See You Smile Read online

  I regard him with one eye closed,

  "Pfft!" I snort, "I'm not drunk, I'm just happy." I tell him and he chuckles,

  "Okay, but you still shouldn't be out here, anything could happen to you." I prop myself up on one elbow and poke him in the side, after several attempts because I can't actually tell which one of him is real,

  "You're out here." I accuse him, "Hey, since you're here, wanna sing with me?" He snorts again,

  "I can't sing, Jake, not really my thing." Is his sad reply,

  "Oh, sorry!" I hang my head with a pout. Shit, I made him sad, and I don't want him to be sad, I want him to smile,

  His finger hooks beneath my chin and lifts my head so he can see my lips. Mmm! I imagine my lips, on his lips. They look so soft. I close my eyes, what a perfectly lovely dream. I open my eyes again and smile broadly as a beautiful face with amazing bright blue eyes, comes into focus properly, if briefly.

  It's Cal, the man I've been watching for so long, but what is he doing out here on my porch?

  "Hi, Cal." I say, "I was just thinking about you. What are you doing out here, you shouldn't be out on your own so late." He rolls his eyes,

  "I just asked you that." He says,

  "You did?" I frown in confusion, I think I might be a little drunk, "I'm singing." I announce, trying very hard to pronounce the words properly for him to see what I'm saying.

  "Yes!" he nods, "We already established that." He moves his hands too, which I think might have been a bit of sign language.

  I catch one of his hands in mine and pull it open to examine it closely. He has long slender fingers. They're almost elegant,

  "Nice hands." I say, "I always knew you'd have nice hands."

  He pulls away with a gasp, then stands,

  "Come on, let's get you inside, you can't stay out here all night." He tells me as he attempts to get me to stand up too,

  "Why not?" I whine, "It's lovely out here, the moonlight is incredible, the sky is so clear and the company is amazing." I meet his eyes and they widen slightly, then he pulls me the rest of the way to standing and leads me, stumbling and tripping to my front door,

  "Keys?" he asks and I fumble in my pocket, frowning because the keys won't cooperate,

  "Why don't you ever smile, Cal?" I ask as I fish around in my pit of a pocket. He lifts my head to look directly at me with another frown,

  "What?" he asks in confusion and I realise he didn't see what I said. I reach out and touch his cheek and he gasps but doesn't pull away,

  "Smile!" I say, "You don't ever smile."

  "Y-yes I do." He tells me but I shake my head, then steady myself against the door frame as the action makes me slightly dizzy and the world is once more spinning alarmingly fast,

  "No you don't." I slur, rubbing my thumb across his bottom lip, "You smile with your mouth, but not…" my hand moves up to touch his eyebrow gently, "Not your eyes." He seems a little lost for words so I continue, "What makes you smile, Cal?" I ask him, gently drawing my finger down his cheek.

  He pulls away from me with a flicker of surprise and perhaps anger in his eyes. Oh god, I am so drunk, I don't even know what I'm doing. I think I just went one step too far with my next door neighbour. His quick movement put me off balance though. I fall forwards, but he catches me, his arms underneath mine, hoisting me to standing again,

  "Oh, my god, you are so wasted, Jake." Is that a slightly more genuine grin on his face,

  "Oh, look at you." I sigh, "That's a much better smile. Lights up your face." I lean close to him and his eyes widen and his breath hitches in his throat, "I'd like to make every part of you smile like that." I whisper softly.

  He gives an incredulous laugh then moves me away from him,

  "Keys!" he orders, holding his hand out for them, and I immediately go back to trying to find them,

  "They are in here somewhere, Cal." I tell him, "I just can't seem to locate them." I present my stretched open pocket to him and he steps away from me with his hands in the air in surrender,

  "Jake," he exclaims, laughing helplessly, "there is no way I am putting my hand in your pocket." I shrug, give him a goofy smile and a clumsy wink and fish out my keys,

  "Worth a try though." I tell him, then I groan and turn and lean my forehead against the door frame, "Holy shit, I'm so drunk."

  "Jake!" Cal exclaims in frustration and I realise I have turned away from him again,

  "Cal!" I say in the same tone as I turn back, "Please ignore everything I just said, because I am so very drunk, and I am going to be very hung over in the morning and probably won't remember a thing."

  "Really!" Cal says, sounding dubious and also a little relieved I think.

  I try to aim my key towards the key hole but miss,

  "Damn, who fitted the extra key hole? I can't see which hole to put it into." I huff. Cal chuckles and takes the key from me,

  "I sincerely hope that isn't something you usually have any problem with!" he mumbles, but the door is open and his face is turned from me as he attempts to stop me from falling inside so I can't really reply anyway.

