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Bleeding Hearts Excerpt
An excerpt from Bleeding Hearts:
There is a delicate-looking plant native to North America called bleeding heart. When it blooms, its long, arching branches are covered with tiny heart-shaped flowers, each one with what looks like a drop of blood coming out the bottom - hence the name. It likes shade and doesn't much care for wind.
Unfortunately, we were getting a lot of wind that day. From the window overlooking the garden, I watched it blow furiously through the brightly colored flowers. Many of them had already lost their petals, but so far, the bleeding hearts were holding their own. I couldn't say the same for myself. I was feeling more and more lost by the second.
Suddenly, I was possessed with an irresistible urge to go out into the yard. I didn't know why. Maybe I hoped the storm's fury would blow me away - or at least blow away the storm raging inside me. I opened the back door and walked outside. The wind buffeted my body. The driving rain instantly soaked through my clothes. It poured down my face, the raindrops mixing with my tears. I didn't care. I just wanted to stop hurting.
I fell to my knees in the middle of the yard. I had never felt so alone. In the course of the last two weeks I had lost everyone important to me. There was no one I could turn to, no one left to talk to. I wanted to die.
Chapter 1
“This may be a `play class,' but don't expect any playing.” Mr. Tatum cast an imperious eye over the room.
After two previous years in the class, I'd heard it all before. The drama teacher never changed a single word of his first day speech. I could practically mouth it along with him, but I didn't. I never did anything that was disrespectful or might get me in trouble. I was a “good kid.”
“This is a serious drama class,” he continued. “We'll be doing serious work, and I will expect great things from you. If anyone took this class hoping for an easy `A,' then raise your hand now. I'll have you transferred to another class.”
As usual, no hands went up. All of us who took Mr. Tatum's drama class knew exactly what we were getting ourselves into. His reputation preceded him. Those who were serious about acting admired him for it. Everyone else thought he was a tyrant.
Personally, I adored him. Drama was my one escape. I did well enough in my other classes. In fact, I usually managed straight A's. Despite that - or maybe because of it - I didn't fit in. The group I hung out with was pretty popular, but somehow their popularity never rubbed off on me. I was just the hanger-on. No one ever noticed me. It wasn't like that in Drama, though. In that room, or on stage, I shone. I could break away from my humdrum life and become someone else. I could lose myself in a part and, for a while at least, forget who I really was. The drama crowd actually respected me. Not that I was friends with any of them or anything, but they respected me. That was enough.
“Excellent,” Mr. Tatum said, preparing to go on with his rehearsed spiel. Just then, the door opened, and a head popped in.
“Yes?” Mr. Tatum snapped, somewhat annoyed at being interrupted.
The rest of the body came into view - and a nice body it was, I couldn't help but notice. I'd never seen him before so he must have been new. He was taller than I was, maybe close to six feet, and willowy thin. He had red-gold hair that seemed to stick up in every direction and elfin features. In fact, he looked amazingly like an elf - even to his incredibly green eyes. I wondered if they were colored contacts. Then I wondered why I cared. Why was I so intrigued by this guy?
“My name is Seth,” he announced. “Seth Connelly. I'm transferring into this class. Here's the paperwork.”
He handed the teacher a file and looked around the room. He carried himself with an air of confidence. Not arrogance exactly, but not far from it. His eyes met mine and lingered. I looked away first.
After Mr. Tatum had mulled over the file's contents, he grudgingly admitted, “It appears this is all in order. Why don't you find a seat, Mr. Connelly, and we can continue with the class.”
The new boy scanned the room and caught me staring at him again. I quickly glanced away, but it was too late. The next thing I knew, he was sitting down at the desk next to me. There were empty desks all over the room, but he had to choose the one beside me. Mr. Tatum picked up where he'd left off. I could feel Seth's eyes on me, but I refused to look over at him.
“Hi,” he said after a few seconds. He extended his hand. “I'm Seth.”
I gaped at him a moment before sliding my hand into his. “Killian.”
He held on a bit longer than seemed necessary, then smiled at me before turning back toward Mr. Tatum.
My head was swimming, and I suddenly felt warm all over. I wondered if I were coming down with something. I couldn't be attracted to Seth. He was a guy! I had to admit, though, I'd never felt like that before.
I tore my eyes away from him and focused them on Mr. Tatum, but they seemed to have developed a mind of their own. They kept finding their way back to Seth. I hoped like crazy that no one in the class noticed my sudden obsession.
Finally, the bell rang. I scooped up my books and headed for the door with my head down.
“Killian! Wait!” I heard Seth call.
I waited just outside the door for him to catch up, but I didn't turn around.
“Hey.” He came alongside me.
“Hey.” What can I say? I'm a brilliant conversationalist. I started walking again.
“So look, I'm new here, and I'm still getting lost. Think you could show me how to find my locker?”
“Yeah, sure,” I mumbled, still not looking at him. “Where is it?”
He gave me his locker number, and I led the way, neither of us speaking a word. I felt Seth studying me as we went. I thought I should say something to break the silence, but my brain seemed to have stopped functioning. I couldn't come up with anything that didn't sound stupid or dorky. The tension grew until finally he spoke up again.
“Killian. That's a different name. I don't think I've ever heard it before.”
“It's Irish. My grandfather was from Ireland. He named me.”
“Are you close to your grandfather?” Something in his voice made me look up at him for the first time since we'd left the classroom. He had a sense of sadness and loss about him that made me wonder where the question came from.
“No. He died when I was four. I don't really remember him.”
I saw disappointment in his eyes. They were so expressive, every emotion laid bare as if you were looking directly into his soul.
“Why did you ask if we were close?”
“No reason. Just wondering.” He glanced away, then looked back at me again. “I'm not close to my grandfather. I'm not close to most of my family these days.”
