Latent2

What you can't have

by Kevin McFadden

Here is the exposition:

Nathan and Mark went skinny dipping together when they were ten, having known each other not quite a year. The creek ran through the woods in the back of the park that sat adjacent to their neighborhood.

"Jump in, Mark, jump in! Are you scared? Come on, jump! Are you scared? Chicken! Chicken. Buck-buck-bawww! Jump in, Mark!"

They walked into these woods quite often in the summertime. The small, slender Mark would lead the way, always wanting to discover new paths and clearings, while the larger, overweight Nathan would follow.

Throwing off his shorts, Mark quickly jumped into the water, grimacing. The icyness of it seized every pore in his body. Gasping, his head surfaced for only a second, his arms clenched tightly to his body for warmth, before Nathan's hands clenched his shoulders, pushing him back under. He struggled away, rising again, this time able to splash a sheet of water onto Nathan's grinning face. They giggled through the ensuing water war.

When not swimming, Mark would lie on the banks, Nathan skipped rocks, they hunted for crawldads, sometimes catching frogs and even dissecting them with Nathan's swiss army knife. In their endless childhood the afternoons would often become very hot and the days very long.

"It's getting dark, we gotta get back for dinner. You can eat over at my house if you want."

In the following year, it was Mark's idea to join the middle school band. Nathan followed, though he thought it would only be for social rejects. Mark played the saxophone, practiced often, but never made it to first chair while Nathan, refusing any instrument besides the drums, found quite a talent in it.

Band geeks, band fags, whatever else, Nathan heard people remark in passing. They would cheer when the football team came out. People only stared now, some laughing, some bored, some looking out into nowhere. Mr. Atkins looked at Nathan specifically above his directing, squinting, holding his hand aloft. Quiet down, damnit . . .

The feel of the sticks, the rhythm he could create, the sheer aspect of hitting the drum, the channeling of anger it allowed--

Nathan did not quiet down, however, only getting louder and drowning out other sections of the band. It would be okay. First pep rally ever, one can get nervous. He pounded and pounded as Mr. Atkins glared.

these drove Nathan to play as often as he could and gain first chair.

But he decided to give up band in high school because it was only for dorks and Mark, who was never a very good musician,

He threw his saxophone to the ground, stared at it for a second, and then kicked it away from himself. Nathan, who had been passing by the practice room, walked in.

"You alright?"

He shook his head. "I'm fucking quitting. You're right, we need to get out of this. I'm sick of this shit."

Nathan patted Mark's shoulder. "Ms. Green at the high school is a fucking cunt, anyway."

quit as well. Nathan still played his drums, especially in times of stress,

"Goddamnit, Nathan. We're trying to sleep, quit banging on those things, now!"

and he liked to talk about forming a band some time but he never did so. Instead, he followed Mark once again when Mark joined the school's cross country team. Here, Mark truly found his niche while Nathan remained unfulfilled,

"So, did you ever make it to the finish line? I got tired of waiting for your heavy ass."

but they stuck with it.

"Yeah, your mom was there waiting for this heavy dick."

Nathan worked out frequently, in lieu of beating his drums every day, and became much physically stronger--turning all of his fat into muscle until not many would believe that he had ever been overweight--but Mark's smaller frame allowed him to be a far superior runner.

Though they both did a fair amount of dating in middle school and high school, and neither one was a virgin by the time they had reached sophomore year,

Terrific, thought Nathan. Two minutes long, no passion, barely satisfying. She roled over, her alcohol-ridden mind ready for sleep. He dressed himself and went downstairs where the party was still pounding. Mark, slobberingly drunk at this point, ran up to him to ask about his activities. When Nathan told him, he began to holler:

"Nathan is deflowered!" in triumph. Smiling Mark looked up at Nathan and, with a "Congratulations" he handed Nathan his bottle of whiskey. Fuck it, Nathan thought. Fuck it, and he took a long drink.

it wasn't until their junior year that Mark finally entered into a fairly serious romantic relationship with his old friend, Kim.

"I've already loved you for so long," he told her. "I never imagined that you felt the same way." She smiled and kissed him again.

