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Surely everyone is getting ready to go out to some fonda, or maybe they already got together and are on their way to some fun place.
Everyone but me.
Everyone is celebrating, including my parents. They surely feel less pressure by not having to take me with them, so they’ll drink and dance until dawn, and will come back the next day to just talk to me again, just for some errand.
They knew that Kenny and the others wanted us to go to a different fonda, a little further away from the usual ones, and that in Eric's car we would be fine. They knew it and they didn't think it was a good idea. Sometimes I think they suspect that there is something between Kenneth and me, I mean, they have that little game in which they bet on whether I'm gay or not, but at the same time, they look at me as if I was possessed by the devil every time I say something about equality, or if I wear or say something that may have the slightest homosexual connotation. Which never happens, only in their heads. It's the living image of a religious fanatic who fails in their own vows.
I know my father is not completely heterosexual. I know that my mother needs therapy. I know that they would be better off divorced. And I know that they will never accept it. As much as they do not accept the fact that I have grown up and I want to go out from time to time with my friends and with Kenny.
I told them in advance that the guys wanted to try other fondas and stop going to that one where everyone knew each other, and where the gossip went hard when someone drank a bit too much. I even did more chores so that they couldn't say that I had already had days off or call me lazy, but just falling asleep was enough for them to ignore all the effort. All because the night before I was so excited about that little adventure, about being among people I had never seen before and being able to dance and even being able to hold Kenny's hand without my parents finding out. Damn it.
It was also for insisting on wanting to go, for having said that I had behaved well, because to be honest I always do it, from a young age, so as not to cause problems, so that they wouldn't ground me. Knowing that I can't go out because I'm grounded while being 21 years old sounds tragicomic. And no, it's not just that I'm grounded, it's that I can't go out, because they took my keys. I wouldn't do it without a good reason, though. I've never given them reasons to not trust me; they alone have created a terrible image of their son.
I sigh, staring at the ceiling. I already told Kenneth that I won't be able to go, and that no, I can't sneak away, because they took my keys. I felt sad at his discouraged tone and agreed with every swear word toward them that came off the phone.
Watching TV is depressing because it's all about celebrations, listening to the radio, same. Computer games are boring, I don't want to read or write, I don't have inspiration to paint, there are not even pineapple ice cream leftovers. Such a September 18th. At least there are no classes.
I lie down and try to sleep; a nap could help pass the time and forget this shitty day. Despite having the whole week off, I have to prepare myself for next Monday; everyone laughing and telling their weekend anecdotes.
My phone buzzes, maybe it's a game notification. Wait. No, it's a message from Kenny.
Leo, Leo, where are you? I can't see you.
He likes to call me Leo most of the time, as much as I like to call him Kenneth or Ken. It's a little silly thing but using our real names or nicknames instead of what everyone else calls us is something a bit more intimate. Ours. Leo is much better than Butters, and much better than Leopold or even worse, Leopoldo.
uh? kenny, are you drunk? give Kyle your phone, you may lose it. I write back. I'm sad because I can't be with them, and because Kenny usually texts me when he drinks and will continue to do so until his phone is taken away.
No. Leo, Leo, where are you? I can't see you.
Again.
I start writing a response when something hits the window. No, it can't be true. I get up and walk to the window, if Kenny is outside, I swear... Ah, there he is, smiling. He's always had a nice smile.
"What are you doing here, Ken?" I say after opening the window. Kenny shakes his head.
"Leo, Leo, where are you? I can't see you." He repeats, waggling his eyebrows. He wants me to reply.
"Kenny," I laugh a little, "you're wrong. Juliet is the one who says that from her window. Romeo is the one downstairs, hiding."
"Oh, well." He says, lifting his index finger, so that I wait for him, and runs toward the car parked two houses away. Eric's car.
He takes out a ladder from the trunk. I can't believe it.
"That can be fixed," he says when he's back, placing the ladder against the wall and extending it until it reaches my window.
He starts climbing it and the car honks, startling Kenny and making the ladder wobble a bit. I hold it, hurriedly. I don't want accidents and even less involving him. When he reaches my window, he smiles at me again and steals a kiss. I let him into my room and rub my knuckles together, embarrassed. It's not the first time he's here, but it is the first time he gets in through the window to take me somewhere else, even if it's a fonda.
"Come on, we have to make it look like you're sleeping," he says, opening a drawer and placing pieces of cloth on my bed.
"Ken, my parents won't be back until dawn, and they still won't come into my room."
"You don't know that. It's better to be safe than to be grounded for two months." I shut up, he's right, he usually is, especially when it's about my parents.
We do a good job making it look like I'm in bed, although I insist it could have been simpler; Kenneth is a perfectionist, even if sometimes it's hard to believe.
"So, they stay with sleeping clothes and I with the prince charming," he says casually, waggling his eyebrows at me while he gets closer enough to give me another short kiss.
"Stop that, Ken." I reply, looking anywhere but at him, "I insist, they won't come into my room." Kenny seems to be paying no attention.
"You'll go down first," he says, going back to the window and holding the ladder, "wear a coat, it can rain." I listen to him, because when I tried to look for something to watch on TV, over half of the news was about how it had rained in X and no one was prepared. I take my ID and some money I've saved for things like this.
I grab Kenny's shoulder and put the first fearful foot on the ladder. It's firm, but I'm still a little scared of going down, along with the fact that I didn't need much or, to be honest, any convincing to be sneaking away from home in the afternoon, and nothing less than through my window. What if the neighbors were watching? They could tell my parents. It was a possibility.