I regarded him curiously. I'd been brought up with Southern manners, however, and it would have been a breech of etiquette to ask him to explain further.
He read the question in my eyes anyway. “Killian, I'm gay.”
I stopped dead in my tracks.
“I think I can find it from here. Thanks, man. See ya around.”
I watched him walk away, his shoulder slumped and head down. I'm not sure how long I stood rooted to the spot, maybe just a few seconds, maybe minutes. I was lost in thought and didn't care. The stream of people flowed around me, but I didn't notice any of them.
Suddenly someone grabbed me around the neck and put me in a headlock. “What are you doing, Space Boy? Waiting for your people to come back and get you?”
Asher Davis was one of my so-called friends. We'd grown up next door to each other and had been hanging out together forever, along with a couple of other guys from the neighborhood. Even so, living in close proximity was about all we had in common. When we were younger that wasn't as obvious, but as we got older and the other guys all became interested in sports, I was drawn more to books and drama. Although it would have made sense for me to find a new group of friends, that prospect terrified me.
“Get off me, Asher,” I snapped.
“Whoa, dude!” He let go and stepped back. I didn't usually stick up for myself. “What's wrong?”
“Nothing. I gotta get home.”
“Well, if you're in such a rush, why were you just standing there?”
“It's nothing. I've got to go.” I started off down the hall.
Asher hurried to keep up with me. “Dude! Kill! Man, what's up?” When I didn't answer he added, “The gang's getting together tonight to hang out, maybe catch a movie. You wanna go?”
“No thanks.”
By then we'd reached the door to the student parking lot. My dad had given me one of the new Volkswagen Bugs for my sixteenth birthday. Perhaps he thought it would make me popular. If so, he was destined to be disappointed yet again.
I headed for my car, Asher still on my heels. Just then, Zachary Phillips intercepted us. Zack was another of the guys in our circle of friends. He was closer to my height, but in much better shape. He wasn't my favorite person in the world, even though we hung out a lot. He had a bit of a mean streak, something I definitely wasn't in the mood for at the moment.
“Hey, Zack,” Asher called out.
“Hey, Asher. Hey, Killian.” Zack watched me with narrowed eyes as I started to unlock my car. “Didn't I see you with that new kid right after the bell?”
I looked up, dropping my keys in the process. As I bent down to pick them up, I answered, “Yeah, his name's Seth.”
“I know,” Zack sneered. “He's in my second-period class. We all had to share five things about ourselves. You know what his were?”
I had the door open by then but didn't get in. I was frozen where I stood.
“What?” Asher asked.
“The first few were just stupid stuff - something about being from Baltimore and his parents being split up - but number five...” Zack paused dramatically. “...number five was a doozy. He's a faggot.”
“What?” Asher gasped. “He actually said that?”
“Yeah, man. A real live fairy,” Zack laughed. “Well, he said gay, but you know.”
“Who's a fairy? Killian?” another voice cut in. I looked up to see Jesse O'Donnell walking toward us.
The other guys laughed. Jesse was the fourth member of our little group. He wasn't the brightest bulb on the tree. He was also something of a bully, which probably explained why he and Zack were practically joined at the hip. You rarely found one without the other being somewhere nearby. Jesse towered over the rest of us, all gangly arms and legs. Most of the time he was a huge klutz, but on the basketball court, he was a genius.
Zack answered him. “No, at least I don't think so. But hey, you're being awful quiet there, man.” He eyed me again.
I shrugged and started getting in my car.
“So who's a fairy?” Jesse asked again.
“This new kid who just transferred here. His name's Seth,” Zack told him.
“No way! How do you know? Did he hit on you?”
“No! He better not, unless he wants to end up a dead fairy,” Zack quipped, and they all laughed again.
“He seemed nice to me,” I said before I had time to think.
As one, they all turned to stare at me.
“Don't tell us you're a fag, too, Killian.” Zack got a nasty gleam in his eye. It seemed as if Zack was always looking for a target. Being one of his so-called friends didn't necessarily ensure you wouldn't become his latest mark.
“I didn't say that. I just said I thought he seemed nice. Why does that make me gay?”
“Because he is, Killian.” Zack sounded as if he were speaking to a particularly slow child. “You don't hang out with fags unless you're a fag, too.”
“Bullshit! Hanging out with you idiots doesn't make me a moron.” I slammed the door angrily, started the car, and drove off, leaving them staring after me with their mouths gaping. I had no clue where my reaction had come from. I never did things like that.
I pondered my response all the way home. Thoughts were flying through my mind like bullets and they seemed just as hard to grasp. When I arrived, I decided at the last minute not to stop. I wasn't ready to face my parents. I was still tense and confused from the strange scene in the parking lot. Driving around sometimes helped me think.
Eventually, I found myself on the bridge into Ocean City, so I decided to walk on the beach. Since we were having unseasonably cool weather for September in Maryland, I didn't expect too many people to be there. I was right. There were only a few cars in the lot, and those were bunched up close to the boardwalk. I parked by the beach, fed the meter, slipped off my shoes, and stepped out onto the sand.
I walked along the edge of the ocean, the waves lapping at my feet. I'd gone pretty far up the beach when I was surprised to hear someone call my name. I turned and caught my breath. Seth was jogging toward me. He had changed out of the jeans and polo shirt he'd worn to school and was now dressed in running shorts and a T-shirt emblazoned with a popular children's cartoon character.
“Hi, Killian,” he greeted me, only slightly out of breath.
“Hi,” I said, looking at my feet.
“What are you doing here?”
“I just needed to get out so I thought I'd take a walk. The beach always calms me.”
