Jay's Gay Agenda

by Jason June

  “About time you figured that out,” Dad said. He took a satisfied swig from his beer. “Now if you could just tell your mother.”

  I grabbed my backpack, pangs hitting my heart when I thought about Albert giving it to me with PrinterBot. I pulled out my notebook, the pangs increasing by about a million when I saw the Gay Agenda and all my horny hopes and dreams that had warped me into this person who wrecked people I cared about. I took the paper in my fist and ripped out the Agenda with everything in me, letting loose the anger and frustration at myself for everyone I’d hurt. I tore the list into piece after piece, first dates gone, IRL penises torn in two. My soul felt like it could stitch itself back together as the items I got so caught up in were tossed away.

  Dad stared at me in shock. “Do you . . . still need to talk?”

  “No,” I said, and snatched a pen. “I’ve done enough talking.” It was time to show people how sorry I really was. A new agenda was in the works.

  JAY’S APOLOGY AGENDA

  1.Give Max a chance to redeem himself.

  2.Show Reese I actually have a heart.

  3.Let Albert know he’s more than a list.

  4.Have Lu’s back again.

  I was about to set the new plan in motion, but stopped when one of my Gay Agenda shreds crinkled beneath my heel.

  9. Become part of a super-queer, super-tight framily

  Of all the items I had left on the Gay Agenda, that was one I wanted to keep. But I’d never be able to accomplish it if I didn’t start saying sorry.

  I raced to my room and opened my closet. A cascade of unused fabric and cotton pooled around my feet. I took a picture of the mess and sent it with two identical texts.

  I need your help.

  The Apology Agenda was a go.

  25.

  Make an Ass of Yourself

  “Jay, I’m so glad you texted. Let’s just move on from here, right? How can I help?”

  Max barreled through the front door, a relieved smile plastered across his face. But when he saw what I hoped was being read as my tough-but-tender pose, his smile drooped instantly.

  “You’re not going to just let this one go, are you?” He massaged his temple. “Lord and Taylor.”

  “You need to face your problems head-on,” I said.

  Max sneered. “Oh, please. That’s the Louboutins calling the Choos designer.”

  “Um . . . what?”

  “It means you’re a hypocrite,” Max said. “Weren’t you the one who purposely avoided telling Lu the truth? I didn’t mean to tell Lu that you didn’t have a boyfriend. And while I did let the Gay Agenda slip, I didn’t think anybody would get hurt. I thought I’d help you have fun, and is that so bad? I didn’t mess up your life. You did.”

  He no longer had the don’t-scare-the-puppy pose he’d been giving me all week. Instead, Max looked like he was going to poke the angry rottweiler and didn’t care what came next. Actually, he looked like the rottweiler.

  “You’re completely right,” I said.

  Max’s expression changed to curious dachshund as his head cocked to the side. “I am?”

  “Yeah. You didn’t cause these problems, Max.” I put my hands on his shoulders so I could look him straight in the eye. “I did. I should have been up-front with everybody about what I was going through. I should have told Lu I couldn’t go to the hoedown. I should have told Albert I was also seeing Tony and let Albert decide what was best for him. And I should tell you now that I’m sorry for blowing up at you. I’m sorry, Max.”

  “Wow.” He looked stunned, completely still other than the moon charm on his earring swinging back and forth. “So this is what sharing your feelings is like.”

  “Mmm, not quite.” I spun him around so I could lead him down the hallway and into my room. I had definitely had visions of a football player on my bed before, but they’d never looked like this. Damon was perched at the edge of my mattress, the stitching technique we’d learned in Fashion Design coming in handy while he helped me create a costume out of beige fabric and cotton balls.

  “Oh. Hi,” Max said, taking in the mountainous mass in Damon’s lap. “What are you doing here?”

  “This is what sharing your feelings looks like,” I said, steering Max toward my bed. “And I think there’s someone you’ve shut out who really needs to hear from you.”

  Max scuffed a pink sneaker against the floor. “Is this an episode of Intervention?”

