Rocco
“I hope this is Rocco. How are you?”
The text that came through startled Rocco. He was working on inputting grades for all his classes which was a mind-numbing task. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to look at the screen. Who was this? He didn’t recognize the number, and his phone did not have a suggested name. The text was from an area code he had never seen.
Wanting to be cool and nonchalant, he replied, “Who dis.”
He knew that was rather outdated, but he always thought it was funny. After a few minutes with no response, he pushed his glasses up higher on his face and went back to his grading. A few more minutes passed before his phone vibrated again.
“Mike.”
Mike…. that narrows nothing down. In his fifty years on earth, he must have met hundreds of Mikes. There was Mike, his best friend and fraternity brother from college. Mike kept the same number for at least 20 years and wouldn’t have changed it without a warning. There was Mike, the principal of his school. He hadn’t given Mike, his boss, this phone number—work/life balance. He had many acquaintances named Mike who he had given his number to. There were many Mikes over the years. However, the texter called him Rocco. He hadn’t used that name since high school. He started going by Mark, anglicizing his first name, when he started college in an attempt to move past his high school days. Then, his heart stopped momentarily. A flash of white-hot panic radiated throughout his body. No way, he thought. Not that Mike. Mike Barber? A bead of sweat started to form on his brow.
“Mike who?” Rocco responded. It could not be that Mike. The Mike from high school? There’s no way it was that Mike.
It was another few minutes before his phone vibrated again—
“Mike Barber from High School…. remember me?”
Rocco slammed his phone down. The fuck? Remember me? Of course he did. Mike—his first love! His first boyfriend.
He had to get up and get some blood flowing through his body or he would pass out. The sudden change from panic to excitement put a such a stress on his breathing that his head began to pound. What in the hell was going on? It had been decades since he had even thought about Mike, much less interacted with him. The last time he saw Mike was over 30 years ago. Although most of the details had faded from his memory, he will never forget the feelings he felt all those years ago. They had shared the most intimate moments imaginable for two human beings.
Rocco had to scurry off to the bathroom to gain his composure. Would he respond back? What was he going to say? Why did this man come back into his life at this moment, 32 years later?
It seemed every couple of years, he would be curious as to what Mike was doing these days. He would get caught up in his current life but suddenly, something would remind him of Mike and make him want to see what he was up to these days. It could be a scent that reminded him of Mike. It could be the sight of a pair of vintage Duckhead shorts which Mike always wore. It could be the sound of a stranger’s voice which reminded him of Mike’s voice or speech pattern.
Rocco kept tabs on Mike through social media. He was too afraid to ask Mike to friend him. Mike had a Facebook and Instagram profile but it was set on Private so Rocco could only see a picture of a lake. Mike Barber did not share pictures of himself to the general public on his social media. Since those moments of curiosity never led anywhere, Rocco would move on with his day and completely forget about Mike until the next time he was reminded of him.
“Remember you? How the fuck could I forget such a dickhead like you?” he typed. He stared at his phone’s send button. No…delete, delete, delete. He didn’t want to send that. He didn’t want Mike to know he was irate for not keeping up with him after all this time. He didn’t want Mike to know how much time Rocco had spent burning for him. That would give him too much power. He cleared out the message.
“Oh yeah, what’s up?” No, not that either. That was too nonchalant. Delete, delete, delete. After all, Mike was the first man Rocco had ever loved. Every relationship he had would be compared to his relationship with Mike even if Rocco was not fully aware of it. He would always compare every man to Mike, so he at least deserved better than that.
Rocco locked himself into a stall. The last thing he wanted was a coworker or a student coming in and seeing how visibly upset he was. This was not something he wanted to talk about to anyone right now. Everyone in the school all knew that Rocco was gay—he made no effort to hide anything about himself. However, this was too personal to talk about with anyone right now. Rocco liked to keep his personal life and work life very separate.
What to say…something that was personal enough, yet calm and collected. Something neutral.
“Hey Mike. Of course I remember you. How are you?”
Mike
Mike Barber had been agonizing over this simple text for quite some time. Mike was hoping this was the right number. There are not many Marcus Antonius Rocios in this world. He was able to track down a few possible candidates rather easily. He found some social media profiles, but they were locked so he could not see any pictures other than beach photos.
He came across a Linked In profile with a professional picture. This was Rocco’s profile. Even though Rocco was now 50 years old, he had the same eyes, and the same crooked half smile that Mike had fallen in love with. According to this LinkedIn profile, Rocco had been a music teacher in a handful of public-school districts over the years. His most recent job was teaching music in a high school in Cincinnati. Buried in the profile was a resume. Mike saw that Rocco had graduated from Vanderbilt with a bachelor’s in music. He had attended the University of Tennessee to obtain his master’s and his teaching credentials. Mike remembered Rocco talking all those years ago about wanting to be a music teacher. Mike’s heart warmed at the thought that his skater punk ex-boyfriend had pursued his dreams. Mike also saw that Rocco had taught in the public-school systems of Knoxville, Nashville, and Louisville. The longest job he had on his resume was his current job in Cincinnati. Mike wondered what events in Rocco’s life led him to Ohio and not to California.
