The loud music boomed around me as I sucked on my cigarette.
"I have to go to the bathroom," I said as loudly as I could into the guy’s ear.
He nodded and backed away.
It was another loud Saturday night at the OP, El Paso, Texas’ biggest downtown gay bar.  Everyone, straight or gay came to the OP because it was a fun and easygoing place to be.  What you wore, what you were, and who you were didn’t matter.  The emphasis was on drinking, dancing and having fun.
I made my way to the bathroom and pushed the door.  Instantly, the smell of alcohol, cigarettes, sex and vomit rushed out to meet me.  I stepped right back out and hurried upstairs.  Most people didn’t bother going upstairs unless it was a particularly busy night, which this was.  I just hoped the smell would make me sick before I peed.
This bathroom wasn’t as congested.  There was no line to the stalls but there were about five girls squeezing into the three mirrors and sinks.  I quickly took care of business.
 "Hi, mija!" Carmen called as she saw me come out of the stall.
She was the attendant.  I knew her from my many nights in these clubs.  She was the only reason many girls didn’t go home with strangers, or throw up all over their cars.  It was her shoulder everyone cried on, myself included.
I hugged her.  "How are you?  What’s new?"
She smiled, "Nothing, same old.  It’s Saturday night, and I’m here.  I haven’t seen you in a while," she said.
"I was busy," I said trying not to give any indication of the fact that I had been staying at home, miserably alone for the past two months.  I didn’t want this night to deteriorate.  I refused under any circumstance to talk about Daniel.  "I’ve been writing for the college paper.  I’m supposed to be at a concert in Las Cruces.  Can you imagine?  I’m supposed to be reviewing the Backstreet Boys’ show.  Backstreet Boys, Shmackstreetboys!"
She laughed, "Well, I’m glad to see you.  Do you want a cigarette?"
I nodded, happy that she remembered my little vice.  Just as I reached for the pack, we heard gagging coming from one of the stalls.
Carmen rolled her eyes and took out her little broom.  "Duty calls, mija.  Help yourself."
I had pulled out the cigarette and was looking for the matches when one of the girls in the mirrors leaned a little too heavily into me.
"Hey, watch it," I told her giving her a push in the opposite direction.
As I lit up, the girl once again ran into me.  She was especially tall, if she was a she, I thought, remembering I was in a gay bar, as I tried to redirect her.  This time, she teetered back over to me and I fought to keep my balance.
"Hey!"  I cried trying to push her off.
"It’s okay mija," Carmen said coming into view.  "It’s okay.  He’s okay. He’s just had too much to drink."
She perched the young blond man that I had mistaken for a woman back on the sink.  His head rolled back and bumped the mirror.  She held on to him until he slouched down to a stable position.  Now that I could see him, he looked very young.  His complexion was clear and fair.  His eyes were closed, but this kid looked very beautiful and very young.
I looked at Carmen.  "Is he okay?  Are you sure it’s just alcohol?"
She nodded pushing his soft-looking blond hair out of his face.  "He’s just drunk.  I’ve worked 25 years in the El Paso clubs, believe me, I can tell the difference.  He’s just too young and can’t handle the booze.  I’m afraid to call security because they’ll just dump him out in the street or call the cops.  Can you imagine?  Being this little boy’s mother and being told that your son was found drunk and unconscious in El Paso’s biggest gay bar?  Ni lo mande dios.  God forbid.  He’ll be fine."
"Do you know who he came with?  Has anyone been looking for him?"
She shook her head.  "He wandered in here about two.  I guess he started drinking really early.  What time is it any way?"
I looked at my watch.  "Three-thirty.  They’ll be closing soon."
 "Valgame dios!  Oh my God!" Carmen said.  "I have to get this place cleaned up.  I can’t stay here until six this morning.  Keep an eye on him, will you?"
"Carmen, I --," I started then remembered the time I had come in here drunk and crying.  She baby-sat me the entire night.  "Yeah, okay."
She disappeared out the door, and I looked at my little friend.  He wasn’t even wearing one of those wristbands that distinguished the people who can drink from those who can’t.
"Hey," I said shaking his arm.  "Hey, wake up."
He sighed and mumbled something.
"Hey, you’d better wake up because they’ll be closing soon, and you need to get home."
"My favorite color is green," he said.
"What?  Listen, you have to wake up.  Carmen can’t take care you, I can’t take care of you, and you need to go home.  I don’t know what the hell you are doing here anyway."
 "Video games...video games.  With my free time, I like to play video games."
I looked at him perplexed.  "I don’t care.  Wake up!"
This time, I shook him so hard that he came off the sink and fell over on top of me again.  He was heavy.  I struggled to push him back toward the sinks, and I was able to stabilize him against the wall.  He was talking on and on about his favorite color, his hobbies, just general nonsense.
I ran the water in the sink and got my hands as wet as I could.
"Come on, wake up," I said and I rubbed his soft face with cold water.  "Wake up."
He struggled to get away from me but finally opened his bleary blue eyes.  He looked at me, then around at the walls, then up at the ceiling.  He smiled.
"I liked dark haired girls.  Do you want my autograph?"
He was out again.
I decided there was not much else I could do.  As soon as Carmen came back, I would leave him with her.  She could put him in a cab.
I watched the door anxiously as girls paraded in and out.  You could tell the night was winding down because less and less people came into the bathroom.  My friend leaned his head on my shoulder and snored lightly now.  I stood still smelling the mixture of alcohol and cologne.
At one point, someone walked in, and I realized the lights had gone on inside the club.  It was time to go home.  My sister was probably looking everywhere for me.
I pushed him back against the mirror.  "You have to stay here.  I’m sorry.  If you wake up now, and tell me where you live, I’ll take you home."
No response.
I shook his shoulder.
No response.
I cupped his chin in my hand and shook his face.   "Hey.  Hey!"
No response.
I gently slapped his face a couple of times.
Finally, he sat up, eyes still closed, and leaned his entire weight on me.  I held on to his waist so we both wouldn’t fall down.
"No, don’t do that, come on!"
"Ellie.  Elisa!"
I turned to find my sister at the door calling to me.
"Man girl, most people go into the stalls to do it," she said as she approached us.
"I’m not doing it.  Help me."
She walked around inspecting the scene.  "Help you?  Help you do what?  You have Blondie here where you want him."
I wanted to laugh, but my back was starting to hurt.  "Help me get him off of me.  He weighs a ton!"
Laura pushed him back against the mirror.
"How did this kid get in here anyway?  Is he okay?"
"He’s really drunk.  I’m taking care of him for Carmen."
"Carmen the bathroom lady?" Laura half laughed.  "She just walked out the front door.  I was outside too, looking for you, and when she saw me and said you were in here.  She was in a big hurry."
"No!  Don’t say that Laura, no!  What am I going to do with him?"
She eased closer to him and touched his face.
"Do with him?  Ellie, he’s not your problem.  I’m sleepy and hungry.  Let’s go home."
"And what?  Let security find him here and leave him in the street?  How long do you think this kid will last in downtown El Paso?  What if the cops throw him in jail?  What if some big guy hits on him?  What if they totally beat him up and rape him, and--?"
"Okay, all right," Laura said.  "You’ve watched too many prison movies.  If you want to take him somewhere, let’s do it now.  It’s late and I want to eat."
"Help me."
Laura helped me get him on his feet.  He wasn’t totally out any more, but he was still talking nonsense.
"I love to travel," he was saying.  "Green, my favorite color is green."
Laura and I walked him out of the bathroom and toward the door.  I guess on any given night, many people walk their semi-conscious friends out of this place.  No one looked twice at us.
