“How’s that different from bi?”
“Oh, well, it’s…” I blinked. “I honestly don’t know. I’m not sure there is a difference. At least, I think it’s pretty much the same. Or, I think that’s what Nat says, but between you and me, they’re so far ahead of me I sometimes just nod and agree and promise myself I’ll Google stuff later.” I wondered if I was helping. I didn’t feel like I was helping.
Malik nodded. He’d barely moved. His shoulders were ramrod straight, and the grip on his bike looked almost painful to me.
“Malik, are you okay?”
“I never…said that before.”
Another click. “Oh my God, was this what you wanted to ask me on the field?”
“Yeah.” His neck darkened.
And I’d ranted at him about Colenap. Ugh! “I’m so sorry. I’m such an idiot.”
He laughed. And though it was a shaky laugh, the sound was really welcome. “It’s fine. Really.”
“And that’s why you came to Meeples?”
He nodded.
We stood there a few seconds longer.
It was getting awkward. I could tell he wanted to go.
“You can text me or message me or whatever,” I said. “Any time. I mean it. I know this can be hard.”
“Okay.” He finally let go of his bike and pulled out his phone. His hand was shaking, and we both pretended not to notice while I gave him my number. After that, he maybe looked a little more relaxed, but he definitely seemed ready to go.
“Thanks,” he said.
“Thanks for coming to Meeples,” I said.
He nodded, then he got on his bike and was gone. Fast. Like, maybe if he pedaled hard enough, he’d forget what we just talked about. Poor guy. I remembered my own first terrifying moment of telling someone—Alec, though that had turned out to be the best thing ever. I hoped I’d done a good job, but I was pretty sure I fell short of someone hugging me and letting me cry.
All the stuff Nat had drilled into us about being supportive was coming back now. I walked the last of the way home replaying everything I said, didn’t say, and probably should have said. I felt dumb. I mean, I’d told myself a thousand times I’d be there for anyone who wanted to come out to me. But I’d never imagined it would be someone like Malik King.
Okay, maybe that was untrue. At one point or another, I’d imagined all the guys I found attractive telling me they were gay. Usually, they were also asking me to go the prom and begging forgiveness for ignoring me all the time. I had whole speeches ready for the moment someone asked me to prom. It turned out I hadn’t needed any of them. A bunch of us just went as friends, but it was always good to be prepared.
I blew out a breath and went home. I got through the front door without any trouble and went to my room after a quick hello to my dad.
The plan was to spend quality time studying. Instead, I went online to find the differences between bisexual and pansexual. It turned out there was no clear answer, but wow did people have opinions and really angry Tumblr wars about it. Then I found myself looking at pictures of New Orleans and checking out Café du Monde. I added it to my bullet journal on my list of places I’d like to visit someday. I put a little star beside it and did a few quick strokes with my pencil of the cool fence that surrounded the café in the picture.
When my mom got home, I went down to help her with dinner. Maybe I’d crack my biology textbook after we ate.
Yeah, right.
To-Do
X Bring home calculus textbook
X Exam prep: calculus, biology
Exam prep: English (reread?)
Exam prep: French (practice exam!)
Movie night with Alec this w/e?
X Make lunch for Tuesday, slacker
X “What happened?” joke
X Laundry
Slap Malik King
Doors? DOORS! Definitely Doors.
X Alec at RC on Thursday
Hungry?
Calculus: practice derivatives
Biology: review biochem and metabolic processes
Bi/Pan?
Check in with Sportsball Star
Cole the Teenage Freak
X Concentrate at doors. All the doors. Every time. You got this!
Locked doors. One way?
Blood sugar? Hungry?
CARRY YOUR PHONE.
Eleven
“Who are you looking for?”
