What If It's Us(34)

“Hey,” I call.

Arthur almost drops his phone. “Hey,” he says. Blushing. Startled, I guess.

I go in for a handshake and he’s coming in for a hug. “Oh. Sorry.” I go in for the hug this time and he extends his hand and almost grazes the Ben Juniors. I grab his forearm before he can pull away and shake his hand. Great start. He smells nice, at least. Cologne. I didn’t even shampoo.

“Thought you were ghosting for a second,” Arthur says.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m usually right on time or super late. I thought I had it under control tonight though,” I say. Ten minutes is nothing compared to how late I’ve been in the past.

“I thought I was going to have to put up another poster to find you,” Arthur says. He cringes and shrugs, which scores a smile out of me. “So where are we going?” He talks a lot, which I’m fine with, and he’s not good at maintaining eye contact, which sucks because I want to stare at his electric blue eyes. Punch me in the face if I ever compare them to the sky or the ocean, because they’re much cooler than that.

“Just right up here,” I say. A vendor on the corner is selling water bottles, candy, and newspapers, and I stop real fast to get Skittles since they double as an appetizer and breath mint. “I’m still feeling burned after green apple was replaced by lime.”

“She was still sexy though.”

“What?”

“The green Skittle. I’ve got some really gay DNA, but even I get it. She was strutting around in all those commercials and getting the red and yellow Skittles all riled up.”

“You’re talking about M&M’s.”

“Oh.” Arthur blushes.

“The green one riled you up?”

“Not really. But she was sexy in that cartoon way. Like how you know Bugs Bunny or Puss in Boots are probably respectable in bed.”

“I’ve never given thought to Bugs Bunny or Puss in Boots having sex . . . And now I’m thinking about them having sex with each other . . .”

Arthur bites his lip and shrugs. “Sorry for bringing up sexy cartoons in the first five minutes of our date,” he says. “It’s obvious I’ve never done this before, right?”

“Had a conversation?”

“Been on a date.” More blushing, like he’s going for a world record.

I really had no clue until he outed himself. It’s not weird, but the pressure keeps on building. “You shouldn’t feel bad for bringing up sexy cartoons. My best friend, Dylan, once sent me a link to some Harry Potter porn. You can never read those books the same after you’ve seen Hermione, Harry, and Ron in a potions lab shouting Erectus Penis.”

Arthur’s laugh is way different from Hudson’s. Hudson’s was harsher and always sounded exaggerated, even when it was real. Arthur’s laugh is higher and louder, and I don’t know much about him, but I have no doubts his laugh is legit. And I really like the sound of it.

We walk past Ripley’s Believe It or Not! and Madame Tussauds, a tourist trap with wax models of celebrities that people take selfies with and share on Facebook. No New Yorker is ever impressed.

Arthur looks excited until we walk past.

Next door is Dave & Buster’s. “Here we are.”

“The arcade?”

“Every dude’s wet dream,” I say. “You been?”

“I’ve gone a couple times back home.”

“Awesome. I could use some competition.”

I lead us up the two sets of escalators.

I buy my card with game credits and he gets his own. I would buy his too, but, you know. Probably better to establish money stuff from the beginning anyway. In a heterosexual relationship, it’s pretty clear who’s expected to be the gentleman. . . . It’s the gentleman. Things are hazy when you’ve got two gentlemen. The only person I feel comfortable paying for me outside my family is Dylan, but that’s because I know he’ll be in my life forever and I’ll pay him back if I ever hit it big. Hudson wasn’t a guarantee. Neither is Arthur.

There are a lot of fluorescent lights when you enter. A photo booth where Hudson and I kissed behind the curtains and made stupid faces. The bar where we casually ordered cocktails with all the confidence in the world that we weren’t going to get carded. Maybe I shouldn’t have brought Arthur here, but all the places where I know how to have fun all have memories of Hudson days. If things work with Arthur, we can make this place our own this summer.

It’s pretty packed, but there are some free games open. “What should we do first?”

Arthur scans the room. “Claw machine?”

“Amateur move, Arthur. If you win something early, then you have to carry it around all night. Let’s go race motorcycles.”

We head over. Arthur looks even more compact on a motorcycle. His feet hover above the platform when they’re not resting on the pedals. We choose the same track and rev up. I’m really focused because I always play to win.

“I’m so mad because I’d just gotten my license back home when we came up here, and now it’s pointless,” Arthur says. “It’s all trains and buses and Citi Bikes. Maybe I’ll rent a motorcycle.”

Arthur is in last place and going the opposite direction. He should not rent a motorcycle.