We made it out to the car easily enough and put him in the back seat.  When Laura climbed in, she immediately took off her shoes, leaned over to the back seat and started going through the boy’s pockets.
"Laura!  What are you doing?"
"Hey, if he has an ID, we can get him home.  Or did you want to keep him?  This isn’t like when we used to bring home strays.  This kid must have a home.  Maybe his parents are looking for him."
I drove quietly while she finished searching him.  "Eighty bucks, ATM receipt, lint, quarters.  Shit!  No ID. That’s just his pockets.  I can’t get to his wallet.   How the hell did he get into the OP anyway?  He looks twelve."  She sat back down.   "What do we do now?"
I shrugged.
"You’re going to have to do better than that, Ellie.  You can’t keep him."
"Let’s just let him sleep it off at home," I said like it was the most natural thing in the world.  "We’ll leave him on the couch and lock our bedroom doors.  He’ll just sleep it off.  I’ll take him home in the morning."
Laura started to laugh, then she stopped.  "Okay.  Okay Ellie, let’s take him home."
He slept the whole 20-minute ride home and stop a fast food drive-thru.  It was much harder to get him off the car.  At one point, Laura almost dropped him and let him hit the pavement.  Somehow, we were able enough to make it to the couch, and without missing a beat, the boy kept right on sleeping.
 

That morning, I awoke to the sound of my phone’s shrill ringing.  The television was still on since I had forgotten to turn it off when I went to sleep.
"Hello?"
"Well, good morning Elisa.  I’m glad to hear you’re up.  I guess you’re putting the final touches on that concert review that was supposed to be on my desk at noon today."
Noon?  I looked at my clock.  It was almost one.
"I, uh, Garret, I can explain.  I have the review, it’s just that the comp--."
"We have computers here."
"I know . . .," I trailed off because I was too sleepy to think of a lie.
Garret sighed.  "So, how was the concert?   Did lots of girls faint?"
I cleared my throat to try to sound awake.   "Oh Garret, you should have it.  It was like these girls were in rapture.   I thought that should be the headline, Backstreet Rapture."
Garret half laughed, "I thought you were supposed to pan these guys, Elisa.  This is a college paper, not Teenybop magazine."
"Yeah, I know, but--."  I started to say just then I saw my blond friend on TV.  He was dancing and singing.  He was a Backstreet Boy.  He smiled into the camera with sumptuous blue eyes.  I sat up and crawled over to the TV to get a closer look, but it was him:  extremely tall, blond, blue eyes, perfect features.
"But what?  Listen Elisa, don’t bullshit me.  The Backstreet Boys postponed their show last night.  One of the boys is sick.  Go down to Cruces and see what you can find out."
I nodded though I was one the phone.  "Yeah, sure Garret.  Listen, what if I could get an interview with one of the guys?"
Garret snorted, "What?  Are you going to sleep with a roadie?"
"No!  What if I could get it?  Would I have to pan them then?  They are young, college aged, musicians, singers, popular.  Wouldn’t it just be great?"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever Elisa.  I’ll give you the front page for that.  Hell, I’ll let you be in charge of the next edition.  You can put out a Teenybop page for all I care if you can get that.  Go down to Cruces, okay?"
"Sure Garret, I will.  Thanks.  Bye."
"Bye."
I hurried to my bathroom to change, wash my face and brush my teeth.  I knew little or nothing about the Backstreet Boys. I knew I had heard a few of their songs, but I was too old to know anything about them.  Hell, I was 24 years old, not a girl with posters all over her walls.
I did however, have one of them asleep on my couch.
I put on my favorite denim shorts and white T-shirt and went into the living room.
When Laura and I left him, she went straight to bed, but I dug out blankets and a pillow for him.  Instantly, he curled himself up around the pillow and had gone back to sleep.  I waited for a little while, listening to him snore and breathe deeply.
As I entered the living room, I saw his bulky figure.  He had the blanket twisted around his waist and his feet sticking out of the couch.  He was just too tall to fit there.
I approached him quietly, easily as not to wake him.
Suddenly, he stirred.
I stayed back and watched him sit up abruptly, looking around as if trying to determine where he was.  He touched his head gingerly.  I guessed he was hung over.  He pushed his hair out of his face and felt his pockets then, he spotted me.
"Good morning," I said.
"Good, good morning.  Oh my God."
I tried not to laugh.  "Are you all right?  You’re not sick are you?"
"Sick?  No."  He looked around himself again.  "I’m not sick.  I’m just, just, just. . ." he stammered.
I approached him and sat on the coffee table.  He pulled the blanket out from under him and tried to fold it.  I pulled it out of his hands.
"You’re just lost," I said.  "You have no idea who I am."
His hair had fallen back into his face, so he just nodded.
"And  you have no idea what you’re doing here."
"Pretty much," he said.
"It’s okay," I said.  "Don’t worry.  Nothing happened with us or anything.  I just brought you here because you were in no condition to go anywhere else."
He looked up, his eyes startled.  "Condition?"
"You don’t’ remember being very drunk last night? Very, very drunk?"
He touched his temple.  "My head feels like I was.  I don’t drink.  I guess I’m not used to it."
I nodded.  "Well, you were in the girl’s bathroom and Carmen, and I took care of you.  She disappeared on me, so I brought you home.  I would have taken you to your home, but I have no idea where you live."
He nodded as if he had started to remember.
"Oh my God, you’re right.  I remember drinking some beer with these guys that I met yesterday.  They knew the door guy at the club, so they let me in.  We kept drinking, and I think we did shots."
"Tequila?"
He nodded and touched his temple again.
"Say no more.  I know the feeling exactly.  My name is Elisa, what’s yours?"
"Name?  My name is Gen, I mean Gene.  Gene, it’s Gene."
I nodded, "Gene.  Are you sure?"
"Yeah, I’m sure.  I just don’t like it.  Everyone calls me Nick.  That’s my middle name."
"Oh, okay, Gene Nick.  Well, you’re welcome to shower here if you want, or I can take you straight home."
"That’s really nice of you Elisa.  I--."
We both heard a strange growling.  He touched his stomach embarrassed.
"Why don’t you shower?  I’ll make breakfast, then we’ll talk about getting you home."
He nodded.  "Okay."
After showing him to the main bathroom, I made a quick egg and chorizo breakfast.  Hot, spicy food always seemed to help a hang over.  I also made sure there was plenty of chilled orange juice to rehydrate my new friend.
"Here, drink some water first," I told him when he came into the kitchen.  His hair was wet and he was just wearing baggy, black jeans and a white under shirt.
"I stink like cigarette smoke," he said making a face after sipping the cold water.  "My clothes smell awful.  I think I used a lot of your shampoo trying to get the smell out.  I’m sorry."
"It’s okay," I said.  "Sit down.  You need to eat something and drink lots of liquid.  How do you feel?"
He took a deep breath and finally smiled.  His entire face lit up when he did that.  He had these healthy, rosy cheeks, and his eyes . . . They were bluer than anything I had ever seen before, the ocean, the sky, blue jeans.
"I’m embarrassed," he said.  "That’s how I feel.  I can’t believe I was so drunk that I ended up at your house.  I guess I was lucky, huh?"
"Yeah, considering you were in gay bar.  How did you get in there anyway?  You don’t even look 17."
He wrinkled his nose.  "Gay bar?  I don’t know.  I just know I took off for a little while and met these guys at a video store.  We started talking about video games, and they invited me to some party.  I took off with them, but don’t remember much after that.  I guess we drank a lot."