"Come on, Leo, keep going." I didn't realize I had stopped in the middle of my way down, absorbed in my thoughts. I continue until I reach the floor, and I hold the ladder so Kenny can also go down.
"It's okay now, come down, and leave the window ajar." I remind him. That way it would be less suspicious. Kenny looks at me and smiles, maliciously.
"Leo, Leo, where are you? I can't see you."
"Kenny, we mustn't waste..."
"Leo. Leo."
"Uh," I try to remember how it went. "Here, Ken, next to... uh, I don't know what rhymes with your name."
"Shh, keep up the act."
"You...You are my flower." I recite, embarrassed.
"Oh!" he shouts dramatically. "My love," he puts a hand on his forehead and pretends to faint.
A car honks again, more insistent and even closer. I guess that in the meantime, Eric drove to my house.
"Hurry up, fags. We don't have all day for your corny stuff, I have enough taking you all with me."
Kenny quickly descends the ladder and leaves it at its original size. With a wink and a head movement, he tells me to get in the car while he goes to store the ladder in the trunk.
Feeling pride in being the recipient of those winks, I open the door and sit next to Stan, who's carrying a backpack on his legs in the shape of a six-pack of beer. Kyle greets me from the copilot's seat and Eric growls, impatiently, honking the horn again for Kenny to hurry the fuck up.
"If we don't leave soon each of you will have to buy me a terremoto." He warns us just as Kenny sits next to me, settling in and slamming the door shut, both out of enthusiasm and to get Eric at least a little bit madder. Which is a success.
"All set, fatass. Let's go!" I laugh a bit as he puts an arm over my shoulders, hugging me. I am happy about this change of plans. Clearly, anything is better than staring at the ceiling while getting the smell of asados and the sound of loud music from everywhere.
"Hey, Butters."
"Yes, Stan?"
"Did Kenny act Romeo and Juliet for you when he picked you up, didn't he?"
"Uh, yes, but he got confused."
"Everything was planned, Leo. Stan, stop being jealous of my acting abilities."
"Kenny." He says seriously, almost angry. "Do you really not believe me when I say that that line never came out in the script? It's from an adaptation, and not even an English one! It's like Sherlock Holmes and the elementary, my dear Watson. That never happened.”
"What does it matter? You're not fun. Also," Ken hugs me tighter. "Leo’s a great actor. He made me blush when he said I was his flower." Now I'm the one who blushes. I really said it, but I didn't know I had made him blush.
"Whatever you say. I'm just trying to make it clear."
"Not all of us are bookworms like you and the Jew." Eric adds, connecting his phone to the car.
"Cartman. Don't start." Kyle threatens.
"Yeah, yeah. Anyway, I don't care. Now shut up or I'll throw you in the middle of the road."
Eric starts to drive, playing music that makes everyone complain, but his musical taste is quite similar to mine. I hum a few songs, and we laugh when Lorde starts playing.
I look at Ken, who is slightly moving his head to Lady Gaga's music, because come on, a trip in Eric's car without Lady Gaga is like a trip in which Eric and Kyle don't argue. Impossible.
I look for Ken's hand that is not around my shoulders and find it resting on his leg, a perfect opportunity to take it and start petting it to the rhythm of the music. His fingers are a little bit cold, but with the warmth of my hands and the heat inside the car, I know that they'll warm up soon. He is surprised by my gesture, but he gives me a kind smile.
Kenneth is sweet. He's sweet despite having so many doubts about what we have. I know he's afraid of commitment because of his parents. I know that he’s scared he'll turn out the same and will damage and ruin the life of the ones he loves, but that same fear makes me believe in him. I really believe that he'll never be like Stuart and Carol. I know that he's considerate. Everyone can see that he lives for Karen, for her education and safety, and that he tries to maintain a good relationship with Kevin. I know that Mysterion wasn't just a game for him, that his sense of justice is good, that he is an idealist but also a quite focused person. Sometimes, I wish he could see it and believe in the power he has to change things.
I also don't have a good starting point considering my parents, but I'm not scared to become like them. I know that I can and will be different, that's one of the main differences between the two, on this issue, of course. But I don't blame him for not wanting us to be official. It's something I can live with, especially because, despite the rumors, I know that he loves me and wouldn't be with another person without a previous discussion, or after kind of breaking up with me.
I understand that agreeing to be with him without having any official title does nothing but increase those rumors, but this is ours. Of course, I still dream of the day when I can call him my boyfriend, because... I don't know, it sounds nice, and it would mean that the internal dilemma has disappeared or that it's in the process of it.
When I look outside, I can see that the landscape has changed completely, and Eric was already looking for a parking spot.
"These fucking hippies don't know how to park!!!" He growls.
"What about there?" Kyle suggests pointing to a spot. Eric sighs.
"Kyle. Do you really think this beautiful car would fit into that tiny space? Don't make me laugh. But I forgive you. Don't worry. I know that not having a car means you don't know anything about the subject." Kyle snorts beside him. I can almost hear how his eyes rolled.
"Don't bother the designated driver, Cartman." Ken says next to me.
"We only came because Kyle offered to drive us back, since you kept complaining that you wanted to drink today, but you wanted to use your car anyway. So, you owe it to him." Stan adds. He's been pretty quiet beyond the short conversation we had when they came to get me. Eric only reacted by turning up the volume on Ke$ha's song.
About ten minutes later, we were able to find a decent spot to park, surprisingly still close to the main fonda. As we got out of the car, Ken immediately took my hand, interlocking our fingers. This will definitely be the best September 18th of all. I'm counting on it.