Slowly, Brian got less anxious about seeing the other boys in the hallways. He still hadn’t worn any of his sister’s clothing to school. Nor did he wear eyeliner. But the earrings and rings they took off at the hospital were all finally back on and he was beginning to look and feel like himself again.
◆◆◆
For weeks, Carey sat in the orchestra pit playing his clarinet and watching the rehearsals. The show was coming together well. And Carey hated to admit that Robbie Crenshaw really was great, cast as the egotistical, chauvinistic, deer hunting leading man. But Brian was equally brilliant as his goofy, dim sidekick.
During a break, a week before the show, Brian nudged Carey.
“Sara is looking at you again.”
“No, she’s not,” Carey blushed.
“Yes, she is. Go talk to her.”
“I don’t know what to say,” Carey protested.
“Just say hi,” Brian told him.
Carey shrugged. “Then what? I don’t even know her.”
He shook his head. “I don’t understand why you’re so shy. So many girls like you.”
“They do not,” Carey rolled his eyes. “Look, she’s talking to Robbie anyway.”
“She could have been talking to you.”
“I’m not really into Sara anyway,” Carey admitted. “I mean, she’s pretty, but I don’t think she’s the brightest candle on the cake.” He chuckled. “The part is perfect for her. Why are you so set on me getting a girlfriend?”
“You haven’t been out with anyone since Gina. That was, like a year and a half ago.”
“So?”
“So, how can I live vicariously through you if you’re not seeing any action either?” Brian joked.
“What’s stopping you from getting your own action?” Carey asked.
“Seriously?” Brian rolled his eyes. “I’ve got, what, maybe five guys to choose from at this whole school? Jake Heinz? No, he’s too much of a jock. Brian Hadley? No way am I ever dating someone with the same name.”
Carey laughed. He could understand that. Back in the beginning of tenth grade, Gina had tried to get Carey to go out with her friend Carrie. He thought it was too weird, even though his name had a different spelling, coming from his family’s ancestors in Ireland. He ended up going out with Gina instead.
“And then there’s Mark Reynolds,” Brian continued. He sighed. “He’s way out of my league.”
“You’re better than him.”
“Oh, yeah, because I’m so popular.”
“So, he’s popular.” Carey frowned. “That doesn’t make him a good person.”
“What are you talking about? He’s practically perfect,” Brian said. “He’s the Secretary of our Student Council, he’s on the yearbook committee, plus, he runs track. And he takes honors and AP classes. And, he’s super cute.”
Carey remained unconvinced.
“Did you ever see his eyes?” Brian asked. “They’re this amazing blue color that’s just . . .” Brian furrowed his brow and cocked his head. “Just like yours.”
Carey’s blue eyes stared at Brian’s brown eyes for a moment, then looked away. “I never noticed. I barely pay attention to what color my own eyes are.”
That wasn’t quite true. He’d spent enough time looking at himself critically in the mirror to know exactly what color his eyes were. But he never thought they were anything special. He’d always wished they were brown, like Brian’s.
“If he’s so great, ask him out,” Carey suggested.
“I doubt I’m his type. He doesn’t seem to go in for sissies.”
“You’re not a sissy,” Carey frowned. “And if doesn’t like you because he thinks you are, then he really isn’t good enough for you.”
“I was only kidding,” Brian defended. “But you have to admit that I’m not popular, and Mark Reynolds is.”
“Whatever,” Carey muttered.
Brian laughed. “Looks like neither one of us is going to have much of a love life anytime soon. Unless you’re holding out on me.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’re not interested in Sara because you’re interested in someone else, right?”
“I didn’t say that,” Carey answered, but looked down.
Brian grinned. “You’re blushing. You are interested in someone. Tell me who.”
“No. There’s no one,” Carey said weakly.
“Come on, I always tell you about my stupid crushes. Who is it?”
He was close to confessing, but it wasn’t the proper time or place. Carey shook his head. “It’s nothing. Not even worth mentioning.”
“Ha, so you admit you have a crush on somebody.”
The musical director called the students back to rehearsal before Brian could press Carey for more details.
Brian grumbled and walked back up to the stage while Carey took his seat.
“Okay, people, opening night is four days away. The big dress rehearsal for the staff is on Thursday, but we won’t have time for any practice before the performance. So that means we’ve got the rest of today, Tuesday and Wednesday. And that’s it! The costumes are coming on Tuesday, so make sure you’re here on time. On Wednesday we’ll have our first dress rehearsal with costumes, the pit, lighting–the whole shebang.”
The director was full of orders and criticisms after that. Robbie was coming in too fast during his duet with the leading lady, the dancing teacups weren’t in sync, Brian was moving too gracefully to be the bumbling sidekick, and the entire orchestra pit was out of tune.
The kids’ spirit, which should have been up from the excitement of the upcoming show, was at an all-time low. The director hadn’t mentioned any of those ‘problems’ before. And at that point, she seemed more anxious about opening night than any of the students.