There was a phone number on the resume. Mike did a little research on the number. It was a Cincinnati area code, so it was possible that this was Rocco’s current phone number. However, Mike also saw the most recent entry in the resume was from 10 years ago, so it was also possible that the phone number was no longer valid. It was a worth a shot, however.
Mike had just attended his 30-year high school reunion. Ever since then, he could not stop thinking about Rocco. He would always think about Rocco every couple of weeks throughout his lifetime. A shade of melancholy veined his existence. Once Rocco graduated high school and went off to college, it seemed as if everyone had forgotten about Mike and Rocco being boyfriends. The next year was almost like a clean slate. Mike dated a couple of girls for extended periods of times over his last two years in high school. He also had some short-term romances with a couple of boys. No one ever matched up to the love he kept for Rocco. No one ever understood him like Rocco did.
“I hope this is Rocco. How are you?”
As soon as he typed the message, he put the phone down. If this number was even a mobile, would it even get to Rocco? And if it did, would Rocco even remember him? And if he even remembered him, would Rocco reply? The last time they saw each was such an emotional event. Mike wasn’t sure if Rocco would want to have anything to do with him after his breakup letter. Mike still regretted making that decision. For everything the two shared, Rocco deserved a face-to-face breakup. Mike wanted so desperately to reconnect over the years but fear always got in the way. He tried so many times to get in touch with Rocco, but he just seemed to lose his nerve. He was afraid that he would be intruding on Rocco’s life. He was certain that Rocco had found his soulmate after all these years. Mike loved Rocco too much to burden him with reappearing in his life out of nowhere. Mike also had to face the reality that Rocco was his soulmate and that he had turned his back on his soulmate 30 years ago. Mike’s phone went off.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
“Who dis”
This had to be Rocco. Only Rocco would reply like that. It made him chuckle. His heart warmed. This was the Rocco that he fell in love with. Mike’s fingers started to quiver in anxiety. Now that he knew everything fell in place, how could he enter Rocco’s life again just out of the blue after all these years and after all they had been through? He swallowed the knots in his throat down into his stomach and breathed out a heavy sigh. Okay, Mike, be cool…
“Mike”
He breathed in and anxiously held his breath in the hopes that Rocco would know who this was. Mike was such a common name. In the decades that have passed, Rocco must have met at least a hundred Mikes. What is the likelihood he knew who this was. But surely, he remembered. Their relationship was such a huge part of Mike’s life, it surely meant the same for Rocco. Rocco had sparked the flame for Mike to explore his sexuality. There was never a relationship after Rocco that even compared. Was the importance of his time with Rocco a figment of Mike’s imagination this entire time?
“Mike who?”
Mike’s heart sunk. Of course, it was logical that there were many Mikes in Rocco’s life, but, after everything, it just seemed he meant something more to Rocco. Mike started to feel a little embarrassed that he was so self-centered as to assume that Rocco instantly knew who he was.
Alright Mike, he thought, this is what you wanted. He ran his fingers through his graying strawberry blond hair and scratched his equally graying auburn beard. He took a deep breath and texted:
“Mike Barber from High School…. remember me?”
He waited to see if Rocco would respond back. Mike watched his phone impatiently. Every second seemed like agonizing years. Tick-tock, tick-tock. Mike couldn’t stop looking at his phone. The message was marked “Seen” so he knew Rocco was thinking of him. Then the iconic “…” appeared and then disappeared. Oh man, Rocco was trying to think about how to respond. There was no telling what was going to come across the screen.
Again “…” appeared and then disappeared. This was torture. Why would they program a phone to do this? An eternity seemed to pass. Mike’s nerves were wrecked. His forehead was glistening with terror sweat. Even after all this mental preparation, he was ready for the rejection that he was sure to get from Rocco.
“Hey Mike. Of course I remember you. How are you?”
Mike breathed a sigh of relief. At least Rocco was willing to engage in conversation. Mike didn’t know what to say at this point. He had spent so much time agonizing on whether or not Rocco would respond to a text after all these years that he failed to consider what to do next. He calmly put his phone down and stepped away from his drafting table. He had to think about what his next step would be. What would he say next?
He walked into the kitchen of his suburban Atlanta home and got a bottle of water from the refrigerator. He paced a minute in the kitchen then returned to the table. He picked up his phone and stared at it. He then started to text.
“I’m good. I’m happy this is you.” Mike paused for a moment. He thought about texting “I’ve been thinking about you a lot” but thought that would be too forward to say to someone he hadn’t seen in 30 years. He saw the “Seen” alert. Soon, the “…” started to appear.
“How did you get my phone number?” Rocco asked. Mike looked off to the side. He was just going to be honest despite the fact this meant Mike would be confessing to cyberstalking. Mike didn’t really care. He was just happy to be chatting with Rocco again.
“I saw a resume on your LinkedIn profile. It had a phone number. I tried it…here we are” Mike responded. Almost immediately, he saw that Rocco had seen the text. Mike anxiously awaited a response. He stared at his phone for five minutes waiting for the “…” They did not appear until a few minutes later.