  My feet refuse to work, so my body is inside but my feet aren't,

  "Come on Jake." Cal grunts, trying to pull me inside, "Stop messing around. I can't carry you."

  "It's an interesting thought though." I reply, flicking my eyebrows at him,

  He chuckles then grabs me before I tip over again because I am standing at a rather stupid angle. He pulls me inside a little too quickly and I over balance.

  Suddenly I'm lying on the floor, but something soft broke my fall,

  "Nnngh, Jake, gerroff me you great oaf." Cal grunts.

  Oh my god I'm lying on top of him. How the hell did that happen?

  Suddenly I realise I'm lying on top of him. Oh he's so soft and warm and he smells so good. He's struggling. Shit!

  I tip off him and lie on my back holding my head,

  "Shit Cal, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking drunk I don't know which way is up." He is going to leave now, because that was one drunken stumble too far.

  He shuffles to a sitting position and then I hear something that sends my spirits soaring. He's laughing: a full on genuine laugh. When I manage to focus on him he's wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. His laughter is infectious and a relief when I thought he'd be totally pissed. Soon I'm wiping tears from my eyes too.

  "Where were you to get so drunk, tonight, Jake?" he asks me as he helps me to a standing position then supports me with my arm around his shoulders as we walk into the kitchen,

  "I was at that birthday party, remember?" I remind him "The one you didn't want to go to," I don't hide the extreme disappointment in my tone, and I think I might be pouting. He simply nods his head in understanding, not reacting to anything else,

  "Right." He says, then frowns, "Did you drive home?" He sounds disapproving,

  "Pfft, no." I snort, although I can't actually remember how I got home, did Lawrence bring me? I seem to recall bending his ear about Cal while we were sitting in his car. Was he driving? "Lawrence drove me I think. I'll have to get my car tomorrow." I frown again and give him a curious look, "What are you doing up so late?" I face palm because god that sounds so lame, and I'm not his parent. Cal, however is looking extremely embarrassed and I don't really know why,

  "I, er, kind of saw you go out." He says, not meeting my eye, "And then I woke up about twenty minutes ago I noticed your car wasn't there so I looked over and saw you just lying on your porch. I didn't know what you were doing, but I thought I'd better come over and see if you needed any help."

  "Were you watching to see if I got home okay?" I ask, frowning. Because that's my job, isn't it? He snorts, but looks away awkwardly,

  "No!" he says forcefully, "I just woke up and happened to look out of the window." I don't believe him, but I don't have the brain power left to question him about it. Something is ringing in the back of my head though, like bells.

  "I did the same on Monday." I confess with a shrug, and he look
s at me funny, waiting for me to continue as he helps me up onto a stool at my kitchen bench, "When you didn't want a ride home I did my shopping then went back to the coffee shop and waited until you got on the bus, then I raced it back here and waited to check you got home safe."

  "You didn't need to do that." He looks a little taken aback rather than angry,

  "Yes I did," I reach out and touch his arm, "you're so young and on your own, I was worried about you."

  "I can look after myself." He frowns,

  "I know that, but everyone needs someone to watch over them." I nod, "Even the independent ones, in fact, those ones need a guardian angel more than anyone else."

  "Are you thinking of applying for the job, then, Jake?" Cal gives me such a direct look it scares and confuses me and I turn away because I can't meet his eye.

  There is an awkward silence as I try to process what just happened here. Are we confessing to each other? That can't be right, we hardly know each other. I think I might have come on a little strong out on the porch, but he is still here, when he could have just seen me inside and left. I don't want to push it though, and I am far too drunk to do anything else but fall into bed and sleep anyway.

  Why did I have to drink so much at Lawrence's? I don't usually get this wasted, but I was celebrating finishing my manuscript then we started talking about old times, and then I got talking about Cal and time and beers just got away from me.

  "Oh god, I'm getting too old for this." I groan as I hold my head in my hands. I lift my head up and face Cal as I continue, "I don't do this very often, I feel the need to point out," he raises his eyebrows, "I don't!" I exclaim indignantly. He gets up and walks across my kitchen,

  "Do you want me to make you a drink or something?" he asks, and I shake my head,

  "Just water, please. Glasses are in the cupboard above the kettle." I grimace, "You don't have to do this." He shrugs as he hands me a glass of water and I thank him. "I used to go out drinking all the time but now, it takes longer to recover from the hangover than it does to get drunk so it's not even worth it unless it's a special occasion."