“I live here,” he told me as if I'd asked. “Well, up the beach a ways. My dad has a house here. I like to jog by the ocean. It calms me, too.” When I didn't say anything he continued, “Look, if you don't want to talk to me, I'll understand. I mean I know I probably freaked you out when I said I was gay, but I hate lying. I did that long enough. It's better to get things out in the open right away. That's why I told you.”
I still didn't say anything.
He seemed to have a real need to fill in the silence so he went on. “I mean, I'm used to everybody hating me. My own mother hates me so why shouldn't you -”
“I don't hate you,” I interrupted.
He stared at me in surprise for a few seconds. “You don't?”
“No. I don't even know you. Why would I hate you?”
“Because I'm gay.”
“That's not a reason to hate somebody.”
“Everyone else seems to think so.”
“I've never been one to go with the crowd,” I said a little bitterly.
“I sensed that about you. That's why I sat next to you.”
We stood there for a minute without speaking, then he asked, “Want to go grab a bite to eat and we can talk?”
I thought for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
We headed up to the boardwalk and found a pizza joint. After placing our order, we sat down at a table to wait for someone to call our number.
“So,” he began after an awkward silence. “Did you grow up here?”
“Yeah. I guess you could say I'm a native. My dad is State attorney for the county.”
Seth's eyes grew wide. “Really? Wow. What's that like?”
I made a face. “Not that great.”
“How come?”
“It's a lot of expectation. My dad always says that everything I do reflects on him, so I have to be perfect.”
“Nobody's perfect.”
I snorted. “Tell him that. I'm just one big disappointment to him. He was like this god in high school. He was the president of his class, the star of his football team, perfect grades, perfect looks, and apparently he had every girl in school drooling over him. Me? I couldn't catch a ball if you held a gun to my head, I look like a geek, and girls don't even know I exist.”
“You look like a geek?”
I flicked the lens of my glasses. “I'm five foot seven, and I barely weigh a hundred and twenty pounds. I'm not exactly a Greek god.”
“No, you said you were Irish, remember?”
I blinked a moment before he broke into a grin. I realized he was joking and chuckled.
“What about your mom?” he asked.
“What about her?”
“What does she think?”
I shrugged. “She thinks whatever Dad tells her to think. He's kind of old-fashioned, like the man is the head of the house and all that. I guess I got my shyness from her. She has a way of melting into the background, almost like a chameleon. No one ever remembers meeting her. The only time she seems at all animated is when my father is around. It's almost as if she worships the ground he walks on.”
He shrugged. “At least she doesn't hate you.”
I frowned, remembering his comment earlier on the beach when he'd said his mom hated him. I wanted to ask him why, but once again, my Southern upbringing stopped me.
“Go ahead and ask,” he said.
“Ask what?”
“You want to know why my mom hates me. It's okay. You can ask.”
“Um. Okay. Why does she hate you?”
“Because I'm gay.”
I didn't know what to say to that, so we sat in silence again until the girl behind the counter called our number. I leapt from the booth to pick up the pizza.
We made small talk while we ate. I filled him in on his teachers at school and what was good in the cafeteria - not much. After we had finished, I took a deep breath and asked the question that had been plaguing me from the beginning. “So when did you know you were gay, and how did you know it?”
He paused for a moment, looking me in the eyes so intently I had to drop my gaze. “It's kind of a long story, but I guess I knew for quite a while before I admitted it to myself. I figured it out for sure when I was twelve, but for the next few years I tried really hard to be straight. See, my dad left when I was twelve, and I always thought it was because he realized I was gay. Then, a few months ago, one of my friends told me he was gay and that he wanted to date me. I liked him so I said yes and we started going out. When my mom found out, she freaked. That's when I discovered that my dad is gay, too, and that's the real reason he left my mom. So she threw me out. I didn't have anywhere to go. If my dad hadn't taken me in, I'd be homeless.”
I sat staring at him, my chin, I'm sure, hanging somewhere around my ankles. I'd never realized how sheltered I was in my little Eastern Shore town.
“So, anyway,” he went on. “How did I know? Hmm. I just knew. I can't explain it really. I mean, beyond the obvious, my attraction to guys over girls. I can tell with other people, too, you know.” A big grin started spreading across his face. “It's called gaydar.”
“Oh, really?” I suddenly felt a little nervous. I wasn't sure why. I mean, I wasn't gay, so what did I have to worry about? Sure, I'd never dated girls, never even been interested in them if I was honest with myself, but I'd never been interested in guys, either. Had I? Doesn't everybody take peeks in the locker room? All I felt toward Asher, Jesse, and Zack was friendship. Right?
Thoughts of wrestling with Asher flashed through my mind, of enjoying the closeness of his body, of trying to hide my erection. I shook my head to clear the images and hoped I wasn't blushing.
He was still smiling.
“Why are you smiling?” I asked testily.
Seth laughed. “I dunno. It's better than crying.”
I glanced down at my watch and gasped. “Whoa, I'm late. I gotta go or I'm gonna get my ass kicked.” I pulled out my wallet and threw some money on the table, enough to cover my part of the bill. I jumped up, then paused. “Bye, Seth. See you in school tomorrow. I...I had fun.”
“Me too. See ya, Killer!”
I started walking away but stopped in the doorway and smiled back at him. Killer...I liked it!
Chapter 2
I drove home as fast as I dared without risking a speeding ticket. That was the last thing I needed at this point.
Dad was waiting as I walked through the door. “Thanks for the call. It's always nice to know where my only son is.”
“I'm sorry, Dad,” I replied hurriedly. “It was stupid of me. I had a fight with Asher, Jesse, and Zack. I needed some time by myself so I went to the beach. I lost track of time.”
“Your mother was worried.” His tone was eerily controlled. My father almost never raised his voice, a skill that had served him well over the years in convincing juries and intimidating me.