I sipped my juice.  "It happens I  guess, Gene Nick.  The only thing that matters is that you’re okay.  Where do you live?  Do you need to call home?"
He had been hungrily eating his breakfast as we talked, now he just stopped.  "Home?  Oh no, I don’t need to call home.  Actually, no one even knows I’m here."
"Don’t you live at home?  How old are you?" I asked.
"Eighteen.  I just turned eighteen last January.  Yeah, I live at home, but not right now.  Right now, I’m finishing up my final year of boarding school.  I hate it."
"Boarding school?  Wow.  Where?" I asked wondering how he planned to explain himself to me.
"Maryland," he said, not missing a beat.  "It’s this stuffy old school for boys.  Actually, I’m supposed to be in Las Cruces visiting my uncle for the weekend, but I got bored and went to the video store for a little while.  That’s when I met those guys that took me out, and you probably know more about the rest than I do."
I laughed.  "No, I don’t think I do.  I found you in the women’s bathroom.  You were lucky to have wandered in there.  Carmen, the attendant, is a really nice lady.  She takes care of everybody."
He wrinkled his nose again, it was an endearing gesture.  "Women’s bathroom?  Man, what night.  How did you get involved?"
"Carmen asked me to watch for you a minute, but ended up running out of the bathroom and never coming back.  She must have had an emergency.  Don’t you want to call your uncle?"
He shoveled a huge bite into his mouth then shook his head.  I wondered if he was stalling until he thought of what to say.
"No," he said swallowing finally.  "No thanks.  We kind of got into this huge fight, and I doubt he wants to hear from me right now.  It doesn’t really matter.  He won’t miss me."
I let him finish his breakfast in silence.  I wasn’t sure of what to say because I was so busy looking at him.  He was perfect.  His skin was clear and rosy.  His nose didn’t have a stray bump or hair on it.  His lips were roundish and pink.  Then I couldn’t even start describing his clear, crystalline eyes.
I looked away and finished my juice.
He was wiping his hands.  "Well, Elisa, thank you once again.  I have this feeling that I am forever in your debt."
I shook my head and smiled.  "Don’t worry.  Want a ride back to Cruces?  I have to go back there anyway.  I have to write a story for the University newspaper."
"University?  Wow, I thought you were about my age.  I didn’t think you were already in college."
"I’m 24," I said.  "I would have finished already, but I changed my major from journalism to education last year.  I haven’t gotten rid of the writing bug, so I occasionally write for the school paper."
"I can’t wait to go to college," he said sitting up.  "There’s so many things I want to do and study.  After last night, drinking won’t be one of them, but I want to be in all the plays, a fraternity, play sports, tour the museums, everything."
"And don’t forget go to class."
He blushed.  "And go to class."
Remembering that I had promised Garret a story, I tried to find a way to get him talking about himself.  Nick busied himself wiping stray crumbs off the table and gathering the used dishes.
"What’s boarding school like?" I asked.
He pushed away from the table and picked up the dishes.  "It sucks.  There are too many rules and too many people making rules.  Don’t stay up, don’t go out, don’t say that, don’t go there, don’t talk so loud, don’t watch that show.  It’s endless."
I joined him at the sink, and we quickly washed the morning dishes.  Even in his bare feet he towered over me.
"For someone who goes to boarding school, I’m surprised you know how to wash dishes."
He shook some suds off his hand and pushed his drying hair out of his face.  "I like to wash dishes.  I like to clean my own room and wash my own clothes.  Not that I do it all the time, but it makes me feel like I have a normal life."
I looked up at him.  "Normal?  You make boarding school sound really bad."
He tore a paper towel from the dispenser and dried his hands.  "I think it’s bad for me.  I want so much to do things other guys do.  I think that’s why it was so easy for me to take off with those guys yesterday.  I just feel this need to be normal."
I nodded.  "But what do you want to do now?  Do you want to go back to Cruces?"
He looked at me, then at the floor.  Slowly, he shook his head.  "No, I don’t want to go back there.  I know I have to, but I don’t want to.  Can I go with you to write your story?"
I laughed trying to seem natural.  "I don’t want to do that either.  Why don’t we go to the mall or something?  That’s normal."
"The mall," Nick said, his eyes sparkling.  "I’d love to go to the mall.  I can get some other clothes because I stink.  Let me grab my shoes."
I nodded.  "Okay."
While he went into the living room, I ran to Laura’s room.  Her blinds were down and her head was buried deep under the pillows.
"Laura," I said shaking her.  "Laura.  Wake up."
She stirred.
I shook her again.  "Laura, wake up."
She moved the pillow enough to focus on me then pushed it back.  "This had better be good, Elisa.  What do you want?"
"You need to get up.  That guy we brought home yesterday is one of the Backstreet Boys."
She didn’t move or make sound.  Finally, she pushed the pillow in my face.
"What?!?  Are you crazy?  What Backstreet Boys?"
"The singers, Laura.  You know, the group I was supposed to review in Cruces.  He ran away or something, but he’s here.  He’s really nice and really cute.  He’s only 18.  We’re going to the mall.  Laura!  Get up.  I want you to go and take some pictures.  I’m going to write a story.  Maybe we can sell it to the tabloids or something."
Laura rolled over and rubbed her eyes, "One of the Backstreet Boys?  Here?  In our house?  At the mall with you?  Are you sure?"
"We’re leaving to the mall in about ten minutes.  Show up there later and take some pictures, please.  Please.  I’ll cut you in on whatever I get."
She nodded.  "Yeah, okay.  But this better good, Ellie.  It just better be good."
"It will be, you just watch."
I hurried back to my room and fixed myself up.  When I made it back into the living room, Nick was leafing through the Sunday paper.
"You ready?" I asked.
He nodded standing up.   "Ready!"
 
 

Usually, I hated going to the mall with guys.  They always complained about walking around, taking too long and looking at everything.  Not Nick.  He seemed to love shopping.  He pulled me into each men’s store and asked my opinion about everything.  Needless to say he had impeccable taste.  He bought at least three shirts and two pairs of jeans.  He really did like green because two of the shirts were green and the other had green in it.  I just followed him around telling him that he looked good in everything, which he did.
He ended up ducking into a men’s room and changing into blue jeans and an emerald green jersey.
"I think it’s important to find the right person forever, not for right now," I was telling him though I had no idea how I had come to talk about myself.  "I’ve had plenty of right nows.  I’m not necessarily ready for forever, but I’m not willing to waste my time either.  I don’t waste my time dating anymore."
"Dating is not a waste of time," he said.  "I love to date.  It’s the chance you get to meet all kinds of different women, to experience and experiment."
I laughed. "Experiment?"
"Yeah, blondes, brunettes, red heads, short girls, tall shirts, small girls, younger girls," he elbowed me.  "Older girls."
I laughed harder then I meant to then elbowed him back.   "Sure.  Whatever.  But what makes you think that after you experiment with every race, size, kind and flavor, you’ll be read to settle down?   Quite the contrary.  Won’t you get accustomed to change and variety?  That one person you meet might just seem boring then.  How will you be able to settle for vanilla ice cream when you were used to sampling every flavor?"
"Well, because of my sampling I’ll know what I really want."
"What if you really miss the sampling?"
He was quiet.  "I don’t know."
We walked in silence.  I had kept an eye out for Laura, but forgot about her as the conversation became more involved.
He seemed pensive.
"Have you ever been in love?" he asked as we sat down at the edge of one of the indoor fountains.
I shrugged.  "I thought I was in love once.  But it wasn’t really love."