  I groan and hold my head. It's starting to throb now and my stomach is not feeling it's best really,

  "I think I'm gonna throw up." I announce to the world in general,

  "Oh my god," Cal exclaims, "and you think I need someone to look after me?" he stands and helps me up, "Let's get you to the bathroom." I shake my head,

  "No! No! I'm fine now, just a wave, it'll pass." He lets go and I sit back down,

  "Holy shit."

  "Getting old, Cal," I start to ramble, because I know he is about to say it's time for him to go, but I want him to stay, even though the sensible part of me is screaming at me to let the guy go because it's three in morning. The drunk part of me wants to hold onto to him as long as I can, "I never thought it would ever happen to me, though." I continue,

  "Thought what would happen?" he asks,

  "Getting old." I repeat, "Fucking sucks." I curse, then apologise and burp and apologise again.

  I look up and I see he appears to be trying not to laugh. Well, good, I'll continue then, because he needs to laugh more,

  "When I was your age I could do this every night, well not every night, but more often and not have any kind of hang over. Now though, shit, I am gonna regret this when I get up in the morning, if I get up. Have you any idea what it feels like to get old?"

  "You are not old, Jake." Cal rolls his eyes and I want to kiss him for that compliment. What a lovely thing to say. What a lovely person to be saying such a lovely thing,

  "You wake up one morning and you have hair growing out of your ears, Cal, hair." I continue with an incredulous tone of voice. He snorts,

  "You are not old enough to have hair in your ears," he assures me, then he looks into my ear before he speaks again, "you don't have any hair in your ears,"

  "I found one." I sadly hold up a finger, "Just the other day. One, but that's enough. I pulled it out, but it's still there, waiting to grow back, hiding until it knows I'm not watching then pow, it explodes out my ear like some kinda bear factory mutant trying to set up shop in my earlobe. I'm old, past it, over the hill, past my expiry date, wrinkled and hairy. I'm shrinking." I wail and he giggles out loud. What an amazingly sweet sound,

  "No you're not." He assures me, "You're the same height as you were on Monday."

  "Well maybe I was exaggerating a little, but you just have no idea, Cal, really. When I was your age, what are you twenty, twenty one?"

  "Twenty one." He replies. I am momentarily thrown by this information. I audibly groan, for many reasons but mainly because I had guessed right. God he's just so beautiful and young, with so much life ahead of him, so many possibilities.

  "When I was twenty one I had all the answers. You'll know how that feels right? Because you're twenty one right now."

  "I don't have all the answers, Jake, I wish I did." He says sadly, suddenly not laughing anymore, "Sometimes I don't even know the question because I didn't hear it."

  "Oh that's good, that's funny," I laugh heartily, "You're funny, Cal." I see his serious expression though, and shake my head, immediately ceasing my laughter, "No, that's not funny. I don't think that's funny at all. It must really suck."

  "I get by!" he shrugs.

  "But you shouldn't have to get by, Cal, you should be out, enjoying life, having fun, finding someone to make you smile." I tell him. Cal regards me with a curious, unreadable expression on his face,

  "I think I already did." He whispers softly.

  Oh god, when did that happen? I haven't seen him with anyone. Maybe he met them on Monday. Why did I take my eyes off him for even a second?

  "Good," I nod, trying to sound pleased for him, "that's great." It's so not great that it's almost painful, but I can't let him see that, "When did you meet him/her/it," he frowns and bites his lip as he looks at me funny, "sorry," I grimace, "I can be a little nosy when I'm drunk, even when I'm not drunk, I assumed some things there that I had no right assuming."

  "If I was to define who I would be most interested in," he tells me, still with that curious, slightly confused look on his face, "it would be your first assumption: a he."

  "Oh, well that's just great." I say with more than a little enthusiasm, then I remember that he's trying to tell me he has met someone he likes and doesn't need me drooling over him, "I mean, not that I'm saying…you know, that we…..er…. I mean, I'm gay too." I blurt out,

  "You make that sound like a confession." He chuckles,

  "It's not, it's really not, but I just thought you might like to know that anyway," I ramble, "So you know you have an ally, just so you know." God, I am such a fool, such an old, drunk, damn stupid fool,

  "I already knew it." Cal says quietly and I raise my eyebrows,

  "You did?"

  "Yep, like I already know you're a writer because I've read all of your books."

  "You have?" My ears are ringing again, and the world is beginning to spin uncontrollably. I can't really form more than two word answers without danger of throwing up. I know I should be more interested in what he's saying. I just can't even keep my eyes focused,