I glanced over at her. She didn't look all that concerned.
“Well, don't just stand there. Hurry and wash up for dinner. It's going to get cold,” he snapped.
I rushed upstairs and threw my backpack on the bed, then hastily washed my hands before rushing back down. My parents were already at the table. Dinner conversation was strained, as it was more often than not. But if I thought it was bad before, it was about to get worse.
“Buck Phillips called me this afternoon,” Dad remarked. Buck was Zack's father. That caught my attention. “He said there's a homosexual at your school now.” He pronounced it carefully, overenunciating each syllable - ho-mo-sex-you-al.
Mom's eyes flickered over to me for a second before fixing back on her object of worship. I wondered if that meant anything or if I was just being paranoid.
“You know anything about it, son?” he continued.
“I met him, if that's what you're asking.”
“You met it?” He seemed almost incredulous, as if I had said I'd eaten lunch with the Pope.
“No, I met him. He's a human being. He's in one of my classes, and his name is Seth.” I was fighting hard to keep my cool. Losing my temper at the dinner table would not be good. Then again, it was never good to lose my temper with my father.
“He's not a human being. It's unnatural.”
I frowned, a fact my father didn't miss.
“Don't tell me you're some kind of fairy lover, boy. I didn't raise some bleeding-heart liberal. You stay away from him. Do you hear me?”
I stared hard at my suddenly unappetizing chicken. “Yes, sir.”
I managed to gag down the rest of my dinner somehow, although I was so angry it was almost more than I could manage to even sit at the same table with him. He continued to expound his theory that gays and lesbians were the downfall of every society from Greece and Rome on and how the queers would be the ruin of the United States of America if “we” didn't take “our” country back. I could only assume “we” were the narrow-minded bigots.
As soon as I had eaten enough to be excused politely, I headed straight for my room. I picked up the phone and dialed Asher on my private line. I hoped he hadn't left yet to meet Zack and Jesse. Even though I wasn't all that close to any of the guys, I was closest to Asher and I needed to talk to someone.
“Hello?” he answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Asher. It's me. I'm sorry about today in the parking lot.”
“Man, what happened?”
“I don't know. I just get so tired of hearing that kind of crap from my dad...I didn't want to hear it from you guys, too, I guess.”
“But he's gay.”
“So what? Why does that make him a lesser human being?” I was starting to get angry again.
“Whoa, man, calm down. I dunno. I'm not saying he's a lesser human being or anything. I just don't want him to make any moves on me, you know? Or you, either. I gotta protect my buds.”
“I spent all afternoon with him, and he didn't make any moves on me.” I surprised myself. I hadn't planned to tell him.
“You what?” Asher yelped.
“Shhh,” I hissed. “I said I spent all afternoon with him.”
“Is that why you didn't want to go with the guys?”
“No, I didn't plan it. I was upset after that whole scene in the parking lot and needed some time alone, so I went to the beach. I ran into Seth there. We started talking, and we ended up getting some pizza.”
“Whoa. You went on a date with him?”
“I did not go on a date with him!” I screeched.
“Shh.” It was his turn to warn me. “Sorry. I was only kidding. So what's he like? Is he, like, all feminine?”
“No, not at all. He doesn't really seem any different from you or me. Actually, he's really nice. I kinda had fun.”
“Man, I wouldn't talk about this in front of Zack or Jesse. You know how they are.”
“Yeah,” I mumbled. “I wasn't even gonna tell you. It just kinda slipped out.”
“Well, make sure it doesn't slip out in front of the wrong people.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“So did he say why he decided to be gay?”
“It's not like that, Ash. You don't decide to be gay. Either you are or you aren't. Trust me, after hearing all he's been through I definitely don't think he chose it.”
“What do you mean?”
I hesitated. I'd already said more than I should have. “Well, I don't want to talk about stuff he told me, you know?”
“Oh, yeah, that's cool.”
“It was just some really bad stuff that happened to him because he came out.”
“Came out? Now you're starting to sound like one of them.” He chuckled, and I forced a laugh, too. “Look, I'm still not comfortable with this - not by a long shot - but whatever you do, don't hang out with him at school too much. I know you like to be different and challenge the status quo, but this could get you hurt.”
“What do you mean?”
“Hey, Zack just pulled up so I gotta go. We'll talk about this later, okay?”
“Yeah, okay.”
“Great, see ya later.” And he was gone.
I flopped back on the bed, more confused than ever. Everyone seemed to believe I should avoid Seth. I knew how it felt to be the outsider, though, always getting left out, always being ignored. That was bad enough. How would it feel to be actively discriminated against? I didn't even want to think about it. I made up my mind to be friendly toward Seth - but not too friendly. Asher's vague warning was still ringing in my mind.
The rest of the week was pretty much an average first week back to school - assessing the new teachers to see how much we could get away with, figuring out homework loads, and so on. I talked to Seth in class even though almost nobody else did. By then, the word was all over school that he was gay. People gave me funny looks, but for the most part no one mentioned it. In other words, things were pretty much normal for me. I didn't go out of my way to talk to Seth outside of class, but I didn't avoid him either.
If things were normal for me, they must have been a lot worse for him. With each day that went by, it seemed as though he lost a little more sparkle, became a little less animated. It was painful to watch, but I didn't know what to do about it.
The weekend passed by listlessly - or maybe I should say it passed away. It was such a slow, boring death that I was actually glad to see Monday roll around. I wondered if Zack, Jesse, and Asher were avoiding me. They hadn't called me the whole weekend, and I didn't see them on Monday, which was unusual.