Nathan found love not too long after. The woman he entered into a relationship with was named Heidi. They double dated quite often

"We see too much of Mark and Kim," she told him. "We never get any time alone anymore, it seems." He groaned into the receiver.

and one weekend, when Mark's parents were out of town, the four of them spent the whole weekend in that house, drinking and making love and sleeping until one o'clock

"Where's my camera?" Mark drunkenly stumbled up from the lawn chair and ran inside. Nathan and the girls laid still, relaxed. Kim giggled.

and having breakfast and making love again, watching television, joking, laughing, drinking,

He came rushing back out and asked, "Who wants to take a picture. I want to be in a picture. Who wants to take it?" Heidi volunteered, lazily dragging herself from the chair as Mark jumped down into it. He sat there in between Nathan and Kim, grinning, an arm around either one.

"Smile!" Heidi called.

dancing, going out into the backyard, relaxing in the warm July sun,

Nathan managed a casual smile while Mark grinned wide and Kim giggled. Then, the sudden, brief flash of light came and was gone.

making love, drinking, and knowing that the crash would come but that was a lifetime away,

Mark turned to Nathan, still grinning. "This is fucking awesome, man. This is fucking paradise. It ain't never gonna get like this again!"Nathan nodded in agreement.

the only thing one could do now was to sit back and revel in one's complete satisfaction.

After that one weekend, they began spending more time with their girlfriends and had fallen almost out of touch with each other. Now, as the end of their senior year was fast approaching, these were the times for which they both longed to reminisce. So when Mark's parents were out of town again for the weekend, and since Nathan and Heidi had been broken up for over a month and he and Kim were in an ambiguous phase between breaking up and getting back together, he proposed to Nathan an evening of complete male bonding. The plan was to get drunk, watch some action flicks and some sports, and talk about all their old times.

"It'll be great, man. Just be guys--be as completely stereotypically male as we can possibly be. Whaddaya say?"

Nathan accepted the invitation.

Here begins our story:

When Nathan arrived at Mark's house, a basketball game--Detroit vs. Chicago--was on the television. They sat down, both with a can of Budweiser--which had been procured, along with a bottle of Jim Beam, by an older friend of Mark's--and they watched the game and talked basketball for a while.

"I heard Jordan might retire again, soon," Nathan said.

"Fucker better. I'm getting tired of his stupid-ass face all over the TV."

"You think they'll go again this year?"

"No way. Someone's gotta stop 'em this time."

"I don't know, man. Nobody could stop 'em before."

"Shut the fuck up, man. They're not gonna win again."

"Hey, I don't want them to win, either. I'm just saying that it's gonna be tough for anyone to beat 'em"

The game ended with the Bulls victorious, despite Nathan's howlings and the throwing of Mark's empties towards the screen. Not feeling the effects of alcohol quite yet, they decided to drive down to the pool hall and shoot a few games there. The pool hall, called "Floyd's" was just about a fifteen minute drive from Mark's house and was located between a pizza shop and a bar. The perfect setting for a place that took its entire business from bored teenagers or lower class adult males. Thick clouds of cigarette smoke and blaring music--a mix of classic rock and country--were the staples of "Floyd's" ambiance. It wasn't a particularly rough place, but there were only certain types of people who could enter and stay.

When Mark and Nathan entered that night, they were greeted by a few pairs of suspicious eyes but they moved and dressed natural enough to appease the stares--they had been there before. Some of their classmates were there but no tight friends. Mark lit up a cigarette and led Nathan to a table towards the back. They began playing and Nathan watched as Mark convincingly won the first two games.

"I'm bustin' your sorry ass all up," he said just after sinking the eight ball. Corner pocket, just as called.

Nathan gave him a slightly cold stare, only saying, "Rack 'em up again. I break this time."

Mark did as he was told with a bit of a smirk. Determined, Nathan leaned closer to the table and sent the balls flying with a powerful break. The three ball landed in the corner so Nathan positioned himself for his next shot. He looked with determined concentration at the table before him, hitting the balls with strength that was excessive for the task at hand. After a short time, he was down to only the eight ball while Mark had several still left.

Just before Nathan was about to shoot what was probably his final shot, Mark lifted his head, saying, "Nathan, look who's coming over here."