"Why?"
"Because it hurt so much.  Love is supposed to be a good thing.  It’s supposed to bring happiness, not sadness.  Why?  Have you ever been in love?"
He nodded silently.
I nodded too and looked around.  I spotted Laura inside one of the department stores focusing her telephoto lens on us.
"I was in love last year, and it didn’t work out.  She didn’t like the fact that I was in boarding school and could never see her," he was saying. "She wanted me there all the time, and I wanted to be there.  I just couldn’t.  She was nice girl, you know?  Pretty, smart, nice.  I think she just got sick of waiting for me to come home."
"Then she wasn’t the one," I said simply.
He looked at me.  "What?"
"Well, don’t you think that if someone really loves you, they want you to be happy?"
He shrugged,  "Yeah.  But no one wants to give up their happiness either."
"That’s the point.  If someone truly loves you they’ll be happy that you’re happy."
"I don’t see how that could be true in this case.  She was unhappy because she never saw me."
"If she loved you enough, she would have seen that it was impossible for you to be at two places at once.  I’m not saying that she should have been happy. She just should have been more understanding.  You need to finish school.  It’s not an option.  What if when you went to college, you could have been near her?  Couldn’t she have waited for that?" I asked.
He sighed.  "I don’t know.  You make it sound easy, but it’s not."
"Love’s not easy.  I never meant to say that.  However, if someone loves you, they’ll stick it out.  The good and the bad, don’t you think?  If they can’t, or if they don’t, then it wasn’t love, and you have to let go."
He turned his body to face me.  I actually got nervous.
"So, you don’t think love is worth giving up things that make you happy?"
I shook my head.  "Nick, I’ve learned real love asks you to give up nothing.  It encourages you to have more and is happy when you’re happy no matter what."
He bit his lip still looking confused, but he nodded.
I reached up and touched his soft hair.  He closed his eyes leaned into my palm.  Suddenly, I felt so sorry for him.  He was unhappy and lonely, that’s why he ended up getting so drunk.
"I’m glad I met you," he said, eyes still closed.
"I’m glad I met you too," I meant to say, but it came out as whisper.
He sat up.  "Okay, enough depressing talk.  We need to have fun Elisa.  Where do you go to have fun?"
I checked my watch.  It was barely three.  "Clubs, but it’s way to early to go there."
"What?" he took a friendly swipe at me.  "Clubs!  Come on, there has to be an amusement park here or a fair.  Anything."
"Amusement park?  Like rides?  I don’t get on rides," I informed him.
He peeled those eyes at me and put his hands together in a begging gesture.  "Please, Elisa.  I don’t get to do this in boarding school."
I rolled my eyes.  "Yeah, okay.  I’ll take you to Western Playland.  It’s the only thing I can think of."
He stood up and pulled me by the hand out of the mall and to the parking lot.
 
 

I hated rides.  Nick, however, looked totally in his element in this second class amusement park.
"Where’s the roller coaster?" he asked looking around.
"I’m not--."
He grabbed my hand.  "Yes you are!  You’ll love it.  You can scream as loud as you want and no one says, ‘Shut up’."
He found the signs pointing to El Bandido and dragged me along.  I had no intention of getting on there.  The line was fairly long, so I knew I would have no problem escaping before it was our turn.
Nick looked so excited watching the people riding the old wooden roller coaster.  He kept a tight grip on my hand but couldn’t seem to keep still.  He kept humming a little tune and just couldn’t stand still.
"You don’t even look hung over," I told him.
He laughed.  "I have a little headache, but this will take it away."  He stopped moving around and looked at me.  "You’re five years older than me, huh?"
"Six," I said.
"Wow, six.  I’ve never been out with someone this much older."
I looked up at him.  "And?"
"And it’s strange."
"Really?  To me, it’s just like hanging out with my little cousin,"  I said trying to sound indifferent.
Nick started laughing.  "Little cousin?  Okay.  I’ll remind you of that later.  I guess you have a boyfriend?"
"No!  I told you, I’m not dating anymore.  Last time I even went out with anyone," I stopped.  No Daniel.  I said I wouldn’t even talk about Daniel.
He pulled me as the line went up. I noticed that I was quickly getting too used to holding his hand.
"What?" he asked.  "What happened the last time you went out with anyone?"
I shook my head.  "Nothing.  It didn’t work out."
"Why?"
I looked up at him.  He had those stunning eyes set on me like he knew this was struggle for me.  He pulled me closer to him and held me against his warm chest.  It felt good to be close to him in the crisp March breeze even if it was just for a moment.
"You can tell me.  I’m a good listener," he said into my ear.
I eased away from him.  "I don’t doubt that.  I just don’t like talking about it."
He nodded and looked away  little hurt.
I took a deep breath.  "Okay.  The last person I went out with was my best friend."
He sucked in air.  "A girl?  This gets better by the minute.  Jerry!  Jerry!  Jerry!"
I started walking away, but he pulled me back to his chest laughing.  "I was kidding Elisa.  Did I tell you what pretty name you have?"
"No.  And my best friend was guy," I said getting out of his space.  "We were best friends for about three  years."
"Were?"
"Yeah. Well, we used to party a lot.  We used to go to the bar we were at last night.  It was just fun.  We’d dance, we’d drink.  It was just a good time.  Whenever we were together we forgot about everyone else in the world.  For three years, it was just us and no one else.  We were very close, you know?  He got me through some very, very hard times and some stupid things that I did.  I trusted him with everything, and I like to believe he felt the same way about me.  I have never been closer to any other friend, boyfriend or even my sister."
Nick nodded.  "And?"
"Well, last year I decided to set Daniel up with one of my friends from school.  She agreed and they went out once.  They seemed to like each other all right, but neither made any move to continue the relationship.  Daniel, however, swung  back to me.  We went dancing all the time and drank more each time.  He seemed really worried because he was always telling me that he was afraid to lose me.  He used to say that my boyfriends would hate him.  I used to say his girlfriends would hate me.  Yet, we were both still with each other."
Nick was listening intently now.   He was standing still and watching me as I poured out the tale I rarely told anyone.
"Well, my friend finally ended up calling him back and they started to date.  I was okay with it.  Hell, I had set them up.  I just wanted them to be happy, but instead everything was strange.  I was drinking way too much all of the sudden.  Daniel never seemed to know if he wanted to be with me or Angela.  One night, I was at the OP with some other friends, and he showed up saying he really needed to talk to me.  Well, he was really drunk, and so was I.  I hardly remember now, but he was babbling on about me and him and feelings, and love, and Angela.  I have no idea.  I just know we started kissing."  I stopped and tried to contain the emotions that always seemed to bubble up.
Nick gripped my hand a little tighter and bent down to my ear.  "You don’t have to tell me.  I’m sorry."
I shook my head.  "It’s okay.  Well, he spent the night with me, you know?"
He nodded.
"And then he didn’t call me ever again.  It was like he disappeared.  I later found out he and Angela were together.  They have been together since,"  I tried to laugh, but it sounded like a bitter snort.  "I guess after having sex with both of us, he decided who was better."
Nick put his hand over my mouth then pulled me to him.  "I’m sorry.  I’m sorry for making you talk about this.  I didn’t mean to."
The tears escaped me quickly, but it wasn’t the flood I had cried constantly since it happened.
"I’m sorry.  I’m sorry," he kept saying.
When I looked up, I realized we weren’t even in the line anymore.  Nick had pulled us away under a huge tree.
I let go of him and wiped my face.  "God, I’m sorry.  I said I wouldn’t be talking about this anymore.  I said I wouldn’t cry another tear about it."