It was raining hard when school let out on Tuesday. I stood by the door for a while until it became obvious the downpour wasn't going to let up, then made a mad dash across the parking lot, splashing through puddles and getting wet to my knees. I jumped into my car and turned on the defroster. While I waited for the condensation to evaporate, I dried off my glasses and looked around the almost empty lot. I'd had to stay after class to talk to one of my teachers about a project that was due Friday - the second week of the term and I had projects due already - and most of the other students had left by the time I finished. Even the sports teams were gone since they'd canceled practice on account of the rain.
I was following another car out of the lot when it suddenly veered toward someone walking on the side of the road. I yelled - as if the other driver could hear me - but the car swerved away, splashing the person in the process. That, I realized belatedly, was probably the goal all along. As I drove past the now thoroughly soaked person, I recognized Seth.
I don't know why, but something made me pull over onto the shoulder. Maybe it was because my dad had told me to stay away from Seth, or maybe it was because I felt sorry for him. Or maybe it was just because I genuinely liked him. Whatever the reason, I tried not to think too much about it.
A few seconds later he walked by me, his head down and his eyes averted. He probably thought I was going to make fun of him or something.
I quickly rolled down the window, and a cold spray of rain spattered my face and glasses. “Seth, are you okay?”
He turned toward my car with a surprised expression. “Hey, Killian. Yeah I guess so. A little wet, but I'm okay.”
“A little wet?” I laughed. “You look drenched! Why are you walking?”
“My dad forgot to pick me up.”
“Well, hop in. I'll drive you home.”
He grinned at me, then ran around to the other door and jumped in.
“You'll have to tell me how to get there,” I reminded him once he was settled and we'd started up again. “All I know is that you live near the beach.”
He gave me directions, and we talked while I drove. The conversation was once again carefully general, mostly about classes and teachers. We both seemed to be purposefully avoiding anything more personal.
I glanced over and saw he was shivering, so I turned the heater up high and directed the vents toward him.
“Thanks. I can't wait to get home and change out of these wet clothes.”
Home turned out to be an attractive two-story beach house with cedar-shingle siding. As we pulled into his driveway, a concerned expression crossed his face. “My dad isn't home. His car's gone. You wanna come up for a few minutes?”
I hesitated. Was he coming on to me?
“Just until I find out what's going on. Please? If something's wrong I don't want to be stuck here alone.”
I thought for a minute, then turned the car off. I looked over at him and smiled. “Sure.”
We made a dash for the house through the torrential rain, which was still coming down as though it would never stop. Seth held the door open while I ran inside. He jumped in behind me, slammed the door, and slumped against it. I looked back at him and couldn't help but laugh. He was completely waterlogged from head to toe. Water dripped off him, forming a puddle around his feet. His hair was slicked down, and his clothing drooped, soggy with rain.
“What's so funny?”
“You look like a drowned rat!”
He made a face, and I laughed.
“What exactly does a drowned rat look like anyway?”
“Go look in the mirror.”
“Very funny.” He rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, too. “I wonder where my dad is?”
He went off down the hall, leaving a trail of water on the hardwood floor for me to follow, which I did, feeling a bit like Hansel and Gretel. We went into the kitchen where he picked up a note. He read it while dripping all over the table and floor.
“He got an emergency call from Steve - that's his friend. He says he'll call later tonight, but he probably won't get home till tomorrow.” He dropped the note on the table and shrugged. “Oh, well. You want to hang out for a while?”
“Uh, I don't know.”
“If you don't want to, I'll understand.”
He was obviously lonely. It wouldn't kill me to stay for a little while. “Okay,” I agreed and his face lit up. “But not for long. I don't want to get in trouble with my dad.”
“That's cool. I understand.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out a couple bottles of root beer. “You like root beer?”
“I love it.”
“Well, here ya go.” He handed me a bottle as he started for the door. “I've got to go dry off and change. The den is down the hall. Make yourself at home. I'll be right back.”
I wandered into the den sipping my root beer. The room was furnished with worn but comfortable-looking furniture, a nice entertainment system, and pictures of Seth everywhere. Books were strewn about liberally and a computer desk was set up against one wall. It had a very inviting atmosphere.
I walked around looking at the pictures, and Seth seemed to grow up before my eyes. There was a woman in some of them - I assumed his mother - and a man in others - his father? A younger boy appeared in a few, and I made a mental note to ask Seth who he was. I went over to the entertainment center and checked out their video collection. I recognized many of the titles, some of which were among my favorites.
“See anything you like?” Seth's sudden voice made me jump. He started laughing.
“Holy crap! Sneak up on me, why don't you?”
He had changed into silky black running shorts and a plain white T-shirt. He'd dried his hair but apparently hadn't brushed it. It was standing up in every direction, as it usually did.
“Sorry, I didn't put my wet shoes back on, so I guess you didn't hear me coming in nothing but my socks.”
“Obviously. I don't usually jump and gasp just because you enter the room,” I joked.
“My loss.” He gave me a shy grin.
I blinked in surprise, not sure what to say. He was definitely hitting on me. An awkward silence stretched between us.
“Killian, I was kidding.”
“Oh. Sorry,” I mumbled. “Um, maybe I'd better go.”
“No! I mean...please stay for a while. We can play a game or something. I have a new game system. Do you like Zelda?”
“Yeah...” I thought for a few seconds while Seth stood there looking miserable.
“Okay,” I replied at last, “but let me call my parents so they won't freak out.”
I crossed my fingers and dialed, then waited while holding my breath. Thankfully, Mom answered. Without any questions, she accepted the fact that I would be home late. The interrogation would come later from Dad, but I would think of something before then.
“It's cool,” I told Seth after hanging up.
“Yes! Killer's the man!”
We played Zelda and talked about nothing for a while. Then suddenly Seth announced he was hungry so we ended up back in the kitchen. He made us both lunchmeat sandwiches.