She was wearing a mini-skirt and too much make-up but that was her usual style. In fact, she didn't stick out from the few women who actually came into "Floyd's" on a Friday night. You should never waste your time on pool trash, Mark always used to say to Nathan. Nathan wanted to get back to his game but it was obvious that Alicia had him singled out.

"Hey, Nathan, how ya doin'?" she called before she had arrived at their table. Nathan didn't turn around to look at Mark, but he knew he was grinning. He greeted her when she came up next to him and leaned on the table. With only a slight turn of her head she said "Hi" to Mark who responded in kind.

"Shootin' some pool?" she asked Nathan.

"It would appear so."

"Who's winning?"

Mark piped in, "Nathan's kickin' my ass, presently."

"Oh yeah? Well aren't you just the stud?"

"He certainly is," Mark called.

"I guess," was Nathan's response. He looked out the window, away from Alicia who was looking up at his face and, with her next question, grasping his arm, coyly.

"So what are you doing after the pool?"

"I don't know. We're just gonna watch some movies or something," Nathan answered, dismissingly.

"Why do you ask?" Mark pressed her.

"Well, I'm just looking for something to do, since my boyfriend's being a real cock. I'm gonna break up with him pretty soon. He's such a fucking loser. I need someone who knows how to treat me right, you know?"

The wailing of Garth Brook's voice was the only response that she got. After looking to Nathan until it was obvious that he would not speak up, she proceeded, "So do you think I can join you guys in your movies?"

"No. It's kinda a guy thing, you know?"

"Aw, come on," she insisted. Nathan refused to respond again, so she turned to Mark. "You guys can't include me? You just gonna cut me out like that?"

Mark shrugged. "Sorry, it is kinda a guy's night."

She then looked to Nathan with a more serious expression. "Can I talk to you alone for a little? Will you excuse us, Mark?"

"Look, Alicia--" Nathan began but was interrupted by Mark.

"Sure, sure. Go ahead, Nathan. I've gotta piss, anyway." With that, Mark shot a final smirking glance at Nathan before leaving Nathan alone at the table with Alicia. Nathan, who had kept his pool stick in hand until now, rested it on the table, folded his arms across his chest and turned toward her.

"Alright. What do you want?"

"Nathan," she reached to touch him. Nathan didn't brush her off, but he didn't respond in any positive way, either. "I have to tell you that I've been doing a lot of thinking since we've been apart. I was so jealous of Heidi the whole time you were with her. I kept thinking that we could have still been together if I weren't so dumb to let you get away from me. I knew that if we could just be together again, I could make it work. I'd be so good to you, baby. Nobody since you has meant anything."

"And I meant something."

She looked at him for a moment. She looked soft, almost broken, which was unusual for her. "Yes."

He looked away. Mark hadn't gone to the bathroom, but he stood talking to another kid from the high school. Nathan gave him a look intended to make him come back. Mark smiled, shrugged, and approached again. "Look, Mark's coming back. I can't see you tonight."

As Mark approached, she finally surrendered, jumping quickly out of the soft expression she had worn, just before. Smiling in her flirty way, she said, "Alright, but let me give you my new number. If you change your mind, give me a call. Or call me sometime later this weekend."

She grabbed a napkin that was sitting nearby and wrote down her numbers. "I'll put my pager number on here, too," she said, while writing, her butt thrust purposefully in Nathan's direction. Nathan looked at Mark, who was grinning at Alicia's back. She handed Nathan the napkin and, after a goodbye that involved touching Nathan again on the chest and arms, she walked away. Nathan focused back to the game, avoiding Mark's gaze.

"Don't fucking say it."

"Now what could I possibly say about your ex-girlfriend?"

"That's right--ex-girlfriend. I don't have anything to do with her anymore. It was before Heidi, I wasn't being quite as selective. It was a mistake. A horrible, horrible mistake."

Mark made no more comments, but they both knew that he didn't have to. He kept the smirk, though. Nathan tried to brush these annoyances off and he stroked forcefully into the cue-ball. It ricocheted off in the wrong direction, though, completely missing the eight ball and landing in the corner pocket.

"Fuck!" Nathan shouted, throwing his stick onto the table.

"Wow, I guess that means I win again, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess it fucking does, doesn't it?"

