Walk With Me Part 4

"So you're telling me you spent your afternoon at a wedding where the bride and groom got covered in s.h.i.+t?"

"I wouldn't say 'covered.' More like it was liberally applied. We all got at least a little p.o.o.p shrapnel. That's why I don't have my jacket anymore, but I thought my pants were fine." He held his pants out. "Speaking of which, I think they're clean other than a little mud around the ankles, but I don't want to take a chance and get your bed dirty. Do you have some sweats or something I can borrow?"

Without so much as a leer, I nodded and pointed to my dresser. "Yup. I have a bunch of stuff in there. Help yourself."

Seth pulled on a pair of pants, started the movie, and hopped onto the bed. "I haven't seen this movie in forever." He sat down so close our shoulders were almost touching. I tensed up at first, not sure how to react, but then I forced myself to relax and enjoy his closeness, even if it was platonic. "You're going to love it," he said.

"It's a movie that inspired the s.h.i.+ttiest wedding of all time," I said. "I have no doubt it'll slide right up to the top of my rewatch list."

Chapter 4.

Eli Block.

WHEN PEOPLE PEOPLE hear "Spring Break" certain images come to mind. Often they involve a beach, copious alcohol, bad decision-making, and hopefully nudity. The start to my spring break involved taking in the Temple Beth Shalom preschool Pa.s.sover play. Wild times. hear "Spring Break" certain images come to mind. Often they involve a beach, copious alcohol, bad decision-making, and hopefully nudity. The start to my spring break involved taking in the Temple Beth Shalom preschool Pa.s.sover play. Wild times.

All right, so to go over the reason I spent my spring break at home and at temple. It wasn't because I was lacking in friends. It wasn't because my friends were all going home too. It wasn't because I couldn't chip in for my share of the gas and the motel room with two beds shared by ten people. It wasn't because I had ever attended the play since I had finished preschool, which was saying something because my father was the rabbi who started the congregation.

It was because-drum roll, please-I wanted to see Seth Cohen. Shocking, I know.

My second semester of college differed from my first semester. I still focused more on my music cla.s.ses than I did on the academic ones. I still watched a lot of p.o.r.n. I still hung out with my friends and partied. I still flirted shamelessly with just about anybody with two b.a.l.l.s and a d.i.c.k, but I no longer meant the flirting to result in any version of the horizontal mambo. That hadn't gone well when I'd arrived on campus and jumped into the "It's college. s.e.x! I can have s.e.x!" pool with both feet and a raging hard-on.

I wasn't sure if it was because I chose the worst lays of all time or if it was because of what Seth had told me-that s.e.x and love and emotions are connected. Either way, celibacy wasn't a realistic long-term lifestyle choice for me, I knew that. But my heart was stuck on Seth. So for a while at least, I figured if my body couldn't have him, I'd lay off the mission to get laid by any willing comer.

Over winter break, I'd intellectually slotted Seth in the "friend" category, which meant I'd chilled out on the come-ons. But no amount of internal reminders could change the feelings I'd been harboring for years. And those feelings weren't relegated to a desire to see him naked and lick every inch of his skin. I genuinely liked the guy, and I wanted to hang out with him. Which was why I sat through Friday night services on my first night back in town and then stuck around to watch a bunch of three- and four-year-olds put on their rendition of the Pa.s.sover story.

"Eli!" Seth said excitedly as he stepped down from the bimah after services ended. "Welcome home."

I stepped forward to give him a hug, but a bunch of other congregants were closer and they closed in on him like a wave. Apparently everyone wanted to wish him a chag sameach-happy holiday. My father was making the rounds too, but I'd seen him when I'd arrived that afternoon, so it wasn't him I was anxious to greet. My mother gave me an amused smile, kissed my cheek, and then wandered off to help the kids get ready for the play.

"I'm glad you're here," Seth said when he finally managed to quell his rabid fans enough to make his way to me.

"Are you a rock star or a rabbi?" I asked him, feeling a little grumpy about all the people he smiled at and hugged and basically anything else he did that resulted in him paying attention to anybody but me. Reasonable? No. But it was how I felt.

Seth chuckled and pulled me into a loose hug. "See? That's why I missed having you around. You're the only one who not so subtly gives me a hard time."

I could have made a lewd comment about the type of hard hard time I wanted to give him, but I leaned into him instead. When he gave me a little squeeze, I clutched his s.h.i.+rt, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply, shuddering as his scent flowed through me. "I missed you too," I whispered. time I wanted to give him, but I leaned into him instead. When he gave me a little squeeze, I clutched his s.h.i.+rt, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply, shuddering as his scent flowed through me. "I missed you too," I whispered.