He nodded and touched my hair.  "It still hurts; that’s okay."
I laughed at the notion that he was consoling me.  "It just hurts because I miss the friendship.  I think all this time all I’ve been looking for a friend.  Those are harder to find than true love itself.  Sometimes I think that if we hadn’t messed around, we’d still be friends.  I would be happy if he found someone, but could still be part of his life, even a little part.  This way, I’m just alone and have no one to talk to."
Nick smiled and squeezed my shoulders.  "Maybe you do.  I feel comfortable with you, and I rarely feel comfortable with anyone.  I like being alone or with my family.  It’s hard for me to have friends."
"Really?  But you’re so nice."
He shook his head.  "I’m nice because I like you, and you were nice to me.  Otherwise, I’m not that nice.  I’m not that mean either.  I just like to keep to myself.  I like to depend on myself.  Sometimes, at school, it’s not easy to open up to people.  A lot of the guys at my school are close and closer in age.  They get along better, they understand each other more.  They don’t waste a lot of time on me."
I looked up at him.  "They’re probably jealous."
He laughed.  "What?"
"Well, look at yourself.  You’re gorgeous, and you’re easy going.  I don’t think I would want you around if I was a guy.  All the girls probably flock to you."
He was blushing bright crimson. "You know, girlfriend, that deserves an ice cream cone.  And I’ll spare you the roller coaster."
I laughed, and he pulled me to the ice cream stand.
We sat on top of one of the picnic tables just chatting while we ate our ice cream.  I realized how the story I was supposed to be writing kept slipping my mind.  I was too busy being happy with a gorgeous, young, happy guy who seemed happy being with me.
"What are you going to tell them when you go back?" I asked.
He shrugged not looking at me.  "Whatever.  That I needed a break.  That I felt sick of being cooped up.  I don’t care.  I’ve gotten past caring about what they think of me."
"And you’re only 18?  I finally stopped caring what people thought when I was about 22."
He smiled.  "And people say girls mature faster than guys.  Ha!"
"Shut up!" I said taking a swing at him.  He stopped my arm and smeared it with his ice cream cone.
"Oh gross!"  I began.
He giggled and wiped the ice cream off with his finger then he licked it.
"Um, tastes like lotion," he said.
I was watching him.  His finger still in this mouth as he sucked off a few drops.
I took a deep breath and looked away as goose bumps rippled through my body reacting to the undeniable turn on.  I pulled my arm away.  He’s eighteen.  He’s only eighteen.
He smiled to himself and scooted closer to me.
I watched him.  He was attractive.  I could never deny that.  I had a thing for blondes, and many of the guys I had dated were younger but never this much.
Nick continued to eat his ice cream cone oblivious to the fact I was near having a melt down.  Or seemingly oblivious.
I gulped back some ice cream.  "And you do this a lot?  You disappear from where you’re supposed to be?"
He nodded.  "Not usually for this long, though.  Usually just a couple of hours.  I don’t like to worry people, but this time I was just too tired, too bored."
I nodded unsure of what to say because my thoughts had turned to kissing him.
Suddenly I felt something cold and wet on my shoulder.  I turned.  Nick had smeared ice cream on me.  He was giggling silently.
I stared at him for a second feeling the ice cream slide down my arm.
He smiled.  "Sorry.  It dripped."
I started wiping it off.  "It dripped, sure it did," I muttered.  "I’m gonna stink now."
He started rubbing it too.  He did it slowly and easily, his smooth hands slipping over my sticky skin.
I looked up at him, "You need to be more careful.  You--."
He bent down and kissed me.  I felt his warm lips barely brushing mine.  I could see that his eyes were closed, and his hair tickled my face.
My heart pounded.  I moved an inch closer to him and kissed him back, barely.  He sank into my mouth kissing me softly almost like he wasn’t sure I had actually accepted him.  I closed my eyes, put my arms around his neck and kissed him more deeply than he had kissed me. Gently, I sucked on his lower lip then easily slipped my tongue in and out of his mouth.  His tongue followed mine as he embraced me holding me close.
I could have kissed him forever.  Then, I remembered Laura.
I pulled my face away from his.
His eyes were still closed, his face leaning toward me.  Finally, he smiled and opened his eyes.
"Okay.  Why did you stop?" he asked.
He still had his arms around me.
"I don’t think this is such a good idea."
"Why?"
I shrugged.  "Well, we hardly know each other.  And you won’t be here for ---."
"It’s just a kiss," he interrupted.   "We were just kissing.  I’ve been wanting to kiss you for while now."
I moved out of his embrace and nodded.  "Well, I just don’t feel comfortable."
He nodded.  "Okay.  Oh, I get it, I guess I just remind you too much of your little cousin."
I shook my head.  "You’re nothing like him."
 
 

"Do I drive home?" I asked before backing out of the parking space at the amusement park.  It was already dark.  "Want to go back to Las Cruces?"
He leaned against the head rest.  "I," he began.  "I don’t want to go back yet.  I should, but I don’t want to."
I nodded.  "Okay, honey. What do I do?"
He lifted his eyes to me and smiled.  I touched his soft cheek, and he leaned into my hand as he had at the mall.  He took my hand and slowly started to kiss my palm then my fingers one at time.
I watched him, his cherubic mouth curling itself around my fingers.  He looked up at me and smiled.
He put my hand down and moved closer to me.  I hesitated.  I knew this was wrong.  He was so young.  He was famous.  He was lonely.
But I was lonely too.
We kissed again for awhile.  This time, he wasn’t so tentative.  He kissed my mouth more passionately, exploring it with his tongue.  He wrapped his arms tightly around me and pulled me so close there was no more space between us.  I felt lost in the moment.  The very idea of having someone so close had become almost foreign to me.  I gave myself up to these feelings of loneliness and desire.
He was so gentle, yet so sexy.  He seemed to give up every kiss hoping just to please me.  He didn’t have to.  I was happy just being close to him.
He caressed my hair and twirled the ends of it around his fingers.  I kissed his chin and pulled away.  He stayed close to me, still holding on.  I felt him rest his head on mine.
"I’ve never felt this way," he said.
I listened to heart beat against his chest.  It didn’t matter that he could be lying or that I really didn’t know him.  I knew I’d never live another day like this again.
I smiled.  "Neither have I.  It’s never been this easy to be close to someone."
"That’s not what I meant," he said. "I’ve never felt accepted like this.  You know I’m younger than you.  You know that I come a different place, yet you’ve never questioned me.  You’ve taken everything I said and believed it.  I’ve never had anyone trust so faithfully in me.  Usually, everyone doubts me because I’m young.  They say I’m inexperienced."
"That’s because you are young and inexperienced.  You will learn everything you need to know with time."
"I think I know a lot now.  I know that I will make mistakes.  I know that I’m not perfect.  But I know that I have lived lots of things already.  I would like people to trust me and not keep reminding me that I’m so young.  It makes me feel stupid," he said seriously.
I sat up so I could look up at him.  His eyes seemed dark, his expression troubled.  It was a strange look on his bright face.
I took his face into my hands.   "You are not stupid.  You’re insightful and funny.  But, honey, you’re young.  This is inevitable.  Older people don’t trust you because you have a lot to learn.  Look at you.  You ran away from your uncle’s house, ended up in another town, drunk, in a gay bar--."