“Well, I don't seem to have made many friends in my first week of school,” he commented as I took a huge bite.
We sat in silence while I chewed, which gave me a chance to think of what to say.
“No, not many - but you made one at least. Me.”
He smiled and, for a few seconds, almost looked as if he were going to cry. I hoped like crazy he wouldn't. Whenever someone else cried, it inevitably made me tear up as well. My dad always yelled at me for being a sissy and crying too much, but I couldn't seem to help it.
“Thanks, Killian.” His voice was slightly husky. “That means a lot to me. Probably more than you know.”
“I think I have an idea.”
We ate the rest of our sandwiches in silence.
“I don't get it,” he said suddenly.
“Get what?”
“I don't get why you grew up in the same town as all these other kids but you're the only one who doesn't treat me like some kind of pariah.”
I shrugged. I didn't understand it myself. I was risking a lot by being Seth's friend. For some reason, the risk seemed worth it.
“Do you know what your name means?”
I blinked in confusion. Where had that come from? “No, I think it's the name of a beer, but I don't know what it means. Why?”
“'Cuz I do.”
“Huh? Okay, I'll bite. What does it mean? And how do you know?” This was taking a very weird turn.
“I looked it up. There's a site on the Internet where you can look up names and find out what they mean. Killian means `blind'.”
I frowned. “Blind? What kind of a name is that?”
“What's your middle name?”
“Travers,” I replied distractedly. I was still stuck on the whole blind thing. What kind of name means blind, and who would name their kid that?
“Maybe it's symbolic.”
“Symbolic of what? My glasses?” I scoffed.
“No, of your inability to see yourself.”
Whoa, now we had gone from mildly weird to just plain freaky. If I wasn't careful, before long he'd be calling me Grasshopper and telling me I needed to have patience.
“You're weirding me out, dude.” My words came out a little sharper than I intended. “I can see myself just fine, thank you.”
“Not really.” His voice was so soft now I could barely hear him. “Not the way I see you.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I was getting a bit defensive now.
“I guess I see you differently than you see yourself. Look, I haven't known you for that long, but I can tell you don't think very much of yourself. Yet you're smart, funny, and kind...not to mention drop-dead gorgeous. But you hide behind those glasses and your friends, and no one ever gets to know you. And besides all that, you don't even let yourself see the real you. You've buried it beneath so many layers you've forgotten it's even there.”
My head was reeling. I think I was on overload. I'd heard everything he'd said, but certain phrases kept echoing through my brain. Drop-dead gorgeous? Me? Ha! Hide behind my friends? How did I do that? And what the hell was that part about seeing the real me supposed to mean? I latched onto the last one.
“What the hell do you mean by I don't let myself see the real me?” I demanded. “If I don't see the real me, then who does? You?”
“Maybe.”
“Then why don't you introduce me? I'd like to meet myself.”
“Okay, I will.” His voice was strange - kind of sad, but almost as if he had known what would happen. “Killian Travers Kendall,” he announced formally, “I'd like you to meet yourself.”
He stood up and came around the table, leaned over me, and quickly pressed his lips against mine. For a second I was so shocked I didn't move, then suddenly my reflexes kicked in and I shoved him away so violently that my chair flipped over backwards and I sprawled across the floor.
“What the hell was that?” I yelled.
Seth looked like he was about to cry again, but I didn't care anymore.
“I thought you were gay, Killian.” He spoke so quietly that I barely heard him. In fact, maybe I didn't hear him right.
“What did you say?” My voice was deadly calm, a trick I'd learned from my father.
“I said, I thought maybe you were gay.” Tears started rolling down his cheeks. “I'm sorry, Killian. I guess I was wrong. I'm so sorry. Please don't hate me. You're my only friend.” With that he sank down to the floor and buried his face in his hands.
I sat across the kitchen from him and watched him cry. I felt as though I should do something, but I had no clue as to what. My brain had shut down. Everything just went blank. I couldn't even think clearly enough to leave, so I simply sat there. Occasionally, Seth would choke out another “I'm sorry” in between sobs. After a few minutes, I reached up to rub my face and was surprised to find it was wet. I had been crying, too.
Slowly, I began to wake up. The first question that went through my mind was, am I gay? I wasn't so sure anymore. The kiss hadn't been that bad, really. I'd reacted more to the shock than to the kiss itself. Even in my addled state I knew that much. I thought about the way I had been almost obsessed with Seth from day one. An image of Asher suddenly intruded into my thoughts. What was that supposed to mean? I needed to get out of there. I needed to think.
I struggled to my feet and started out of the kitchen. I paused at the door long enough to mumble, “I don't hate you. I...I just need to think.” And then I was gone, leaving him in a crumpled heap on the kitchen floor.
Luckily, Dad was at a late meeting when I got home, and I was able to go right to my room, calling out to Mom that I needed to do my homework and that I'd already eaten.
I fell backwards onto my bed and began to cry all over again. I was so confused. Had I been blind to the real me all this time? Was that why I always felt so empty, so incomplete?
I sat up and stared at myself in the mirror. My face was a little blotchy from all the crying and my eyes were red, but I tried to look past that. What did Seth see in me? My wavy blonde hair was a little on the shaggy side. I had to admit my eyes were really blue, but they were hidden behind my glasses. I was blessed with fairly smooth skin, with the exception of the occasional zit. I supposed if I were being completely impartial, I wasn't unattractive - but drop-dead gorgeous? No way. True, there had been a few girls who had asked me out over the years, some quite persistently, but I'd never been interested.
Why was that?
Every time I wrestled with Asher, I got aroused.
Why?
The one and only erotic dream I'd ever had - that I could remember anyway - had featured none other than Asher.
The clues were pretty obvious all of a sudden.