  “It’s actually going to be more like an episode of Project Runway,” I said. I knew my obsession with reality TV would come in handy someday. I grabbed the fabric from Damon so I could give him and Max room to talk while I continued the costume. “And you two need to get to the confessional before you hit the fashion show.”

  “I’m FaceTiming Cami,” Damon said. “She deserves to be here for this too.”

  He pulled out his phone and dialed, positioning the screen so that it faced Max. Cami answered on the second ring. She was surrounded by sand, lying on a towel, her braids framing her face. A spot of sunscreen she’d missed stood out on her dark brown shoulder, and sounds of waves crashing in the background came through the speaker. But despite her picture-perfect surroundings, Cami scowled when she saw Max. Their eyes met, and Max looked down at the floor.

  “Yeah, you know what you did,” Cami said. “Do you know how many times I’ve called you?”

  “A lot?” Max’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

  “One hundred fourteen,” Cami said. “Are you serious, Max? After everything we’ve been through, you’re going to throw that away because you’re upset about a man?”

  Cami’s words had so many parallels to what I’d done to Lu. I’d blown up our relationship over boys despite years of friendship.

  Max lifted his head, and his forehead furrowed into a scowl of his own. “That’s just it. I was trying to get over Reese, and you and Damon kept bringing him up. Everybody kept bringing him up. How was I supposed to move on if I was forced to keep thinking about him?”

  “We were trying to be there for you,” Cami said. “You know that. It’s not fair for you to just act like you and Reese were never together. You made him a part of my life when you started dating, and I got used to that. I made memories with Reese, too, and you don’t get to pretend like that didn’t happen. You have to let me get used to the fact he left you, too.”

  “I never thought of it like that,” Max said.

  “Well, you would have if you had answered one of my damn calls.” Cami sat up, positioning the camera so we could see bright blue skies and the ocean behind her. “LA is everything I wanted, Max, and I thought it was what you wanted too. You’re supposed to join me here at FIDM so we can change the fashion industry together. You said we were inseparable. Are you really going to let me go like that?”

  Max was silent, then, “At first I was just so mad at everybody. I was mad at Reese for leaving me, I was mad at you and Damon for wanting to talk about him, I was mad at Dad and Jules for making it seem like it wasn’t that big a deal to break up from a high school relationship. But then I started to move past that anger and really miss you, but it just felt like the universe’s worst joke that you weren’t around anymore and off in college. I thought it would hurt too much to see you over the phone when I couldn’t actually see you in all this. So I just blocked you out. And Damon too, because he made me think of all the things we did together.”

  “You know that’s really shitty reasoning, right?” Cami said. “Missing me so much that you shut me out altogether?”

  Max laughed as her words sunk in. “It really is, isn’t it? I’m so sorry, Cami. You’re more than just my best friend, you’re my soul mate, and I really messed this up. I lost my mind.”

  “I’ll give you this one, but I deserve better than that. You can’t do that to me again. I know you did the same thing to your mom, so this is what you do, but honestly, we need to work on your coping mechanisms. They’re not healthy.”

  “Your therapist
mother is showing,” Max said with a grin.

  “That’s right, she is, and this is free therapy coming your way, so you should recognize it as the privilege it is.” Cami set the phone down and pretended like she was leaning in to give the camera a hug. “Now get in here. And grab Damon, too.”

  But Damon was one step ahead of his sister, swooping in to wrap Max in his arms. “I’m sorry to you too,” Max said.

  “I’m with Cami; you’ll get this one. But you’ve got to promise to come back to our games and be my cheerleader. The team’s missed your pom-poms.”

  “My pom-poms do bring all the boys to the yard.”

  “That’s a fact!” Damon said, and playfully punched Max on the shoulder. “They need to be brought out of retirement. I’ve missed my friend. Senior year would’ve sucked without you.”

  “And as Kelly says, my life would suck without you.” The Apology Agenda was turning into a sappy after-school special, and I loved everything about it.