It shouldn’t have been a surprise Rhonda caught me out. She was like that. She watched. It was raining, so most of the student body was back inside for lunch, and most of the Rainbow Club were at our usual table in the cafeteria. I’d been trying—unsuccessfully, I guess—to subtly check around to see if I could spot Malik anywhere. He hadn’t made eye contact with me in homeroom, and other than that, I’d not seen him at all. I could see his friends at one of the tables, but not him. I was beginning to think I’d royally screwed up what I was supposed to do and was wondering if I had a way to fix it.
Thing was, he’d sent no texts, so I didn’t know if that was a sign I should back off, or I should worry, or…?
“Cole?” Rhonda said.
“Sorry,” I said. “It’s nothing. I’m probably overthinking something.”
“You?” Grayson said from across the table. “No.” He put a hand on his heart. Or at least, where his heart would be if he had one.
“Your lip looks better,” Lindsey said.
I smiled. “Thanks.”
“Seriously, though, who are you looking for?” Grayson said.
“No one,” I said, putting Malik firmly out of mind. Right. Like that would last. I turned back to Rhonda. “Hey, what’s the difference between bi and pan?”
She raised an eyebrow. I’d never noticed she could do that before. Huh. Maybe it was a bisexual thing.
“It’s just…I’m not clear on it,” I said. “I’d ask Nat but half the time I don’t understand the answers when they give them to me.”
Rhonda gave me a rare little smile for that. “Short answer? It depends. People say bi or pan to mean different things. Some think one sounds too binary, some think the other is false advertising, it’s…” She paused, as though she were aware she was using up what amounted to three months’ worth of her usual spoken words to me in one go. “Complicated.” She looked at Lindsey and smiled. “For me? It means when I looked at her, I knew I was done for.”
Lindsey put a hand over her heart, which I was pretty sure had just grown a few sizes. Grayson stole one of her fries during the moment. Opportunist.
“Got it,” I said. Well, actually I got nothing, but at least now I knew even my bisexual friend didn’t have a clue. I felt a little less like I’d failed Malik when he’d asked.
And that prompted another scan of the cafeteria. Was he avoiding everyone or just me?
“You’re doing it again,” Grayson said.
“Leave him alone,” Lindsey said.
“Yes, Mom.”
“Ugh. I am so not a mom.”
“Okay, Mom.”
“I will hurt you.”
I watched the two nudge and bump each other for a few seconds, checked my phone—nothing—and then opened my bullet journal and put a little question mark beside my reminder to check in with Malik. Then I started working on a quick scribble-sketch of Lindsey and Grayson sitting beside each other.
“Are you drawing me?” Grayson said.
“No.”
“Liar.”
“I’m drawing you both. I want to remember you fondly from far, far away.”
“He’s lying again,” Lindsey said. “He’s only going to remember me fondly.”
I grinned over my journal while Grayson nudged Lindsey’s shoulder.
“I will be remembered fondly,” Grayson said, in a haughty, put-upon voice. “I’ve come to the realization I’m worth love.”
All my arm hair stood on end, and I shivered.
“You okay?” Rhonda said.
“Anyone ever tell you you’r
e creepy perceptive?” I said. I swear, between Rhonda and my dad, it was a wonder I could breathe without someone pointing it out.
“Thank you!” Lindsey said.
Rhonda just looked at me.
“It’s nothing,” I said. Because I wasn’t sure what it was. Just…something. Coincidence, I guess, that I’d been thinking that about Grayson just the other day. Worth loving. I looked around again, but before Grayson could razz me about it, I saw Alec coming out of the lineup with a tray, and I waved at him. He came over.
“Do you mind if I join you?” he said, grinning at me.
Oh, that was how it was gonna be, was it?
“Sure, sit,” Rhonda said. Happily, neither she nor Grayson had been paying attention enough to hear my verbal vomit with Malik at Meeples yesterday.
I checked for Malik again while Alec sat with us. Nothing.
“Hey,” Alec said, nodding to the others. Lindsey and Grayson nodded back.
I eyed Grayson warily, but…nothing. Grayson seemed to be content to continue bugging Lindsey in his low-key way. Well, low-key for him.
