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Jared started smoking pot. One night, Erlich was trying to get Dinesh to smoke with him, and since Jared saw how free Erlich was being with the idea of sharing, he decided to join in, even though he knew there was a fifty-percent chance of getting laughed off. So he said, “I’ll do it”, and Erlich blinked a few times in surprise, laughed, and said, “all right, come on, let’s go.”
Jared picked up the giant, glass dome looking thing, the one that completely fills with white smoke, and Erlich shook his head.
“No, no, come on. That’s way too advanced”. So Erlich showed Jared how to use a dugout instead.
And yes, he made him pay for the pot he smoked, but it was worth it. Erlich laughed with him, slapped him on the back when he coughed, made him feel like they were finally friends. All of the insecurities he had, the ones he ignored through carefully constructed routines, went away, genuinely, for the first time. Instead of being a rapidly failing facsimile of a regular guy, he just was one. Externally, he was just rubbing his hand in wide strokes on the carpet while Erlich did the talking, chose the music (Jay-Z), lead the way, but inside, wonderful things were happening.
Eventually, Jared started smoking alone. He added it to his day as one more of his many different routines, but it quickly became the one he most looked forward to. He would lie on the bed in Noah’s guesthouse (a very charitable term, if he was honest), suck on his little one hitter, and just think. Ordinarily, he would sidestep any thoughts in his head that were uncomfortable or dark, but stoned Jared was like a brave explorer, throwing himself down into caves. Even memories of his childhood, things he never wanted to revisit or even touch lightly upon, would cloud his stoned happiness for a moment and then just…melt away. It was all okay, it was all just part of him, and he, himself, was okay. Pot gave him acceptance. And once he got settled into it and used to accepting himself instead of ignoring or repressing, he started thinking about other things. He went through the past and started thinking about the present.
He started thinking about men. If he thought about it, he considered the fact that he hadn’t even begun to blossom socially until extremely recently, and sexuality might be part of that, but he hadn’t ever considered the fact that his sexuality might center on men. That he was gay. When stoned, he would practice thinking to himself, “I am gay”, and it felt all right then, but every morning after he would just go back to ignoring it. He would go back to being nonsexual, awkward Jared. In his waking life he could never imagine being with men, trying to meet someone, trying to break into the dating scene or any of that. But stoned Jared thought about it a lot. A whole lot. It wound up becoming his main focus. He thought about whether he had always been gay or if it was a new thing for him. He didn’t really have an answer. He wondered if that even mattered. He wondered what kind of man would even want to put up with him. After all, he was embarrassingly old to begin dating, not to mention having sex. He had had a few passionless flings with girls in college, the kind of thing where they seemed to assume that he was gay but enjoyed making out with him when everyone was drunk. A few times this led to very difficult and embarrassing sex. Once he settled into his post-college life, he was glad to have that behind him. The thought of more or less being a virgin again and putting someone else through the kind of disappointment he had put those girls through was not something he wanted to dwell on. Plus, he could only loosen up enough to even consider the possibility of being gay when he was stoned.
At one point, he started thinking about Richard. They didn’t start as romantic thoughts at first, he just thought about how happy he was to know Richard, how he felt like Richard truly liked him as a friend, he thought about the time Richard told him that he was happy to have him around. He was proud of himself for the times he was able to calm Richard down from panic attacks, proud of the company he had, if he was honest, helped Richard to build.
He assumed Richard was straight. He seemed like he had a crush on Monica, at least at one point, and nothing came out of it, but the feeling was definitely there. Richard had mentioned having a girlfriend, and Jared knew that that was in the past, but it was enough for him to think that Richard was definitely not gay. He wondered why he was dwelling on that so much. He wondered, but he knew why. Stoned Jared was always honest. He liked Richard. After all, Richard was the one who showed him that there was another way to live, outside of doing the most sensible thing, outside of being told what to do in all aspects of life. And sure, Jared was still doing the most sensible thing most of the time, but it was that one, impulsive, terrifying time that led him here. That was beautiful. That was invaluable to him. So of course he liked Richard. But he had no idea what to do about it.
He got stoned with Erlich again, in full view of everyone this time, and watched with fascination as Dinesh did “always blue” 50 times, shattering his own record again. Something about that ball hypnotized everyone, and stoned Jared just couldn’t get over the clicking noises of the different parts or the tension of waiting for them to flip back to blue. He had an almost meditative focus on it, and spent some time afterward staring into space. Richard tapped him on the shoulder and asked if he was okay, and he said yes that he was fine. Richard went into the kitchen and at that moment Jared decided that his mouth was dry and he needed a glass of orange juice, so he quietly followed. Richard was getting himself some cereal and Jared got himself the orange juice and stood across the counter and looked at Richard.
“Hey, what’s up?” Richard asked.
Jared tried to think of some business-related thing that he could ask him, but he was way too high and he felt uninhibited, and he knew it was the wrong moment and that no moment would ever be right, but he leaned over the counter and very softly, barely kissed Richard’s mouth. He didn’t look up, and neither did Richard, who took his bowl and walked into his room and shut the door.
Oh, god, what did I do, Jared thought. He had to be honest. He fucked up. He went back out and watched everybody socialize, but he was back to being the Jared who was never a part of anything. He ruined it. The soft, undulating feeling that made up being stoned gave way to sharp, painful vibration. His ears would not stop popping. That shifting pressure in his head was so overwhelming that he wanted to cry, but his head was so drained of any moisture that he knew no tears would come. He hoped no one noticed what happened. Maybe he could leave. He probably had to at that point.
He went into the hallway and softly knocked on Richard’s door. He didn’t answer. He checked to see if it was locked, which it wasn’t, and he opened it. Richard had his headphones on and his laptop open, but he didn’t look like he was actually doing anything. The bowl of cereal was on the desk, untouched.
“Richard?” Jared asked. Richard took his headphones off and looked like he was going to say something, but no sound came out. Jared shut the door.
“Listen, Richard, should I—should I leave? Because I will. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, it was stupid, I’m just, I’ll just leave. I’m sorry.”
He opened the door again and Richard told him to stop. So he shut the door again and turned around.
“You can’t leave. We need you here.”
“No, I know. I wouldn’t leave Pied Piper. I just mean, you know, this. Socially. It’s all right, I know I was wrong and I shouldn’t have done that. I just…I’m just so fucking high, I’m sorry. Sorry. Sorry.” He was fumbling for anything to say that would take it back, but his brain was shutting down in the face of a completely nonresponsive Richard.
Richard stood up and faced Jared, but still wouldn’t look at him.
“No, it’s okay.”
“So you’re okay with the fact that I just tried to kiss you?”
“Well, no…or I don’t know. It’s okay. You’re my friend. So I want you here. So it’s okay.”
Just friends. That wasn’t what he wanted, maybe, but any acknowledgment of the fact that Richard cared about him, even platonically, made him so happy. It was more than he expected.
Richard was looking at him now, but barely. They couldn’t catch each other’s eyes.
Jared imagined a scenario in which Richard kissed him. He had to stand on his toes. He kissed him, and Richard’s tongue was in his mouth, and it was like flooding a desert with cool water. They broke away.
Instead, they were just standing, shifting. Not looking at each other. Jared wanted more confirmation that he hadn’t ruined everything, but he couldn’t say anything. He went back outside. It was over. He had created an unspoken past between them. And that was all it would ever be.