He backed away from me to stop me.  "I know, Elisa.  I know I screwed up.  I’m just looking for a little freedom."  He took my hand again.  "I want acceptance.  I want to be accepted for who I am, right now.  I don’t want to wait another three or five years.  I don’t always run away.  I’m responsible at school.  I keep my end of every deal.  I keep my parents happy.   But I need more.  I’m not a typical eighteen year old.  I have plans, things I want to do, places I want to go, but because of . . . of," he stopped, took and deep breath, then continued.  "Because of where I am in my life, because of how old I am, I can’t."
I sucked in air and watched him.  I hadn’t seen him like that all day.  He was almost angry, yet very sad.
"It makes me feel like no one understands," he said softly.  "And when no one understands, it means that they don’t care.  Or they don’t take the time to understand and to care.  Here I’ve known you for a day, and you’ve trusted me and listened to me, even confided in me.  The people I know never take that much time with me.  They all have their own best friends, or other people to spend time with.  No one at school cares enough to sit down with me and ask what’s wrong.  Sometimes I feel like I could disappear or die," he gulped.  "And it wouldn’t make a difference in their lives."
I moved even closer to him.  "Honey, don’t say that.  If people at school don’t treat you the way you want them to, your family does.  You told me that you were close to your family. "
He shook his head.  "I spend more time in school.  I hate school.  I hate being looked at the way they look at me.  Maybe I have a few things over them, but they get more respect than I could ever get.  If you’re right, and the guys are jealous of me, why are they happier than me?" he asked, his soft voice cracking slightly.  "Why are they the ones with the great girlfriends, throwing these huge parties and being the center of attention."
"Girls, parties and attention, Nick?  Is that what’s important in the end?  Is that what really makes you this upset?"  I asked searching his face.
He shook his head and didn’t answer for while.  He held my hand tightly and took a deep breath.
"I," he began slowly.  "I just want them, or one of them, to be my friend.  I want someone to go to the mall with, to talk to, to confide in, like I have with you today.  I don’t have that there.  This is the first time, with you, that I have felt completely accepted."
And there it was.  He was just like me.  He was looking for friendship in a world suffering from a huge shortage.
I pulled him into my arms and held him as tightly as I could.  He sank into this little ball against my chest.  He seemed so tall, and strong, yet so weak and vulnerable.   He didn’t weep any more than I had.  He just covered his face with my hand intertwined in his and closed his beautiful eyes.
I let him stay that way for awhile.  He needed to let go of all that sadness.
Suddenly, he sat up.  "I would like to do one more thing before I go back."
I wiped his moist face and cleared the stray strands of golden hair from him face.
"Sure honey, whatever."
He smiled.  "I like it when you call  me that.  El Paso is still Texas, right?"
I nodded, "Yeah.  Well, we like to think so.  Why?"
"Well, I’ve always wanted to learn to dance country music.  Do you know how?"
I laughed.  "Do I?  My exboyfriend and I used to compete in two step contests.  You really want to dance country?"
He nodded, eyes shining with that familiar light.  "Yeah."
I started the car.  "Let me change.  I’ll take you to Grahams."
 

I quickly changed my country dancing clothes, jeans, boots and a white blouse.   When I ran back out, he had put on another one of his new shirts.
"I don’t have cowboy boots," he said almost apologetically.
"It’s okay.  No one will notice with those baggy jeans.  Let’s go."
"How will I get in?  Is it 21 and over?"
"Yup," I told him.  "It is.  But this time, I know the door guy.  I told you I used to compete in the dance contests there.  They’ll let you in, come on."
Laura’s truck was in the driveway, but I hadn’t seen her in the house.  She was probably in the cellar developing the pictures.
When we climbed into my car, I noticed he had thrown his clothes into the back seat.
 

Grahams was one of those multi-club places.  They have a dance club, a country/tejano club, a kareoke club and a retro club.  It was Sunday night, and few people even went out.  There were always a few drunken regulars, but the club complex was practically ours.
I pulled him all the way up to the door.  My friend Johnny yelled out when he saw us.
"Ellie!" he called. "Oh my God, it’s nice to see you.  Where have you been?"
I hugged him tightly.  "I’ve been staying away.  But my friend here is from out of town, so I decided to bring him dancing."
He eyed Nick.  "Is he going to be able to keep up with you?"
I laughed.  "I’m out of practice, so probably.  What’s new here?"
He shrugged.  "Nothing is ever new here.  Your buddy Daniel comes in a lot, but acts like he doesn’t know me anymore."
"Daniel?  Well, what a surprise.  Listen, Nick’s not 21 yet.  But we’re not going to drink or anything.  Just dance."
Johnny smirked.  "Robbing the cradle, Ellie?  Each time I have less of a chance with you."
I just laughed.  "C’mon Johnny.  We’ll be good. I promise."
He shrugged.  "Anything for you Ellie.  Just dance with me later.  Okay?"
I nodded.  "Okay."
He shook Nick’s hand as we went in.  "Have a good time, son."
Nick half-smiled at him.  "Yeah, thanks."
I grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.
"He called me son," Nick protested.  "Did you hear him?"
"Forget it.  Come on."
The country music boomed around us.  One of the bartenders I used to know waved at me.   I waved back.
Nick laughed.  "Boy, you know everyone at this bar."
"I used to come here a lot with a lot with Daniel.  We used to drink and dance the night away.  These people see me coming, and they think they’re up for a big tip."
Nick laughed again then stopped because he realized I was serious.
"Sorry," he said.
We stood at the edge of the round dance floor and watched half a dozen couples dancing around.  They were playing country ballads, so everyone swayed easily and romantically.  Nick was smiling soaking it all in.
"It doesn’t look that hard," he said.  "So you used to compete in here?"
I nodded.  "They used to let in eighteen and over on Sundays for the competitions.  My ex, Alex, and I loved to dance country, and we were good too.  Well, he was good.  I was just good at following him.  We won the contest for about a month straight.  We had to dance a slow song like this, a fast one and a line dance.  We used to practice all the time.  It was fun.  I don’t think they even have the contest anymore."
"What happened to Alex?"
I shrugged.  "He fell in love with someone else.  Do you want to do this or what?"
He nodded, "Okay.  Okay, just tell me what to do."
We stood on the edge of the dance floor so that the other couples wouldn’t run over us.  I put his right hand around my waist and held his left hand up with mine.
He smiled.  "I like this already."
"Okay honey, we’re doing a two-step and it has an easy count.  You’re going to walk forward, and I’m going to walk backward.  Count to yourself: one, one two, one, one two.  It’s that easy."  I positioned myself to go backward.  "Just follow me.  Watch my feet if you have to.  Ready?"
He nodded looking down at my feet already.  "Ready."
"One.  One, two," I counted as I slowly stepped backward.  "One. One, two."
He repeated after me and watched my feet as he stepped forward.
We went around the entire floor twice when I stopped counting.
"One.  One, two," he continued.  "One.  One, two.  This is easy."
On that cue, I sped up a little and made it a point to sway along with the music.  It’s what always won the contests for Alex and me.  We both swung our hips harder than anyone else.
Nick laughed.  "Okay.  Faster, huh?"  He kept up easily enough, still counting.
We danced through about three easy, slow songs, when they started to play the faster ones.
"Oh, oh," Nick said.
I didn’t let go of him.  "Hang on."
I traded places with him so I could lead and pulled him along.  He was quick study and I was spinning under his arm in no time.  After the spin, he always had a hard time with the reposition, but it became easier with time.  After a few practice turns, I spun under his arm three times, traded places with him and spun him.
He was giggling, crouching down to fit under my short reach.
Just as the line dances began, I gave him a big hug.
"You’re good at this, honey."
He smiled, "Thank you.  I have to go to the bathroom."