“Crap,” Alec said.
I looked at him. He pointed to his tray, where he had a plate of spaghetti and some garlic bread, and nothing else.
“Gonna eat that with your hands?” I said.
“Apparently.” He stared at the tray, like maybe some cutlery would just appear by magic.
“I’m gonna go buy a drink,” I said, rising. “I can grab you a fork.” The line had finally gotten short enough that it wasn’t sticking out through the in door.
“Do you mind?” Alec said, ripping off a piece of his garlic bread and grinning at me.
I narrowed my eyes but decided I’d be the bigger person and get him a fork anyway. I really did need a drink. I’d intended to bring a can of root beer from home, but the usual morning rush at Casa Tozer had included my dad this morning, so I had to make my own and I’d forgotten to grab anything to drink. They didn’t have root beer at the school, but at least I could get a Coke or something, and—
Tug-snap. Poof.
I was in my kitchen.
“Oh come on.” I’d pushed through the stupid flappy-door at the cafeteria without thinking about it and now here I was, at home, and this was getting so old. I swore, loud.
Then I froze. Was my father home? I took a deep breath and listened. I didn’t hear anything. Oh, right. Of course he wasn’t home. Duh. He’d had an appointment out of town for an in-person interpreting assignment, which had been part of how I’d gotten to school without my root beer.
I rolled my shoulders and relaxed. Okay. So I’d slipped up. At least it was my own kitchen. I shrugged and went to the fridge. If I’d accidentally teleported home, I’d grab myself a root beer and save a loonie. Then, for good measure, I checked our junk drawer and…
Yep. Some plastic cutlery in a little sealed bag. One of those sets we always got when we ordered take-out. We never ended up using them, but we kept them in the drawer as though we might someday remember during some sort of cutlery emergency or something.
Well, that time had come.
I turned back to the kitchen entrance, and then I stopped.
There was no door. It was an open archway. I mean, of course it was. Most kitchens didn’t have doors, right? But I wondered if I could get back the same way I’d come. I stepped forward, trying to feel the tug-snap and thinking very, very clearly about the doors in the cafeteria, and…
Nothing.
The rules for where I exited a teleport seemed looser than the rules for where I started.
I blew out a breath. Okay. No time to experiment. I went to my dad’s office. It was the closest door, and he never locked it. The moment I touched the door handle, I could feel that pulling sensation. And I wasn’t imagining it. It was stronger than before.
I could totally do this.
I closed the door, then opened it, thinking about the cafeteria line-up doors. I’d been through those doors at least once a week for, like, four years now. It was a well-known place. No worries. Easy as anything.
Poof.
A few of the people closest to the door stared as I apologized to Cheri Madison for coming out the in-door and nearly walking right into her—mental note: be more specific when teleporting—but Cheri was always super nice, and I’d helped her figure out plus que parfait last year so she forgave me. Other than that, I was back at school, no harm done.
I’d take it.
I went back to our table and handed Alec the cutlery. He frowned.
“Where’d you get these?”
Right. The cutlery offered at the cafeteria weren’t wrapped with little wet-naps and stuff.
“You matter. No second-rate plastic forks for you.”
He smiled and opened the packet. Better? He didn’t ask any questions.
I cracked my root beer and had a sip.
It tasted like victory.
* * *
I didn’t see Malik until right at the end of the day, and he was with a group of his friends. He was laughing and he seemed okay, so I forced myself to let it go and grabbed my stuff from my locker. By the time I turned around again, Malik and his friends were gone.
I wished I’d gotten his number. I could have texted him something. Until he texted me, though…
I shook my head.
“You’ve got serious face.”
I turned. Alec had his bag over one shoulder, ready to go.
“Do I?”
“You do. You’ve had serious face all day. What’s up?”
I shook my head. “It’s nothing, I think.”
“You’d tell me, right?”
