Monsters—from the Id!

Darren’s lying on the bed, eyes closed, legs dangling over the side. I memorize every detail of him: blond hair that looks like he meant it to be that messy, baggy t-shirt that’s still white this late in the day (how does he do that?), jeans that look like they’re a size too big. He’s so skinny, but it looks good on him. Besides, we’re only fourteen; we’re both probably going to change a lot before we get through puberty. Right now, he doesn’t know he’s my whole world, and he doesn’t know how much I want to tell him that.

“What if—” I whisper, and then I stop. Do I really want to do this? Do I want to let him know how I get this ache in my chest and this funny feeling in the pit of my stomach whenever I see him that tells me I just want to be cuddled up to him for hours?

Yes.

“What if,” I start again, still whispering, “I told you I really liked you?”

He turns to me, and there’s something in his eyes I’ve never seen before. “‘Like’ as in…that way?” he asks. My mouth’s suddenly dry, and there’s a big lump of…something…in my throat. I nod. “Prove it,” he says. “Meet me at the Scrambler.” He launches himself off the bed and out of my room. I hear him pound down the stairs, followed by the slam of the front door.

The Scrambler. I hate that ride, and Darren knows it. I’m always so dizzy when I get off it. The Tilt-a-Whirl and the Octopus don’t do that to me. Is it worth getting so nauseous I almost puke just to prove to Darren how I feel about him?

Again, yes.

Now I’m frantically searching for my wallet and making sure that I have enough money, then I’m running all the way back to the carnival and the ticket booth, and then I’m making a mad dash to the Scrambler before the ride starts again, handing the carny attendant my ticket even as my knees are shaking so hard I can barely stand up.

I don’t see Darren in the dusk. Shit. Did I blow it? Was Darren just fucking with me? Did I make a major mistake by telling him? Is he going to tell the whole school another boy hit on him?

Then I see him sitting in one of the seats already. I climb in next to him, and he gives me a long look. Finally he grins. “Took you long enough,” he says, and as I stare back at him, wondering if this is all real, he adds, “You wanted to know what I’d say if you said you really liked me.” He smiles, and I feel him take my hand. “What do you think?” I can’t look down. I’m drowning in the sea that’s his blue eyes. “I like you a lot, too, Andrew. I always have. I was just too chickenshit to say it.”

The carny comes over to check the bar on the seat. He sees our hands in the last rays of sunset and grins. “Hold on tight, guys,” he says.

Darren squeezes my hand tighter as the carny walks away, and as the ride starts, he says, “Hold on tight? Hell, I don’t ever want to let go.”

I’m still dizzy, but not because of the ride. It’s a good kind of dizzy.