“I’m glad you did” Rocco responded. Mike’s heart leaped with joy. Rocco was glad that Mike got back in touch with him! Now, he wished that he hadn’t waited so long. There was nothing he could about that, however. Mike thought for a minute about what to type. Then, it came to him.
“I see you are in Cincinnati. I’m going to be up there for business next week. Would you want to have dinner and catch up?” Mike slammed his phone down. He shocked himself with his own brazen audacity. He also did not have any business in Cincinnati. He was using this as an excuse see Rocco again. Hopefully, it would work. His phone dinged. Mike eagerly grabbed it to look at the response.
“That sounds great. What day will you be in town?” Rocco replied. Mike smiled widely at the thought that Rocco was receptive to meeting. Mike would get to see Rocco again after all these years. He could say that he’ll be in town tomorrow. It was a made-up business trip after all. However, Mike wanted to stick to his story.
“Next Thursday,” Mike replied arbitrarily picking a day.
“OK. Text me when you get into town,” Rocco responded. Mike wanted to jump up and down with joy. Another response came through. “btw I go by Mark now”
Mike looked up from his phone. Mark? It was going to be tough to call him Mark after knowing him as Rocco all these years. Mike would of course respect this but could not guarantee that he wouldn’t slip up.
“I’ll try to remember but can’t promise. You’ll always be Rocco to me,” Mike responded.
Rocco replied with a smiley face and “No problem”.
Now, all Mike had to do was get to Cincinnati and try to win back Rocco.
Rocco
Mark wanted to ask Mike to send him a picture. He couldn’t find any hint of Mike Barber on the internet. He wondered what he looked like these days. He had a vague recollection of what he looked like from high school; however, his image of Mike was no longer clear. He remembered he had red hair—all over. He remembered he wore glasses. He remembered all his freckles. Everything else about him was blur except one thing that stood out the most—his smell. In all his relationships he had had over the past 30 years, no one ever smelled like Mike. He had an unmistakable sweet musky scent that drove Mark insane. He had met one other guy in college who was close in scent. Several times, Mark had to catch himself from calling him Mike. There was just something about Mike’s scent that attracted Mark.
Mark’s phone went off. Mike had replied “I’m good. I’m happy this is you.” Mark was cautiously happy. He wanted to be happy that an ex was trying to reconnect with him. What kept him from being happy was the way Mike dumped him—via letter.
“How did you get my phone number?” Mark asked. Mark was curious if his number was floating out on the internet. Of course, since he was a schoolteacher, his work number was out there mostly on phone lists that go out to parents each year.
“I saw a resume on your LinkedIn profile. It had a phone number. I tried it…here we are” Mike responded. Of course, he remembered now. He was considering applying for a job a few years back at private schools in the area and put his resume out for prospective applications. He had all but forgotten about that. The principal of his school was a straight up homophobe and gave many of the teachers including himself lots of grief. The school district was dragging ass on any kind of reprimands, so Mark was eager to leave the district. It didn’t take long for the district to fire that principal albeit for other reasons. Since then, the district hired a principal who was an ally. That rabbit hole of thought made Mark forget for a few minutes about Mike texting.
“I’m glad you did” Mark responded. Mark didn’t care that Mike found his phone number. He was a little flattered that his ex took the time to find him.
“I see you are in Cincinnati. I’m going to be up there for business next week. Would you want to have dinner and catch up?” Mark felt his mouth go dry at the thought of meeting up with Mike again. His nerves went into overdrive. Of course, he wanted to see the man that Mike had become. He wanted to catch up and find out what Mike was doing. However, he wasn’t completely sure he was ready to meet up with him again. Mark paced the room a moment. If he wasn’t ready after 30 years, he never would be. Mark thought a moment longer. It was just dinner—nothing more.
“That sounds great. What day will you be in town?” Mark replied. Mark convinced himself that nothing bad would come of this. The best he would hope for out of this dinner meeting would be to see Mike after all these years and to learn how he turned out.
“Next Thursday,” Mike replied. Ok, they had a definite date in the books. Mark was reluctant to go any further. The last time they had a date set up was when he called Mike upon his return from Hawaii. That call did not turn out so well.
“OK. Text me when you get into town” Mark responded. He tried to be cool about the whole situation. He didn’t want to get his hopes up about this dinner. Mark felt a little indifferent at this point. He was happy to be having dinner with the love of his life, but didn’t want to make too much of it. Mark remembered to make a point: “btw I go by Mark now”
“I’ll try to remember but can’t promise. You’ll always be Rocco to me” Mike responded. Mark chuckled out loud. Of course, he was always going to be Rocco. Rocco, though, was a very delineated point in time for him. When he started going by Mark, it was the point in which he had decided that he was going to be a new person. Rocco was the skater punk he used to be in high school. Mark was the man that skater punk had become. Still, it brought up a lot of feelings of nostalgia to be called Rocco again.
Mark replied with a smiley face and “No problem”.
Just this once since high school, he looked forward to being called Rocco.