I sucked in a breath. I keep teleporting. I couldn’t force the words past my mouth, though. “I’m working through some unexpected stuff,” I said. “Like, really unexpected.”
He crossed his arms. “That sounds bad.”
“It’s…not?” I said, though I hadn’t meant for it to come out like a question. “I mean, it’s not great, but I think I’m getting a handle on it.”
“We’re okay, though, right?”
I smiled at him. “We are great. You’re my anchor. You’re my rock. You’re my…my third heavy thing I can’t come up with right now because I’m tired.”
Alec smiled.
I closed my locker. “Plus side? It’s Friday. Date Night at Casa Tozer. My folks will be out being gross parents in love, and I will have sole custody of the house for a whole evening. I can completely let loose, and they will know nothing. I’m thinking of throwing a kegger.”
Alec laughed, which had been the point. He shook his head. “Totally. Now what are you really doing?”
“First? I’m gonna take a practice French exam. Then? Biochemical processes. I got a hot date with some YouTube videos that apparently make it super easy to remember how the homeostatic index works.”
He grabbed the back of my neck and gave me a little squeeze-shake. “You’re out of control, Tozer. Out. Of. Control.”
“I’m headed for a life of chaos and fury, for sure.”
“In French, even. You want a ride home?”
“You are the best,” I said. “The literal best.”
“I know it.”
We started walking.
“If you want to come over, you can. My folks won’t mind. They like you. They always leave me pizza money on Date Night. You can get your homeostatic index on.”
“Working tonight,” Alec said. “But maybe after, if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Sure,” I said, ignoring the jab. I didn’t imagine he’d show. Working with his dad usually meant Alec was exhausted by the time he was done. It was pretty much nonstop lifting at the garage, and even a guy as big as Alec ran out of batteries after schlepping around a few dozen tires or so.
I let Alec go through the doors ahead of me, and I snuck through without touching the door at all. It was much easier to stay put when I didn’t actually touch the door itself. The sensation of it pulling at me, though,
was still there.
In fact, it was getting stronger even without touching the door. Was that a good sign, or a bad one?
“You’ve got serious face again,” Alec said.
“I’m a serious kind of guy.”
“Dude, I know it.”
To-Do
X Bring home calculus textbook
X Exam prep: calculus, biology
Exam prep: English (reread?)
X Exam prep: French (practice exam!)
X Movie night with Alec this w/e?
X Make lunch for Tuesday, slacker
X “What happened?” joke
X Laundry
Slap Malik King
Doors? DOORS! Definitely Doors.
X Alec at RC on Thursday
Hungry?
Calculus: practice derivatives
X Biology: review biochem and metabolic processes
X Bi/Pan?
Check in with Sportsball Star?
Cole the Teenage Freak
X Concentrate at doors. All the doors. Every time. You got this!
Locked doors. One way?
Blood sugar? Hungry?
CARRY YOUR PHONE.
Doors. Again. You don’t got this.
No door required for exit?
Pull getting stronger. Bad? Good?
Twelve
“So, do you mind if I have some popcorn?”
I sighed. I didn’t have to turn and look to know Alec was grinning at me. Ever since I’d stammered and stuttered my way through Malik asking to walk me partway home, Alec had been asking me if I minded things. Since Thursday.
This was getting old. But two could play this game.
“Of course,” I said, exactly like how I’d waffled with Malik. “I mean, yes. I mean, no. I mean…No popcorn for you.” I kept the bowl on my lap.
“Aw, come on.” He laughed. “Make with the popcorn.”
“Only if you stop making with the mockery.” I tried to make one eyebrow go up. I couldn’t do it. I probably looked like I was shocked or something.
“Deal,” he said, holding out his hand.
I passed him the bowl. He took it and grabbed a handful, then checked his phone again. Not that I was counting, but that was check number six. Since we started the movie. Someone had been texting Alec all night.
Exit Plans for Teenage Freaks Page 8