  Max introduced me to Cami, and we talked for the rest of the night. The way the two of them and Damon dropped into a rhythm together gave me hope that I could fix things with Albert and Lu and Reese. I couldn’t give them excuses anymore. Just like Max, I had screwed-up logic of my own that I needed to fess up to.

  And I knew just the way to do it.

  “Left, right, left, right, left, right.”

  When I’d come up with the Great Behind, I’d had no idea how hard it would be to walk in. Coordinating our steps so that Max and I stayed next to each other turned me into a drill sergeant until we could finally get in sync. There were a few times when I’d wondered what it would be like to get butt implants, but if this was any indication of how hard it would be to walk with an enlarged derriere, an enhanced behind was coming off any future to-do lists.

  But maybe “become a costume designer” could go on that list instead. Max, Damon, and I worked into the early hours of the morning putting everything together. Our butt cheeks were perfectly round, the “leg” skirts were even, and the crack was tasteful without a hint of garishness. And if the handful of catcalls Max and I got walking down the Capitol Hill streets meant anything, it was fairly realistic too.

  Slowly but surely, we finally made it to the SIF building. There was barely enough room for the two of us to walk side by side down the decrepit hallway, but we made it to the workroom doors just in time for class.

  I turned to Max, cotton swishing with the movement. “You ready for this?” I asked.

  “This will go down in history as the most ass-tentatious outfit I’ve ever worn,” Max said. He didn’t laugh at the butt pun like he usually did. Instead, he took a fortifying breath like on the first day of Fashion Design. This was his moment of truth. “Let’s do this.”

  We burst through the workroom doors and everyone went silent. Well, except for one quick, clipped command that came from Damon, grinning from ear to ear at his worktable in the back of the room. “Heart, heart, hike!”

  In expert precision, the football team formed a heart shape around the worktables, leaving a clear space at the tip for Max and me to waddle into. There was just one person left sitting at a sewing machine, looking suspiciously at the football players surrounding him.

  “What’s going on?” Reese asked. He turned his icy glare to me and Max. “Here to humiliate the ‘self-centered asshole’ again?”

  I deserved Reese’s anger; I really did. But hopefully we could melt that cold exterior with the right apology.

  “You weren’t the ass, Reese,” I said, motioning to the huge butt cheeks around our necks. “I was. For yelling at you for something you didn’t deserve. For not being honest with Albert, and for assuming you weren’t hurting after breaking up with Max.” Reese’s glare didn’t budge, so I tried my hand at cracking a joke. “You know what they say when you assume.”

  “You make an ass of Jay and me,” Max said, then frowned. “Wait. That’s not right, is it?”

  “No, actually it is,” Reese said. “You and Jay are total asses.”

  Max stepped forward, breaking the illusion of the giant ass as he walked toward Reese alone. On his own he looked more like a huge, nipple-less boob. Which, based on our behavior, was fitting too.

  “I miss you so much,” Max said. He had made it to Reese’s workstation, his protruding fabric smooshing against the edge of the table as he tried to get as close to Reese as possible. “I wish we could have a do-over. I’d remind you of your auditions, I’d make sure we stopped making out enough so we could run lines, I’d make sure you always knew how much I wanted you to succeed, because what makes you happy makes me happy. You make me happy, so when you broke up with me I became . . .” He stopped, searching for the right word. And it was right in front of him, butting up against Reese’s sewing machine.

  “I became an ass,” Max finished. “I’m so sorry.”

  “I tried to explain things to you,” Reese said.

  “I know.”

  “But you were so dramatic, you didn’t give me time to talk it out. There’s an entire GIF to prove it.”

  “That’s why we’re so good together,” Max said. “We’re both drama queens.”

  Julian laughed out loud, and Damon elbowed him in the ribs.

  “You shut me out before I could explain what I needed,” Reese continued.

  “It’s something I tend to do to the people I care about most.” Max looked apologetically at Damon. “And it’s not right. I’m working on that.”

  Reese nodded, quiet and serious, while the rest of us waited. I swear the football team kept inching closer, then pulling back, like the heart they’d formed was beating while we waited for Reese to say something. And then . . .