I had been blind.
Chapter 3
I am gay.
The realization was almost overwhelming.
I am gay.
I kept repeating it over and over to myself. It didn't seem real - couldn't be real. I couldn't be gay. And yet, once I'd faced it, once I'd said it to myself, I knew I was.
I am gay.
I didn't want to be gay. My parents would hate me. My friends would hate me. I'd seen how everyone treated Seth. Oh my God! What would Zack, Jesse, and Asher say? Or more importantly, what would they do?
I am gay.
Would my church kick me out? Just my mom and I attended. Dad said religion was only for people who needed a crutch, but Mom ignored him and went nearly every Sunday. That was half the reason I continued to go week after week - it was one of the few things Mom did without Dad's approval. For some reason, I always felt a sense of peace there, even though I wasn't particularly religious. I believed in God and tried to be a good person. Did God hate me? I was fuzzy on the whole religion thing. Apparently, I hadn't paid enough attention.
I am -
The phone rang, startling me out of my thoughts.
“Hey, Killian.” It was Asher. “I called you earlier, and you weren't there? Where were you?”
“I was...at Seth's house.” My voice was somewhat shaky.
“You were where? Are you okay? You sound funny.”
“I was at Seth's house and I'm...” My voice trailed off. I was going to say I was fine but suddenly it seemed pointless to lie.
“You're what, dude?” I didn't respond. “You want me to come over?”
“I don't think so, Ash.” I wasn't sure I could face him right then. I looked like a mess and didn't know if I would be able to bluff my way through it. Why was Asher showing such an interest in me anyway, especially at that moment? He'd never really paid much attention to me before the last few days. I was there if he was bored, and that was about it.
“No, man, you're upset, I can tell. I'll be right over.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but I heard the phone hang up. He was on his way.
Great, just what I needed. Since when did Asher become a nurturer? I rubbed my cheeks, trying to get rid of the tear tracks. There wasn't much I could do about the red eyes. I flipped off the overhead lights and turned on my computer. Maybe if the light were dim he wouldn't notice. Plus, the computer would give me something to do so I wouldn't have to look him in the face.
Asher lived right next door so he was at my place in no time. My mom let him in, and he was at my bedroom door before I had even signed on to the Internet. I hated dialup.
He knocked, and for a moment I thought about not answering it. Knowing Asher, however, I figured he'd barge in anyway, so I reluctantly let him enter.
“Hey, Killian. Why's it so dark in here?” He flipped on the light.
So much for my dim-lighting plan.
I sighed. “Hey, Ash.” I was glad I had control of my voice again at least. “You didn't have to come over. As you can see I'm fine.” I was hoping he'd take the hint and leave.
Not Asher. “I know I didn't have to. I wanted to. You're my bud.” He came closer and peered intently into my face.
I looked away but not quickly enough.
“You've been crying,” he accused me.
“No, I haven't,” I lied. “I think I have allergies.”
“I've known you forever, Kill. You don't have any allergies.”
I'm very bad at lying.
“Look, Asher, I'm fine.”
“What did he do to you?” Asher's voice now held a hard edge.
“Who?” I stalled. He was making me even more nervous than I already was.
“Kermit the Frog. Who do you think? What did Seth do to you?” His voice kept climbing louder.
“Seth didn't do anything to me.” My eyes shifted away. I hated lying, mainly because I was so bad at it. I was definitely out of practice. My dad had always seemed to be able to see through my lame attempts when I was younger, so eventually I just gave up trying. Having a prosecutor for a father is not all it's cracked up to be.
“Did he hurt you?” Asher growled, taking a step closer to me. His voice was as hard as steel now and dangerously quiet.
I could feel the tension radiating from his body like heat. Surprised by his reaction, I looked into his eyes and saw an intensity I hadn't known my laid-back friend was capable of.
“If he hurt you, I'll kill him.”
At that moment I believed him.
I couldn't stand any more confusion. I felt my chest constrict, squeezing all the air out of my lungs. I was having a panic attack. I greedily gulped in a deep breath, then another, slowly calming myself until I was ready to speak. I made my voice go steely to match his. “First of all, Seth did not hurt me. Second, why would it matter to you if he did? You've never paid any attention to me before. Why start now?”
Asher blinked in surprise, and the intensity drained away, leaving something I would describe as hurt. “You're my friend, Killian. You've always been there. Whenever I've needed to talk, I always knew I could come to you. I could never talk to Zack and Jesse like I do you. I know I haven't been the best friend in the world. I guess I kinda took you for granted. You were just always there. But now, Seth comes along, and you're suddenly hanging out with him. And he's gay. I don't get it. I...I guess I'm kinda jealous.”
Now it was my turn to stare at him in shock. “Jealous? Of what?”
“I don't want to lose you as a friend. Especially not to a -”
“Don't say it,” I cut him off, an unspoken warning clear in my voice.
We stood there staring at each other for a minute. We both jumped when a loud, deep voice shattered the silence. “Welcome.” I had made it online.
Almost immediately the Instant Messenger chime sounded. I glanced at the screen. The message was from SethCon123 and it read,
this is seth...please talk to me
I quickly positioned myself between Asher and the computer, trying to shield the screen from his view. “Look, you're not losing me as a friend. Why can't I just be friends with both of you? Why does it have to be one or the other?” Then before he could answer I rushed on. “Ash, I need some time alone right now. I'll call you later, okay?”