"Hey calm down, man." Mark put his stick back into its place and then took Nathan's off the table and did the same. "Let's just get out of here, alright? Go back to my house, watch some explosions, some shooting, some killing, maybe some skin-a-max."

Nathan ran his hands across his face. "Alright, let's go."

As they drove back to Mark's house, the conversation was mostly nonexistent. In fact, since Mark's car radio had been broken for months, there was absolute silence in the car until Mark, glancing occasionally at Nathan, began in a low voice, "Hey, there's something I should really tell you about Alicia."

"Goddamnit, would you let it go?"

"No, I'm serious, man, there's something I gotta tell you."

Nathan looked at him, only for a second, before turning his gaze back to the lights that cascaded by his window. "Alright, what?"

"I never told you this before. I probably should have, though. Well, I went to this party the summer before our sophomore year--I forget why you couldn't make it, but it was at Tim's house. Most of the cross-country guys. It was only about a week before you and Alicia started going out. Anyway, everyone was just getting completely trashed. I wasn't as bad as some, but I was pretty gone. Well, Alicia was there, drunk off her ass, and she came up to me and started pawing me and all. And, well, we ended up sleeping together that night. I was going to tell you and then you started going out with her and I couldn't tell you that I'd fucked your girlfriend, just a week before you started dating. I always felt bad about not telling you, though."

Mark glanced quickly to Nathan, but mostly kept his eyes on the road in front of him. Nathan held his gaze out the window.

He pounded into her. She was sprawled out beneath him, grasping for the bedposts, for the ceiling, for his chest, screaming his name, her face contracted, her entire body tight. He was solid, passionate, rhythmic, even violent but that was his entire demeanor. She seemed to almost ask for it that way. Both of their bodies were covered in sweat, her hair was thrown wildly about, she was dirty. He kept in the same rhythm--it reminded him, oddly, of his drums.

When it was over, he laid next to her, still leaning over her in a commanding position. He kissed her breasts and she moaned with a smile.

Bringing his head up, he authoritarily asked, "Was it good?"

"Damn, you were wonderful."

"Was I better than Mark?"

"Baby, you my one and only. Don't think about him." She reached up to touch his face and he caught her wrist.

"Was I better than Mark." He leaned further over her, his face imposing and alive with both passion and anger.

Her eyes widened with fear, and with a tinge of excitement. "Yes."

Nathan turned his eyes back to Mark, who was now focused solely on the road ahead of him. "Don't worry. I knew."

Mark looked at him in disbelief. "You knew?"

Nathan nodded. Streetlights still zoomed past the car--flashes of light that would illuminate everything about Nathan and Mark, and then, suddenly, be gone.

"How did you know?"

"Tim told me."

"Before or after you started going out with her?"

"Before."

They were now just pulling back into Mark's neighborhood where the streetlights were not quite as brilliant, hiding Nathan's face from Mark. Mark chose to say nothing more on the subject of Alicia.

Once back inside the house they searched the television until they found a Dirty Harry movie, which they watched as they passed the Jim Beam back and forth. Nathan had a naturally higher tolerance than Mark so, after about an hour of drinking very slowly and sporadically, Mark was definitely under the influence while Nathan sat back, calm and collected.

"Friends since fifth grade," Mark mused, "and here we are over seven years later, getting drunk together and you're still my best friend, man."

Nathan chuckled a little but only said, "Yeah. You too, man."

"I'm serious, alright? I know I'm a little drunk, but you're the best kinda friend a guy could have. I know what I'm fucking saying, alright? You'd do anything for me and I'd do anything for you. And I--"

Mark took another swig from the bottle.

"--I'm the luckiest guy in the world for having a friend like you."

"Thanks."

"Remember the cruel days of middle school?" Nathan laughed at this and Mark laughed a little in his own drunkenness, but he would not be entirely deterred from his point. "The shift into high school? We stuck together the whole time. That's what friends do. And we're going to keep doing it, too."

"The cruel days of middle school," Nathan half-mocked him. "I remember all the times someone was trying to kick your sorry ass and me always bailing it out."