The pit conductor assured Mrs. Cameron that it was the soloist in the title song that was out of tune, and not the entire orchestra. But he offered to work with her separately, as she really wasn’t that far off. The lead girl gave Robbie cues as to when to begin his part. And Brian tried his best to be awkward and clumsy, though it was a bit difficult for him.
As Carey watched him move about the stage with the ensemble in one of the musical numbers, he thought about the December recital. He really hoped, for Brian’s sake, that next year’s number would be something with a lot of dancing so everyone could see him shine.
At the end of the song, Mr. Crawford, the conductor from the Middle School Orchestra, frowned. “Cello, you need to play out more.”
“Okay, Dan.”
Mr. Crawford was only five years older than the seniors, and he’d been a student at their school. The younger students called him Mr. Crawford, but the older students simply called him by his first name. He didn’t seem to mind either.
“It’s sounding good guys,” Dan told them. “There isn’t much we can do when Robbie starts his part too soon. But hopefully, Kelsey can keep him in time.” He called up to her on the stage. “Kelsey, if he’s finished his line too soon, you’ll just have to sort of wait until we catch up. Can you do that?”
Kelsey nodded. Being experienced in the advanced choral groups, she knew exactly when her music cues were.
“Okay, one more time,” Mrs. Cameron said.
Dan looked at his watch. “It’s already after eight, and my pit has to put all their instruments away.”
She didn’t look happy, but she dismissed everyone until the following day’s practice. Parents had already been lined up along the sidewalk for pick up for about ten minutes.
“Clarinet, where’d you go?” Dan asked as the students began to leave for the band room.
“Huh?” Carey turned around. He was the only clarinet.
“Um.” Dan snapped his fingers. “Connor? Cameron? No, that’s her name.” He looked at the director. “What’s your name again?”
“Carey.”
“Right. What happened? You stopped playing for a while there?”
Carey blushed. �
��I, um, looked up at the stage, just for a second. But then I got lost and had to find my spot.”
Dan chuckled. “It’s hard not to watch sometimes. It’ll be harder when these girls are in costume,” he said. “But you can’t do that during the show. Save your gawking for the cast party.”
“Okay Mr. Crawford.” He didn’t want to explain that he wasn’t gawking at the girls. He was only thankful that he wasn’t called out in front of the entire pit.
When the boys walked home, Brian told Carey his news.
“I forgot to tell you, I’m getting the cast off tomorrow instead of Friday morning. So, it’ll be off for the staff performance.”
“That’s great.”
“Yeah, so, I’ll be going into school late. You and Robin will have to walk to school alone together.” Brian nudged him.
Carey rolled his eyes. “It’s not like we’ve never been alone before.”
“I know.” Brian sighed in frustration. “Never mind.”
Chapter 6
Brian sat on Carey’s bed flexing his arm after dinner Tuesday evening. “It feels so weird. I’m glad the cast is off, but it feels weird.”
“It’s a good thing it came off before the musical started,” Carey said.
“Yeah, that would have sucked.” Brian picked up the gossip magazine that was lying on the bed. “Why do you have this?”
“Oh, that’s Michelle’s. She was trying to convince me that I looked like some actor. I guess she left it in here.”
Brian leafed through the magazine. “Which one?”
Carey sat down next to him and found the right page. “This guy. But I don’t see it.”
“Hmm. Not really. You should do your hair like that, though.”
Carey laughed. “The last time I spiked my hair was fifth grade for Halloween. I don’t think my hair will even do that.”
“I can spike it for you,” Brian offered. “Do you have any gel?”
“Michelle probably does,” Carey answered reluctantly. Brian hadn’t been as enthusiastic since the accident, and he wanted to bring up his spirits, so Carey decided to indulge his friend.
Taking that as permission, Brian bounded out of the room and into the hall bathroom Carey shared with his sister. He returned with a small tube of gel.
“Let’s see,” Brian squirted a bit of the hair product into his palm and quickly spread it through Carey’s hair.
Carey subconsciously backed up.
“Stop moving,” Brian chided. He continued to get Carey’s hair to stand up while Carey stood uncomfortably. After a few minutes, Brian stepped back to admire his handy work. He cocked his head.
“Not bad.” He walked back up to Carey and fiddled with the ends a little more. “That’s better. You look better than that guy in the magazine.”
Carey had been watching Brian’s face as he concentrated on his task. He looked like himself again, eyes bright, and having fun. Even rehearsing for the play hadn’t been as enjoyable with the reminder of his accident on his arm. Now that the cast was off, Brian was completely back to his old self. Looking at the expression on his face, Carey had an overwhelming desire to kiss him.
He’d felt that same desire several times in the past, but always put it aside. Carey couldn’t give in to ‘those feelings’. He saw how people treated his friend from an early age, and he had no wish to be bullied. Perhaps Brian was just a stronger person. Besides, the Stricklands accepted Brian for who he was. Carey’s father, though he never really came out and said anything derogatory, made it clear in other ways that he didn’t approve of what he called the gay lifestyle. Over the years, Carey learned to hide his feelings well.
Despite all those things, Carey gave in to the impulse, and pressed his mouth to Brian’s. Caught off guard at first, Brian did nothing. Then he suddenly backed off.