I pointed.  "It’s over there.  I’ll get us some water."
We parted ways, and I went to my friend’s bar.
He hugged me.  "Hi Ellie, how are you?"
"Fine Robert.  You?"
"Still here," he said.  "I never see you anymore."
I just shrugged the familiar comment away.  "I guess I just don’t go out as much.  Can I get two waters?"
Robert smiled.  "Water?  Wow."
I eyed him.  "Don’t make fun of me.  I learned my lesson already.  Besides, my friend has to leave in a little while."
Robert served the waters and looked around.  "I saw Daniel here last night.  Actually, he’s always here.  I thought for sure he’d be here tonight."
I nodded.  "Johnny told me.  We don’t hang out anymore.  Hell, we don’t even talk."
"Sorry to hear that.  He’s always alone, though.  I always thought he was waiting for you."
I started to laugh.  "At this point Robert, he’d have to wait forever."
Nick joined us at the bar.  I introduced him to Robert and they made small talk for awhile.
Finally, the DJ went back to playing easy, country ballads.  I pulled Nick’s arm.
"Are you ready?"
He nodded finishing his water, "But you’ll have to review and be patient with me.  One.  One, two, right?"
I nodded.  "One.  One, two."
We were dancing easily in no time.  The beat stayed slow, so Nick held me close to him.  I leaned up against his warm chest and even closed my eyes.  Dancing was just too easy for him.  I felt him maneuver us through a few couples, almost flawlessly.  He wasn’t even counting out-loud anymore.
"Thank you," he said leaning down into my ear.  "No matter what happens the rest of the night, I have to tell you thank you for everything."
I pulled away from my place and looked up to him.  He had stopped shuffling his feet and was now looking down at me.
I reached up and kissed him on the cheek.
"Thank you, honey.  Thank you for listening to me,"  I said.
"Don’t thank me.  I love talking to you."
He pulled me a bit closer to him and started to dance again.  Right about then, the guilt hit me.  I had hung out with him under false pretenses.  I would even have pictures.  I hadn’t expected for us to end up talking the way we did and realizing how much we had in common.
This time, I stopped.
"Nick, there’s something I have to tell you," I said.
He looked down at me.  He stopped dancing for a second, then he continued.  "I don’t want to know."
"But Nick--."
"I don’t want to know anything that will change how I feel right now.  I don’t want to hear you say anything that will make this different.  Please, just leave things as they are."
I nodded.  "Okay honey.  Okay."
We continued dancing, but it wasn’t easy.  We both knew it was getting late, and he’d have to go back.  He’d already been gone more than twenty-four hours.
Our last song was Clay Walker’s "Watch This".  I knew every word to it.  Nick led me along the dance floor as I quietly sang each word hoping he’d understand.  The words to the song made more sense for the both of us than anything else in the world.
"I’ll show you love, like you dreamed of.  I’ve got so much to give.  Watch this," Clay sang as I echoed him.
Nick spun me twice and then made the best transition of the night.
"Don’t be afraid.  You’ll be amazed at all the ways that I can show you what you’ve missed.  Just close your eyes and watch this,"  Clay continued.
We both stopped when the song ended, but didn’t move away from each other.  I kept my face buried in his chest.  He leaned in as close to me as he could.  I had to let go.  It was time for him to go back.
A couple dancing by bumped us.
"Sorry," the guy called over his shoulder.
I took Nick’s hand into mine.  "Let’s go."
He followed me silently out of the club and to the car.  This time, I was the one holding his hand tightly.  He was looking up at the desert stars and not saying a word.
Still silently,  we got into my car.
"Do you know the way back?" I asked.
He shook his head.  "My uncle works at a hotel.  The Las Cruces Hilton.  You can just leave me there."
"What if he’s not even at work," I asked trying to keep up with the lies.
"He is," Nick said seriously.  "Just leave me there."
I drove across the I-10 all the way to Las Cruces.  Angunn was playing on the radio.  Nick didn’t make a move to change it.  He just slid over next to me and rested his head on my lap.  He curled up into a little ball and closed his eyes.  I caressed his soft hair and ran my finger down to his nose. Suddenly, he pulled my hand to his chest and just held it there, hugging it to himself.
I sucked in air.  God, I was going to miss him.  What was I going to do?
He didn’t say a word the whole way there.  He just clutched my hand tightly to himself like something bad would happen if he let go.
The Sunday night drive was quick and easy.  Because Cruces is such a small town, I was able to get downtown in no time.  The Hilton parking lot had a few people packing their cars up to leave the sleepy hotel.   I parked away from most them and looked down at Nick.  He looked asleep.  If I didn’t wake him and everyone else left town, we could be together.  We could both stop wishing for that friend that no one else wanted to be.
Who was I kidding?  He had another life.  He was too young.  He had a million things to do with himself.
"Honey, we’re here," I whispered.
"I know," he said, not moving.
I touched his hair with my free hand.  Finally, he sat up.  He looked over to the tall building and closed his eyes.
"I can’t believe I’m back here, Elisa.  I can’t believe this is what my destiny has become," he said.
"It’s okay.  You’ll be okay.  You’re a wonderful person.  That alone will carry you through everything else you have to do in this life.  You already have all of the tools you need.  You’re smart, you’re kind and if all else fails, you’ve got your looks, baby."
He almost laughed.  He took me into his arms and held me for a long time.  "It’s getting late, and I don’t want you driving home all alone past midnight.  I’m going to let you go.  I’m going to go inside all alone, and you’re going to go home, okay?"
"I can walk you inside.  What if your uncle isn’t there?" I began.
"He’s there.  I’m fine.  I just want you to know that I’ll never forget you Elisa.  This has been the best Sunday of my life."
"Mine too."
He took my face into his hands and left me with one last, long kiss.
He leaned his forehead on mine.  "Thank you.  Good bye."
I sucked back my tears.  "Thank you, honey.  Good bye."
He got his clothes from the back seat and stepped out of the car.  He didn’t look back as he walked across the parking lot.  He simply walked inside and disappeared.
 
 

When I drove to school alone early the next morning, I didn’t even have the heart to turn on the radio.  The car still smelled like Nick.  Laura had left an envelope on my backpack which I assumed would be the photographs.  I had no desire to look at them.
By 7AM I was sitting in front of a computer in the newspaper office thinking about how to write my story.  I had all of these juicy details:  lonely life on the road, Backstreet Boy feels blue, youngest Backstreet Boy feels left out.  But I knew there was no way I could write it.
It was nine before I knew it.  The screen was still blank, and I had to attend one of my education courses.  As I walked out of the office, I bumped in Garret.
"Good morning, Elisa.  How are you?"  he asked chipperly.
"Fine," I said.  "You?"
"Fine.  Actually great.  I’m going to be the only college newspaper editor to run a behind the scenes story on the Backstreet Boys.  Right?"
I looked him in the eye.  He wasn’t very tall.  He had olive skin and rich, brown hair.  His eyes were almond shape and light brown, almost hazel.
I shook my head.  "I’m sorry Garret.  I didn’t get the story."
He watched me for a second then touched my arm. "Are you okay?"
I nodded, feeling the tears form deep inside.  "I’m fine.  I just had a late night."
A smile broke his face.  "Partying on a Sunday?  Are you sure you don’t want to be a journalist any more?  We’re big drinkers."
"I’m late for class," I heard myself say. "Excuse me."
I was half way out of the building when he came up from behind.
"Elisa.  Wait.  Look, you want to go to this?"
He was holding a press pass in front of me.