"Oh, come on, asshole, that didn't happen all the time. Once or twice, maybe, but that's exactly what I'm talking about. We're friends, man. Real friends." Mark took another swig from the bottle, then stood up and handed it to Nathan. "I've gotta go take a piss. I'll see you in a minute."

Mark walked out of the room, Nathan tossed the bottle back, feeling the sting of whisky in his throat, and turned his eyes to the television.

"Let him go, Jerry," he called out. It was the middle of the day, between classes, but Nathan stood still, unwavering in the warm September afternoon.

Jerry, who had a hold of Mark's shirt and was pushing him into the outside wall of the school did not release his grip, instead looking at Nathan and then saying to Mark, "Is this your fat-ass boyfriend, here, coming to save you?"

Mark, who in his seventh grade mind was too proud to cry, was being practically broken as he spoke with threatening tears, "Fuck you."

"Oh yeah?" Jerry tightened his grip. "Well, I'm gonna show you what we do to faggots around here." Jerry sank his fist into Mark's stomach and Mark doubled over, finally crying openly. Nathan charged up to Jerry, tackling him and throwing him away from the wall of the school. It was easy as Nathan outweighed Jerry by about twenty pounds. After rolling a few times, Jerry quickly stood back up but, knowing he was out-matched, walked away, taunting them.

"You fairies just better watch the fuck out. I'll get both of you faggots later."

"Fuck off, asshole," Nathan called after him. Mark was sitting, leaning against the school, trying as hard as he could not to cry.

"I'm sorry about that, Nathan. Thank you. I'm sorry," he managed to say between heaves and sobs.

"It's alright, man. What the fuck was he after you for?"

"I couldn't help it, damnit. I'm not a fag, I swear to God I'm not."

"I know you're not, man. What the fuck happened."

"I couldn't help it," Mark took a moment to collect himself as much as he possibly could. "We were in the locker room after gym class. My dick was just . . . I don't know why it was. I swear I'm not a fag. I swear I'm not. It just happened, I don't know why. I didn't want it to happen." He tried to calm himself but the tears kept coming.

"It's alright." Nathan looked out into the sky as he spoke to Mark. "I know you're not a fag. Just stop fucking crying, alright. Stop fucking crying and let's get back inside before some teacher comes out here."

It took Mark a minute but he eventually stopped crying. Still trembling, he walked back inside with Nathan. They were both late for class.

The Dirty Harry movie was over and some movie with Sylvester Stallone had come on but neither Nathan nor Mark were paying attention. The bottle was over half-empty and once again in Mark's hands. He started talking about Kim.

"I know we can work it out. I know we can. She doesn't think so, though. Or she sort of does. But she's afraid to try, or something."

Nathan listened, occasionally nodding or agreeing, but mostly just listening.

"I mean, I really really think I love her. I really think so. I thought I did before but I don't think I did. I didn't love her like I do now. Because, you know, you always love what you know you can't have, you know what I mean?"

"Yeah."

"I can't have her and suddenly I'm feeling all this stuff that I've never felt before. And I just want to have her back again and be like we were and, you know, make love, you know, like we used to. I wish it could be like it was that weekend we all spent here. I wish it could be like that again. I'm with Kim and you're with Heidi and everyone's happy and everything's good. Now, nobody's happy and nothing is good and it's because Kim doesn't really love me. She probably never did."

Nathan took the bottle and downed another long swallow. Despite the drinking, he was still in control. He was always in control. Mark was still talking but Nathan wasn't paying much attention.

It was dark all around, Nathan was naked and so was the woman lying next to him. She had been asleep for some time but Nathan was wide awake, staring out the window at the stars and the branches of the tree that hung across it. She stirred, opening her eyes and looking up at him.

"Hey baby, what are you still doing awake?"

"Nothing, really. Just thinking."

She snuggled up closer to him with a smile, ready to fall back asleep. After a moment, though, she began to giggle. Nathan didn't ask at first, but after the second burst of giggles, he finally spoke up.

"What's so funny?"

"Can't you hear that? Mark and Kim in the next room. It's not really funny, just sorta cute and I don't think I should be hearing it." After one more burst of giggles, she began pawing his chest, a little. "What do you say we make a little noise, ourselves?"

"Sorry, not now. Why don't we just go to sleep? Tomorrow."