“What the hell are you doing?”
“I . . . um,” Carey’s face flushed. “You’ve been so down lately and . . .”
“And you kissing me is supposed to cheer me up? Jeez Carey, I don’t need your pity.”
Carey stood blinking, his mind blank as he just realized what he’d done. He may have been harboring feelings for his best friend, but that didn’t mean they were likely to be returned. He didn’t blame Brian for being angry.
Thinking he was caught, Carey remained silent, assuming Brian would put it together.
But there was no putting it together. And there were no confessions of a closet gay.
Brian was merely angry. “I can’t believe you did that.” He wiped excess hair gel on his jeans, attempting to clean his hands. “You’re as bad as everyone else. What do you think, I go after anything on two legs? Kiss the gay kid to make him feel better? Sex is all we fags think about, right?”
Carey’s mouth hung open. Brian had it completely wrong, yet somehow Carey couldn’t bring himself to correct him.
“You ruined my first kiss. It was supposed to be special. You suck!” Brian spat and stormed out of Carey’s room, slamming the door behind him.
Left standing alone in his room, his mouth still hanging open, Brian’s words began to sink in. He plopped himself down on his bed.
“What did I do?” he asked himself, slapping his forehead with a hard smack. “I’ve ruined everything.”
A soft knock came on the door, which he ignored.
A more insistent knock sounded. “Carey, are you all right?”
“Not now, Mom.”
“I saw Brian leave. Is everything okay?” Mrs. Reid asked through the door.
“Fine, Mom.” It took everything he had to keep his voice steady.
Being the persistent mother she was, Mrs. Reid opened the door and peeked in. When she saw that her son had tears in his eyes, she walked in and shut the door behind her.
“I said I’m fine.” Carey tried to covertly wipe his eyes.
“You don’t look fine. What happened? Did you and Brian have another fight?”
He looked up at her. “I can’t talk about it.”
Sitting down on the bed, his mother assured him, “You can talk to me about anything. Even if it’s something you don’t think I’ll approve of or like. I promise I’ll listen to what you have to say before deciding how I feel about it.”
By then, a few tears had escaped. “You think you’ll be cool with anything I tell you, but you won’t. You think I can’t possibly tell you something bad. I’m not a little boy anymore. My problems are bigger than test scores or Michelle telling on me for drinking out of the milk jug.”
Jeannie Reid smiled. “You drink out of the milk jug?”
“Mom,” Carey whined at her attempt to lighten the situation.
“Why don’t you give me a chance? Maybe I won’t be so cool about it as I think. But maybe I will. And no matter what you tell me, I’ll always love you.”
“Dad won’t.”
“Of course, he will. I know he doesn’t seem understanding all the time. But he just wants the best for you and Michelle.”
She rubbed his hair while he lay his head on the pillow. He wanted to tell her. More than anything.
After a long silence, she asked, “Does it have something to do with Brian?”
He nodded.
“I’m sure whatever it is, the two of you can work it out. He’s been your best friend since Kindergarten.”
“I don’t think he’s going to want to be my friend anymore,” Carey said through sniffles.
“Why do you say that?”
“Because, I . . . because I kissed him,” he said softly.
She stopped stroking Carey’s hair. “You kissed him? What did he do?”
Carey thought it was an odd first question. He’d expected her to ask why.
“He yelled at me. He said I was just like everyone else. And some other stuff I don’t want to say.”
“So that’s why he looked upset when he left.” It was more of a statement than a question.
“Yeah.” Carey paused. “Aren’t you going to ask me why?”
“I can only think of one reason why,” she answered, then continued to stroke his hair. “I would only kiss someone I like.”
Keeping his head down, he replied, “I like Brian. A lot.” It was easier to talk if he didn’t look at her. “Did you know already?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure, but I thought maybe you did. Can I ask you a question?”
Thinking that it could be potentially even more embarrassing, Carey was tempted to say no. Instead, he nodded.
“Is it just Brian, or is it other boys too?”
He was right. It was even more embarrassing. “Um, other boys, too.”
“And what about girls?”
“I like them. Just not as much as Brian. Do you hate me?”
“Of course not. That’s no reason to hate someone.”
“But you’re disappointed?”
“No.” She put her hand under his chin to make him look up. “It doesn’t matter whether you find a girl or a boy to spend your life with. It just means you have an open heart. What matters is that you’re a good person. You’re smart, funny and talented. Your father and I are so proud of you.”
“Oh, God. Does Dad know?”
“No. That thought probably wouldn’t cross your father’s mind,” she chuckled.
“You’re not going to tell him, are you?”
She shook her head. “No. You are. When you’re ready.”
“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to tell him. Or Brian. Maybe it would be better if I never said anything. We’ll be going to different colleges and we won’t see each other that much. And maybe, once I get over him, I might meet a girl I like enough, and I won’t have to tell Dad at all.”
“I suppose that’s up to you. But are you talking about not telling Brian your feelings for him, or not telling him you’re gay?” She paused. “Or, um, bisexual.”
Carey turned red. He didn’t like to even think about the word sex around his parents.
Brian and Carey Page 5