Asher nodded jerkily and left without saying anything else. I quickly turned back to the computer. I typed,
how did u find me?.
membership directory search. look, i'm really sorry...i can't believe I was that stupid
I hesitated a second, then decided to go out on a limb.
you weren't stupid...you were right
WHAT?
you were right...i think maybe I am gay
There was no response for several seconds, so I typed some more.
i'm still trying to figure everything out...i'm very confused
can i help?
i don't think so...this is the kind of thing I have to figure out for myself
can we get together to talk later this week? it'll give u some time to think first...how about friday?
i dunno
look killian, u need to talk to somebody...if not me then find someone else
ok, i'll think about it...i'm gonna go now
ok...bye Killer
I signed off and shut down the computer, but stayed in front of the blank screen for several minutes just staring at my reflection.
I, Killian Travers Kendall, am gay. I am a homosexual. I am attracted to my own sex.
The more I said it, the more right it sounded. How long had I known on some level, but refused to admit it even to myself? There was still something strange about applying that word to myself, but I knew it was true. I was gay. I liked boys.
I couldn't tell anyone. I would just go on the same way I had. No one else had to know. True, Seth knew, but I was pretty sure my secret was safe with him. He understood what it was like to be out, and I was confident he wouldn't do that to me. Besides, who would he tell? I was his only friend. Even if he did say something, no one would take his word over mine. He was new to the town, while I'd lived there all my life. He was an outcast, I was a local. My secret was safe. I was starting to feel a little calmer about the whole thing.
I heard Dad come in downstairs, and all the fear from earlier came flooding back. What if he took one look at me and knew? Seth had known. Could other people tell? Did only gay people have that gaydar he'd spoken of?
I scrambled for my book bag and dumped the contents all over the bed. I grabbed a book at random (I think it was my history book) and opened it, pretending to read. I'd barely settled back on the pillow when there was a knock at my door. It swung open before I could even answer. It was Dad. The knock was simply a formality, and we both knew it.
“Doing your homework?”
“Yup,” I answered, looking up from my book.
“Good. Get it finished before you go to sleep.” He left, shutting the door behind him.
He hadn't noticed. He hadn't suddenly screamed at me and ordered me out of the house. I let out a shaky breath I didn't even realize I'd been holding. What was I going to do? I had narrowly escaped this time, but what about next time? What about my friends? What was I going to do about Seth? A feeling of despair and confusion suddenly overwhelmed me. I realized how emotionally drained I was. Pushing everything off the bed and onto the floor, I crawled under the covers without even taking my clothes off. I was asleep in minutes.
Surprisingly enough, I slept very well. The next day, however, was a blur. I couldn't tell you one thing that happened in school, except that I spent most of the day dodging Seth and Asher in the halls. I didn't have any classes with Asher, so he wasn't too hard. I had drama with Seth, however, and we bumbled through the whole period trying our best not to look at each other. It was positively torturous.
I took off as soon as the last bell rang and drove straight to our church. There was one car in the parking lot. I pulled in next to it and climbed out, hoping it belonged to the person I wanted to see. I knocked on the office door and, much to my relief, Pastor Mike opened it. Mike, as he liked to be called, was the associate pastor, but more importantly, he was also the youth pastor. I'd been hoping he'd be the one there since he was pretty young - only in his mid-twenties - and I felt more comfortable talking to him. He had curly brown hair, dark eyes, and was even shorter than I. He always reminded me of an overgrown kid. He looked at me for a minute as if trying to remember my name.
“Killian? Right?” I nodded, and he continued, “What can I do for you?”
“May I talk to you?” I asked him somewhat timidly. I don't think I had ever spoken to him before. I was surprised he even knew my name. I wasn't active in the church youth group.
“Sure,” he replied warmly. “Come on in.”
I followed him into his office, and he pointed me to a couch. He took the chair next to it.
“So, what's up?” he asked me once we were seated.
“I need to talk to you about some stuff.” He nodded as if to say `go on.' “But if I do, will you promise not to tell anybody? I mean, can I trust you?”
“Well, look, Killian, it's like this. If you trust me enough to tell me, then you have to trust me enough to do what's best with that information. What I mean is, if you tell me you are really depressed and you're going to kill yourself, then I'll have to tell someone to protect you. But if you just need some advice or clarification on something, then I think we should be able to keep it confidential.”
I looked at him for a minute, weighing my options. If I talked to him, he might go to my parents. I really needed to talk to someone, though, and I felt I could trust him. He sat across from me, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, waiting to see what I decided.
Finally, I made up my mind. “Well, maybe you can answer some questions first.”
“I don't pretend to know all the answers, but I'll do the best I can.” He was very sincere.
I nodded. “Does God hate gay people?”
Mike sat back in his chair and let out a little breath - not a gasp, more like a hiss. “Yowzers. You sure like to start with the hard questions, don't you?”
I tried to smile but couldn't quite pull it off. He saw this and quickly moved on.
“Actually, some people like to make that a hard question, but the answer is quite easy. No. God loves gay people just as much as He loves the pastor or Mother Teresa or anybody else. But I have a feeling that's not really what you're here to ask.”
“What if...what if someone in the church were gay? Would they be kicked out?”
“No, I don't know of anyone ever getting kicked out of our church. You come fairly often, Killian. Think about what you see when you're here on Sunday mornings. We have a very open church. Everyone is welcome. It doesn't matter what color your skin is or what color your hair is or what you're wearing.”
He was right. We had interracial couples, people with enough metal pierced through their skin to piece together a Volvo, people with bright fire-engine-red hair - and they were all accepted.
He continued, “We believe that God's love is for everyone, not just a select few. And you don't have to be `good enough' to meet His standards. He meets you where you are. Am I making any sense here?”
“I think so,” I replied. “So does that mean it's okay to be gay? Doesn't the Bible say it's wrong?”
“Killian, that's a question I don't think I can answer for you. I've not studied it enough. Some people would say yes, the Bible lists it as a sin. Jesus himself never actually mentioned it, though Paul does a couple times. Then again, Paul also said women shouldn't