"Okay," she said, closing her eyes and snuggling even tighter. "I can wait until tomorrow. You were wonderful, earlier."

"Thanks. So were you. Just go to sleep, okay?"

She only sighed and then with a smile, seemed to fall back asleep immediately. Nathan's eyes remained open, staring out the window, not moving a muscle, not making a sound.

The clock on Mark's VCR read 4:17, Nathan having turned the television off a few hours ago. The only light in the room was a single beam from a streetlight, illuminating part of Mark's face as he laid asleep on the couch. Nathan was still awake, his heart beating loud enough to hear, between Mark's spasmodic snores. There was no other sound; the room felt, in some undescribable way, dream-like. Nathan, who hadn't moved from his chair since Mark had fallen asleep, finally stood up and walked over to sit down next to Mark. Mark was slumped at an angle, his body wedged into the corner of the couch, one foot propped on the coffee table in front of it. Nathan slumped down at an angle, so as to be parallel to Mark, close enough so that their arms practically touched. He stayed in that position for quite a while. Mark had stopped snoring, his breathing deep and regular. The clock reached 4:41. Nathan turned to face Mark, studying his face--eyes closed, lips slightly open. Moving his face into that single beam of light, sharing it with Mark, he put his hand on Mark's face and slowly moved forward, placing his lips on those of his sleeping companion.

He kissed Mark passionately but gently. Mark's eyes opened in surprise but he closed them after a moment and made no attempt to stop Nathan, instead kissing back with the same passion. They continued growing with more and more intensity. Nathan kissed Mark's neck and Mark called out his name softly. Moving his head back up, they kissed each other again and again, their tongues twisting around each other. Nathan's eyes opened for a moment in surprise when Mark's hand touched his stomach but he closed them again, his heart thumping loudly. Mark's hand slowly moved down until it was stroking Nathan's fully developed erection. Nathan opened his eyes, looked down at Mark, he looked at how his eyes were still closed with anticipation, he felt Mark's hand on his penis, finally, he felt that single, bright beam of light on his face, bleeding right across his eyes. One lone, weak noise escaped from Nathan's mouth before he suddenly, violently pulled away and started to walk out of the room, into the darkness. Mark, opening his eyes, stood up behind him.

"Nathan--"

Nathan spun around quickly striking Mark across the face with all of the force in his muscular body. Mark fell back down upon the couch.

"Shut the fuck up," he yelled.

"But Nathan, why--"

Nathan hit him again. His fists rained down upon Mark's face a third and a forth time.

"I said shut the fuck up you stupid faggot! You fucking cocksucker!"

Mark tried to escape by falling off the couch but Nathan picked him up and threw him into the wall. He hit Mark once, making him fall back onto the couch where Nathan pounced before him and continued to beat him without mercy, without second thought. Mark must have known that he stood no chance of fighting back against the much bigger and more powerful Nathan because he did not try to fight back, only throwing his arms over his head to try and shield himself from the blows. Nathan's fists became sore but they hit Mark's now bloody face again and again, almost in a rhythm. Mark tried to speak one last time, but he only got out Nathan's name, once again.

"You fucking cocksucker, how many times do I have to tell you to keep your fucking mouth shut," he yelled, practically out of breath, but unrelenting in his attack.

Nathan left Mark trembling, bloody, and reduced to tears.

It was early the next evening when Alicia pulled herself away from Mtv to answer the phone and hear Nathan's voice on the other end.

"Hey Alicia, what's up?"

"Nathan!" she cheerily called out. "What's up with you?"

His voice was low but purposeful. "I was just thinking that I'm sorry I couldn't see you last night. But I'd like to see you tonight if you don't have any plans."

She sang out in her flirty manner, "Yeah, that'd be great. What do you want to do? Do you want to go out somewhere?"

He was silent a moment. Then, "Actually, I was hoping you could just come over here. I'd like us to be alone."

Alicia smiled. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

She readily agreed, and they were about to hang up when she broke from her flirty voice, "Nathan?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you for calling. I can be so good for you, Nathan."

"I know you can," he replied.

She told him that she'd come over after dark, which would be around eight o'clock. Then, hanging up the phone, she went to prepare herself for the evening. Nathan hung up the phone and waited for dark to come.

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