it.  But as the few seconds of that song played, I felt nothing.  Nothing as in no pain.  I'm over it.  I've moved on.

        "No, no," I said slowly, "turn it back on for a second."

        "You sure?"  I nod.  Nicky obliges.  I listen to the rest of the song Nicky says is called Write Me A Letter.

        "That's... Really good," I say after he paused the record player when the song ended.  "Really good," I repeat.

        "I know," Nicky replies.  "Are... You okay?"

        "Yeah," I say with a nod.

        "Okay," he says back.  "Cool."  And then, because we were standing so close together, because it was there, because he wanted to, he kissed me.  And I kissed him back.  Now this kiss, is like last night.

        After awhile, Nicky studied my face at an arm's length.  He frowned at first, but then he grinned in a knowing sort of way.  I was confused.  "Since uh, this is... Good..." he says, trailing off.  "Would you... There's a show tonight?"