True Letters from a Fictional Life by Kenneth Logan Page B

the only door, as far as I could tell, people were coming and going through.
    After a little while, Topher walked out of the kitchen and glanced toward us. He saw me sitting with the girls, and he didn’t smile or nod or anything. He just walked purposefully to the garage door, jacketless, stuck his head out for a second or two, and then, looking very serious, walked back into the kitchen.
    I squeezed Theresa’s shoulder and said, “I’m going to go get a beer.”
    â€œOne,” she emphasized.
    Kim and I glanced at each other as I left. Her eyebrows furrowed, but she stayed put.
    Topher was up on the counter again, but when he saw me, he slid off, stepped away from his friends, and handed me one of the two green bottles he held.
    â€œThanks,” I said. His eyes were deep chestnut, and hisbrown hair curled at the ends.
    â€œI’m Topher,” he said. At first he was shaking my hand, and then he was just holding it. To distract myself from the warmth of his grip, I sipped from my beer.
    â€œJames,” I managed. “I’m James.” He finally let go of my hand.
    â€œYou’re friends with Kim, huh?”
    â€œYup.” I was trying to play it cool, but his grin made me smile and that made him smile even more. I held the bottle up to the light and pretended to examine it. He was about my height, and he wore a silver ring on the middle finger of his left hand. “So, Kim says you guys are in the theater, huh?”
    â€œYeah, we’re in a production of Hamlet this spring. It’s an adaptation, not the whole thing. I’m Hamlet, actually. We all agreed not to talk about rehearsals or anything tonight, but now we’re running out of things to say, so we’ve resorted to talking about books. Favorite books. You have one?”
    â€œSteinbeck’s East of Eden ,” I said automatically.
    â€œHoly smokes!” He grabbed my arm. “Me, too! I just said that a minute ago! East of Eden !”
    â€œNo kidding.” I laughed. He wore cologne that drew me closer to him than most guys would’ve considered normal. He talked for a little while about how much he liked Old Sam and Lee, but I wasn’t really listening. He was poised like he might do a handspring at any moment, and his skin was perfect. I realized he was watching me watching him, so I looked at the linoleum.
    â€œHave you seen the film?” I heard him ask.
    â€œThere’s a film?”
    He put his hand on my back for a second and said, “James Dean’s in it, dude. You probably wouldn’t like it as much as I do.”
    â€œNever seen it,” I admitted, and fixed my gaze on the wallpaper, which was covered in horses and buggies. “Weird wallpaper,” I muttered.
    â€œYup,” he agreed. “Then again, I’ve never been a fan of wallpaper.”
    I drained my beer, considered the empty bottle for a few seconds, and then asked, “Can I have another one of these?”
    He pulled one from the fridge and offered me a lighter to open it, but I popped the cap with my pirate key. I probably shouldn’t take such pride in that trick.
    â€œWhat, do you have buried treasure?” Topher asked, nodding at the key as I returned it to my pocket.
    â€œYeah, but I can’t talk about it. You smoke?” I asked.
    â€œNah, I just carry the lighter because it comes in handy.”
    â€œFor real?”
    â€œYup, yup.”
    â€œSo helpful.”
    â€œWell, you never know when the right person’s going to come along asking for a light or an opener.”
    I gulped from my new bottle. “He hasn’t come along yet, huh?”
    â€œNope.” He laughed. He’d caught my use of the pronoun.“No, he hasn’t come along yet.” He sipped and looked at me sideways. “But sometimes I’m not sure. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.”
    I guzzled nervously again, then reminded myself to slow down, to stop