He let me hold on to him until I stopped trembling. I forced my eyes open and gazed at him.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

I nodded and swallowed hard.

"How's your ankle?"

I tilted the corner of my mouth up. "Like I told you in half a dozen e-mails and just as many phone calls, I'm all healed up."

He shrugged sheepishly. "I worry."

"Yeah, old man, I know."

He rolled his eyes, shook his head, and huffed. "Are you staying for the play?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," I said. "It's been getting rave reviews."

He ignored my sarcasm. "The kids are adorable in their costumes. They're a little nervous, but mostly excited." His eyes sparkled. "You'll love it."

What I loved was his hand on my lower back as he steered us out of the sanctuary and into the social hall. There was a little stage on one end, and folding chairs arranged in rows took up the rest of the room.

"Do you have lots of fun plans while you're here?"

My plan was to follow him around like a lost puppy hoping to get a pat on the head.

"I'm going to catch up with some friends, spend time with my parents." I shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. "And anything else that comes up. You know. Whatever."

Seth arched an eyebrow and looked at me like I was amusing. "Wow. Well, with all those cool guy plans, do you have time to grab a late dinner?"

"Yes!" I said eagerly. "When? Tonight? Yes!"

"If your parents don't mind me hijacking you on your first night home, tonight would be great. I was too busy to eat before services, and by the time the play ends, it'll be past my dinnertime."

"You have a dinnertime?" I snorted. "What am I saying? Of course you have a dinnertime. Do you normally hit the cafeteria buffets at five thirty with the other senior citizens?"

He punched my shoulder.

"Ow!" I rubbed the not actually injured area. "You hit hard for an old man."

"I'll see you after the play, Eli," he said. Then he ruffled my hair and joined my father next to the stage.

I found a seat and hoped the play would start soon so that it could end soon and I could be alone with Seth. It didn't take long before my dad and Seth climbed onstage, talked a little about the preschool, thanked the teachers, and then introduced the kids. After that, they stepped away and I prepared myself to be bored.

I totally wasn't.

Seth was right about my loving the play. It was hilarious. Seriously. It was like the Sat.u.r.day Night Live Sat.u.r.day Night Live writers had scripted the production. Okay, so, to summarize the high points: writers had scripted the production. Okay, so, to summarize the high points: The pharaoh's daughter tripped over her robe and dropped baby Moses.

The pharaoh and grown-up Moses inexplicably got into a sword fight using their staffs. I had watched The Princess Bride The Princess Bride a time or ten since Seth had introduced me to it, and I kept waiting for one of them to say, "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." a time or ten since Seth had introduced me to it, and I kept waiting for one of them to say, "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die."

The parting of the Red Sea was like a wave gone bad, with dozens of children throwing their arms up in the air and then collapsing to the ground.

And the crowning jewel on what had to be the best play ever was when a group of kids came up to the front, each of them holding a letter. They lined up intending, I a.s.sumed, to spell "chag sameach." But at that age, they'd have been lucky to spell "happy holiday" in English, let alone Hebrew, so instead the order of their letters spelled "s.h.a.g cam ache."

I had to blink a few times to confirm it didn't say "c.u.m" because that would have made total sense: you s.h.a.g, he c.u.ms, you ache. Thankfully the kids cleared it up when each of them screamed out their own p.r.o.nunciation of the Hebrew words for happy holiday. By the time they got off stage, I was wiping away tears of laughter.

It was close to eight o'clock by then, which was late for all the young families, so they pretty much gathered up their kids and bolted. I was in full support of the fast evacuation because I figured with fewer people around to bombard Seth, we'd be able to leave sooner and I'd have him all to myself.

"Eli, are you ready to go?"

I had been so busy s.h.i.+fting from foot to foot impatiently and staring at Seth that I hadn't noticed my mother walking up. "Huh?" I said without moving my attention from soft brown eyes, a warm smile, and perfectly formed hands. Really, Seth had the best hands. Even from across the room, they made me tingle in fun places.

"Didn't you tell me you were done with this?" she asked.

"Huh?"

She sighed. "Eli Block. I'm your mother. That means you can at least have the courtesy to look at me when I'm speaking to you."

It was hard to tear my gaze away from Seth but I managed to do it. With great reluctance. "What?" I asked, stretching out the word to express my frustration.

She gave me the look. You know the one. The mom look that means, "Oh, no, you didn't."