  “I’m sorry too,” Reese said. “I blamed you for getting in the way of my goals. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Max reached forward and put his hand in front of Reese. His twin gold bracelets slid down his wrist and jingled against each other. “I want us to always be by each other’s side.”

  “Max,” Reese breathed. “I want that too.” He placed his hand on top of Max’s and pulled back his sweatshirt sleeve. His own gold bracelets gently clinked against the ones Max wore. “I almost threw these away,” Reese said. “After Jay screamed at me. But I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

  Max intertwined their fingers. “I’m glad you didn’t.”

  “Me too.” I’d never seen a look as tender as the one Reese gave Max. He got up from his stool, leaned forward, and gently kissed Max on the lips. It was short and soft but said so much. Reese really was good at showcasing emotions with the tiniest nuanced movements: a glare, a kiss. I bet he was a stellar actor.

  The football team let loose an avalanche of hoots and whistles, making Reese chuckle as he pulled away from Max. “I think we just starred in our own romantic comedy.”

  “Maybe you could try your hand at directing one too. We’ve got one more rom-com that needs its happy ending.” Max moved back beside me, and the Great Behind formed again as he stood with me in solidarity.

  Reese’s icy glare was back as he eyed me skeptically. “I’m listening.”

  “Sorry I’m late.” We all jumped and Julian yelped as the workroom doors burst open. “I-5 was backed up all the way to Tacoma.” Mr. Bogosian stopped, taking in the football heart formation, Reese looking lovestruck and annoyed at the same time, and Max and me making up the Great Behind. “I can’t say I see it walking down the runways of Paris, kids, but I appreciate the originality.”

  “Mr. Bogosian, do you mind if Reese and I talk outside for a moment?” I asked. I wanted to explain the whole plan I’d made the night before. I’d need him and the Digigang to help me out or this next part of the Apology Agenda would be over before it started.

  “Sure, but be quick about it. I don’t want the two of you getting”—Mr. Bogosian wiggled his eyebrows—“behind.”

  I had no idea an office chair could move so fast. They were, like, supersonic.

  “Wait!�
� I shouted at Shruti. “I need to catch my balance!”

  I was sitting on my knees on top of a roller chair. Shruti had attached a motor to it for her own entry in the Make the Robotics Teacher’s Life Easier contest. I probably wasn’t going faster than five miles per hour, but when you’re precariously perched on a skinny roller chair with a huge fake ass trying to tip you forward, it feels like you’re going at hyper speed. Which was exactly what I needed, because if Max and I had to waddle through the halls in these cumbersome outfits, we’d never get to Albert before class ended.

  “Keep it down!” Regina whisper-shouted. “Or you’re going to get us caught before you can apologize to Al.”

  She was armed with an iPad that steered Max in another roller chair next to me.

  “I don’t know that I care so much about being caught as I do making it out of this thing alive,” Max said, and his hair billowed behind him as his chair picked up speed.

  “Got that right.” I made a mental note to check the stats on roller chair–related deaths.

  The world suddenly tilted as we careened around a corner. Shruti steered me toward the Civics classroom through her own iPad app. If the zombie apocalypse ever happened, I wanted to be holed up with the Capitol Hill High robotics team. They would have technology up and running in no time.

  “Ohmigawd, ohmigawd, ohmigawd!” I prayed to every deity imaginable that Shruti wouldn’t kill me. It had seemed like she might when Reese first brought me over to her and Regina to explain the Albert apology plan.

  “I don’t expect you or him to forgive me at the drop of a hat,” I said. “But please let me try.”

  Shruti pursed her lips. I wasn’t sure if she was mulling over what I’d said or if she was considering punching me in the face. I wouldn’t blame her if it was the latter. She finally said, “I guess not every attempt at something can succeed from the get-go. Look at the Apollo missions. But if you fuck with him again, I’m going to go supernova on your ass.”

  “Yeah, and I’ll, like . . .” Regina hesitated. Even though she rocked the goth look, it was clearly hard for her to come up with something doom-and-gloomy to say. “Hope you get really painful wisdom teeth or something.”