"It’s to the Backstreet Boy’s conference at noon today.  They’re rescheduling the concert for tonight and want to give an explanation.  I think they’re going to donate some money to a Las Cruces children’s charity for making everybody wait.  You want to go?"
I was looking down at the pass.  It had a picture of the group on it.  Nick was smiling at the camera.
"Thanks Garret.  I’ll go.  But I didn’t think you’d want to run this in the paper."
He shrugged.  "Go see what you can find out.  It’ll be fun."
"Thanks," I said again and hurried to class.
By 10:30, I was on my way back to Las Cruces.  I knew the press conference would be packed, and I wanted to get a good seat.  Maybe, I would sit behind somebody, so I could see Nick, but he couldn’t see me.  He did tell me not to follow him, to leave him alone.  I didn’t plan on talking to him.  I just wanted to make sure that he was okay.  Besides, maybe there was a way I could get the pictures to him.
I looked at them while I was in the parking lot of the downtown Las Cruces Hilton.  There were pictures of Nick and me at the mall.  He was laughing while browsing through some men’s shirts.  There was another one of us sitting at the fountain and another of us walking to the car holding hands.  He was laughing or at least smiling in all of them.  I looked obviously older than him.  We were a strange pair.  He was tall, and I was short.  He had golden blond hair and mine was long and dark brown.  His skin was fair and rosy, mine was tan.
I laughed to myself as I flipped to some of us in line at the amusement park.  He was holding my hand in all of them, with a big grin on his face.  He was so beautiful.  I looked like fly next to him.
There was another one of us sitting on the picnic bench eating ice cream.  I cringed as I flipped to some of us kissing.  He had to lean pretty far over me for us to kiss because he was so tall. I shook my head thinking that maybe I should just leave.  Yesterday had been a very special day, and maybe I should just leave it at that.
I was still having doubts when I saw how many reporters were actually showing up for the conference.  It was going to be a packed house, and I could still him one last time.  Even if he didn’t see me.
I hurried inside the air conditioned building.  I had to show my pass about three times before they let me into the conference room.  Many of the reporters were young.  You could tell they were interns who were covering the story for reporters who deemed themselves too mature to cover a Backstreet Boys’ press conference.  Well, at least I would fit in.
I sat in the second row toward the inner aisle.  There were five microphones positioned on a long table.  The guys’ names were clearly printed on cards in front of the microphones.  Bottles of water and soda stood on either side of the cards.  By 11:30, the room was full.
They were unusually punctual, and there were no formal introductions.  The guys just walked out, took their spots while the photographers shot pictures of them.
"Good afternoon ladies and gentlemen," began Kevin Richardson.  "On behalf of the Backstreet Boys and our management I would like to extend a sincere apology to the people of Las Cruces, El Paso and Juarez for having postponed the concert two nights ago.  Our mate Nick here was indisposed, and we just couldn’t go on without him.  We thank you for your patience, and would like to further show our gratitude by making a donation $15,000 to the St. Jude’s Children’s hospital."
There were a few applause.
Kevin cleared his throat and continued.  "The concert will be rescheduled for tonight.  All tickets will be honored.  For those people who cannot attend or do not want to attend, we will offer a complete refund.  Please accept our deepest apologies for any inconvenience that this has caused.  As you know, it has been beyond our control."
I had been watching Nick.  He kept his eyes on the table and had flushed bright crimson when his name was mentioned.
"If there are any questions, we will answer them now."
"What will this change in dates mean to the rest of the tour?" someone asked.
Kevin sat up and made eye contact with the reporter.  "There will be no date changes.  We were to have two days off between here and our next show in Dallas, but we’ll just play Dallas tomorrow.  It is no problem."
"Nick, what was wrong?  Why were you indisposed?"
He didn’t look up, he just fiddled with the microphone in front of him.
"Nick wanted to taste the local cuisine and got a little carried away," AJ said.
"Yeah, he ate something that had him running for the bathroom instead of the border," Brian said with a chuckle.
Actually, everyone laughed, even Nick.  He looked up at the reporter with a huge, sincere smile on his face.
"I had a stomach virus from something I ate before coming here.  I thought I could make it through the show, but my stomach cramps were really bad," he said.
"Are you better now?" someone else asked.
"Yes, thank you," he said.  "I had some rest, and that’s what I really needed."
"You guys came off an exhaustive tour of Europe and embarked immediately on your current tour of the States.  With what happened to Nick, is there any fear of burn out or exhaustion?" someone asked.
"Oh no," said Howie.  "We’re all young, healthy and strong.  If you think about it, most people our age are loaded with things to do. They go to school, to work, volunteer somewhere, work out, spend time with their families.  It all adds up to the type activity we do.  They don’t get exhausted.  Why should we?  It’s not that different."
"Besides," Kevin continued.  "Our families are very involved in this tour, and we’re all friends, like brothers.  If someone is sick or just not feeling that great, we help each other out.  Nick wanted to go on the other night, but we had to talk him out of it.  He could have made himself really sick then."
Nick was back to looking at the table.  He pushed his hair out of his face and rubbed his hands together.
"Have you done any sight seeing on your down time?" was the next question.
"Oh yeah," AJ said.  "We went over the border the other day, and had a blast.  It must be so cool to live between two countries.  The atmosphere here is eclectic and full of energy.  If I weren’t doing what I am, I’d like to come to college in a place like this.  The pace is easy going, but you aren’t far away from everything that’s exciting."
"We also toured the historic missions," Kevin said. "And a couple of the guys went out to Hueco Tanks for the rock climbing.  Like AJ says, it’s a neat place to live."
The microphone was shoved into my hand.  My heart leapt, and I was about to pass it on, but Nick had seen me.  He was staring, his eyes wide like I was an apparition.
I swallowed hard then tried to smile.  "Nick, were you able to enjoy your stay here at all?"
He finally smiled and held me in his gaze for a really long time.  "Yeah," he said.  "If I had to be sick anywhere, I’m glad it was here.  The doctors were really good, and everyone was really cool.  I had a great view from my hotel room, and yesterday I got to go out and about a little," he shifted in his seat.  "The people are very nice here, you know?  They just talked to me and treated me special but not different.   Actually, because of this time I’ve had to rest and the people I have met here, this has been my favorite stop.  Being sick here was not bad at all."
I nodded at him, and he smiled again.
"Thank you," I said.
Someone took the microphone from my hands and the conference continued.
We looked at each other occasionally, but I noticed that he didn’t stare at the table so much.  He kept his head high and talked as easily as the other guys.  He was that bright, funny person I had spent all day with.
"We’d like to thank you folks for coming," Kevin said.  "We’ll be around for pictures for another ten minutes.  See you tonight."
The guys moved out from behind the table and into the crowd.  At first, I stayed in my seat too afraid to go anywhere near Nick and give everything away.  Then, I swallowed hard, armed myself with courage and dug out the photographs.  The guys were milling around from reporter to reporter, posing together and individually.  I had lost track of Nick in the crowd when someone touched my arm.
"Thanks for coming," he whispered.  "I wanted to see you before I left."
"I wanted to give you these," I said.  "I had this stupid idea when I saw who you were, but then," I stopped and handed him the pictures.  "Then I really realized who you were."
He looked at me confused, then smiled stuffing the envelope in his back pocket.  "Okay. I’ll figure out what that means when I see them."
I smiled up at him to look at his beautiful eyes up close one last time.  The guys were gathering back up on the stage and began shooting strange looks out way.
"I’d better go," he said.
I nodded.  "Bye."
He touched my arm as he walked away without looking back. "Good-bye," I heard him say.