"Sorry, Mom." I looked down and rubbed the toe of my shoe over the floor. "What were you saying?"

"It's okay. I know you were preoccupied." She threaded her arm with mine. "Are you ready to go home or are you going to keep watching Seth?"

"I wasn't...." Yeah, I stopped midsentence. That lie was so obvious it would have been ridiculous and insulting to try to sell it.

"Last time you were home, you told me you were moving on from this crush," she reminded me.

"We're friends, Mom." I let out a deep breath, slumped my shoulders, and chewed on my bottom lip. "That's all."

"Uh-huh," she said disbelievingly.

"I didn't say that's what I want. I'm just saying that's all there can ever be and I'm okay with it." I smiled and hoped it looked genuine. "We're having dinner tonight. As friends."

"Eli, honey." She looked so worried. "Pining away for someone who doesn't return your feelings isn't healthy. You're nineteen. There are lots of fish in the sea. I wish you'd do a little fis.h.i.+ng."

It was a terrible a.n.a.logy because I wasn't outdoorsy and because the smell of fresh fish had always made me queasy. I went with it anyway.

"At some point I'll go find a guy to hook," I a.s.sured her. "But for right now, I'm happy hanging out with Seth."

"I've chatted with several people who've known him for a long time," my mother said. I automatically translated the words to their literal meaning-she had been nosing around about Seth's past. "He's had long-term girlfriends, Eli. Not boyfriends. Girlfriends Girlfriends." Translation-"Seth Cohen is a breeder. Stay away."

"I know," I said.

"He isn't gay," she clarified her earlier statement. Not that I needed the clarification. The meaning had come through loud and clear.

"I know, Mom. I get it." I crossed my arms over my chest. "Is there some reason I can't have straight friends?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You know that's not what I'm saying."

No, it wasn't. I knew her concern wasn't about the friends.h.i.+p. She knew me inside and out, so I had no hope of hiding anything from her, least of all something as profound as my feelings for Seth. And that was what worried her.

"Good. Then we don't have an issue. Seth is my friend. Nothing more. And I have no problem with that."

She didn't believe me. I didn't believe me. But I think both of us hoped it'd be true eventually.

FOR THE THE next week, I spent more nights with Seth than I did away from him. Two of the nights-Wednesday and Thursday-were the first and second Pa.s.sover seders, so they included my family and a few dozen other people. But the rest of the time we hung out, just the two of us, and I loved it. I was leaving early Sunday to go back to school, so spending Sat.u.r.day night with Seth was imperative. He seemed truly disappointed when he told me he couldn't make it. next week, I spent more nights with Seth than I did away from him. Two of the nights-Wednesday and Thursday-were the first and second Pa.s.sover seders, so they included my family and a few dozen other people. But the rest of the time we hung out, just the two of us, and I loved it. I was leaving early Sunday to go back to school, so spending Sat.u.r.day night with Seth was imperative. He seemed truly disappointed when he told me he couldn't make it.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could, but I'm working on Sat.u.r.day."

"Working doing what?" I asked. "Is it something I can do too?"

"I'm officiating a wedding so no, I don't think so. Not unless you know another family member who's going to extend a secret invitation."

The reference to the last wedding we'd experienced together made my ankle throb with remembered pain. I wedged my phone between my ear and shoulder and rubbed the spot that used to hurt.

"I think I'm throwing in the towel on my wedding-crasher career," I said. "It's too dangerous."

He snickered. "I don't blame you."

I tossed myself across my bed and asked, "So what are you doing after?"

"After the wedding?" He sounded confused.

"Yeah."

"Nothing. Just going home."

"Cool." I sat up excitedly. "I'll come over and we can hang out."

He paused for a second and I expected him to turn me away, but instead he said, "Are you sure? It might be pretty late."

I punched my hand in the air in a silent gesture of success. "I'm a night owl," I said. "What time's the wedding start?"

"It's supposed to start at seven, which means seven thirty at the earliest. But I'm not staying for the reception, so I should be able to get out of there by nine."

I scoffed. "Only in old man land is nine o'clock on a Sat.u.r.day night considered late."

"Hey, don't knock old man land," he said playfully. "We have great benefits."

"Oh yeah?" I asked, loving the easy banter that had become common between us. "Like what?"

"Dental," he answered, deadpan.

"Ooooh, dental. That does sound exciting. But how's your prescription drug plan? Does it cover the basics?"

Without missing a beat he said, "You mean Bengay? Yeah, it's covered. Denture cream too."

"Aaaand now we're back to the dental. I think I'm starting to detect a trend slash obsession."