by A J Walkley
I was on my last lap up the pool when I registered Becca’s voice from above.
“Go Greer! You can do this, I know it! Just a little faster!”
With everything in me, I lunged for the wall and in one smooth movement, raised myself onto solid ground again.
“Greer MacManus comes in at 1:54.96. Gretchen Peterson at 1:55.00.”
Before I registered the times, I was flanked by my team, Becca beating the rest to get to me.
“Nice job, Greer! You did it! Your first time out!”
Despite my breathless panting, I grinned and threw my arms around her, before feeling like I was overreacting and letting go. Only then did I notice Cameron sitting by himself on the opposite side of our bleachers. He was standing and clapping and yelling my name.
I waved back quickly before turning back to Becca. “Wow. I’m exhausted,” I said heading back to my seat to watch the rest of the meet.
We skipped the 200-yard individual medley, which was supposed to be next, since the coaches for both teams decided it was too early in the season for anyone to be ready to compete. But Kaitlin went after me and beat out some girl by four seconds on the 50-yard freestyle. Michelle won, too, for the 100-yard butterfly.
Unfortunately, the last five events - 100-yard freestyle, 500-yard freestyle, 200-yard freestyle relay, 100-yard backstroke and 100-yard breaststroke – weren’t so great. I was the 100-yarder and was beat by three measly seconds. The rest were within five seconds of each other, too.
The lot of us dragged ourselves back into the locker room to shower and change before heading to our coach’s office for a lecture.
“I can’t say I’m happy, but I’m not upset either. For a first meet, you guys did pretty well. This just means we have to work harder for our next one,” Coach said, beginning an hour-long play-by-play on what each of us did wrong.
***
My emails had definitely clued Nick in, but I had to get it out once and for all, especially before I saw him in seven days. I paced my room, cell phone in hand, Nick’s number highlighted. All I had to do was press ‘SEND.’
I had already put it off for a few weeks. Sure, he knew I was hanging out with Rebecca. He also knew I enjoyed her company, thought she was attractive and that I suspected she might like-like me. He wasn’t stupid. He could put two and two together. But this was more for me than for him.
‘SEND.’
“Yo, dude, how goes it?” a familiar voice greeted me on the other end of the line.
“Hey N-dawg. I’m good, how are you?” Always have to get the pleasantries out of the way.
“Not bad, not bad. Just got back from practice. They’re drilling us hard and pre-season hasn’t even begun. I’m starting to get a little nervous about this whole prep school-athletic thing. What if I don’t survive?”
“Oh puh-lease. You know you’re a rock star on the ice. Don’t even.”
“So, what’s up Greer? To what do I owe this call?”
“Well -”
“I knew it! What’s the big news? You got your first test back and you bombed it and you want to know what to tell Karen?”
“Nope. What do you take me for? Plus, you really think my mom would even so much as glance at one of my tests? All that matters is the report card with her.”
“Okay then. Is it… ohhhh.”
“What?”
“After that last email of yours, I’m thinking this is a loooove problem, right?”
I could picture Nick’s eyebrows waving in front of me, that classic look of ‘I know more than you think I know’ plastered to his face.
“I wouldn’t call it a problem,” I replied. “Just, well, more like something I just – something you need to know.”
“Let me guess. Hmm…” He paused long enough for me to wonder if the connection had been lost.
“Nick?”
“Yeah, okay. It’s gotta be Rebecca,” he said, completely nonchalant, like he was guessing the name of my gym teacher or something.
A large lump instantly formed in my throat, my eyes glazed over and I thought, Nicky, you have no idea how much I love you.
What I said was, “No you didn’t.”
“I’m right, aren’t I? She’s totally into you and it freaks you out but you’re too nice to tell her off, right?”
Shit. Maybe he doesn’t know me so well after all.
“That’s crazy,” I heard myself say.
“Crazy because it’s true, yeah?” he asked, so sure of himself.
“Yes, of course it’s true.” I cringed on my side of the phone.
Instead of breathing easier, like I usually did when I confided in Nick, I felt sick.
“I mean, come on Greer, you can’t get too worked up about it. A lot of people are gay. I mean, maybe not where we’re from, but it’s not too strange. Look at Ellen Degeneres, that guy from ‘Lord of the Rings,’ or even Sophia Bush – you know, Brooke from ‘One Tree Hill’?”
“Sophia Bush isn’t gay!”
“Yeah, well, she kissed that Brittany Snow chick once. I have my suspicions.”
“You’re ridiculous!” I laughed, in spite of myself.
“My point is you’ve got nothing to worry about, bud. Trust me. Just tell her you’re straight and she’ll back off. I mean, aren’t you dating that guy Cameron anyway?”
“Right. Yeah. I guess I am.”
“So, does she know?”
“Uh, I dunno.” I didn’t want to be having this conversation anymore. “Anyway, I guess I’ll just talk to you more about this when I see you in a week!” I feigned enthusiasm.
“You know it, kiddo,” Nick replied. “Can’t wait.”
***
I heard Dad pull into the driveway and forced my eyes open. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand I saw it was 4:06 a.m. I was in that in-between sleep limbo where I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not.
The walls in our house were thin, our rooms not far from one another, so I listened to hear my parents’ bedroom door close.
“Kar-bear?” my dad asked in his fake-whisper that was more akin to a shout.
“Shh, the kids are asleep,” my mom answered. They were in the hall. “What are you doing coming home now, Roger?”
“I’m not exactly working a nine-to-five, Kar.”
“Like I haven’t noticed.”
I could picture my mother’s scowl, the same one Emily used on me when I wouldn’t lend her whatever piece of clothing she wanted on any given day.
Their door closed and though they were still talking, it was too muffled for me to hear. I had heard the argument so many times before that I could put it together on my own:
“You need a real job, Roger. A job in the same state as your family,” Mom would say.
“Karen, this is important to me. I’m helping people, like you. How can you tell me not to?” Dad would retort.
“Nursing is just a little different from illegal people-running, don’t you think?”
“Different, maybe, but just as important.”
“Ha!” Mom would scoff.
“Baby, come on. Let’s just go to sleep - ”
“That’s all you ever want when you’re home, Roger! GOD! I want to settle this.”
“What do you want me to say, Kar? That I’ll quit? I’ll try to get a job at the high school or middle school again? That counseling kids is just as important? It’s old, honey. All these arguments are just plain old.”
“Don’t you see what this is doing to our children?” Mom would reply, always unaware of her hypocrisy.
“The kids understand even if you don’t, honey. They may not like my schedule, but they get what I’m doing. Greer looks up to me for it.”
This was true, although it was a toss-up for me as to which was more important: my dad taking care of others, just trying to make a better life for themselves, or my dad taking care of me.
At this point, my mom would usually be the one to falter, which always surprised me.
“I
know, Roger, but -”
“Kar-bear. I promise, I won’t do this forever. For the near future though, I’ve gotta do what I’m doing, okay? Trust me.”
They would fall silent for a while before the distinct sound of their mattress squeaking would force my head under my pillow.
***
I actually jumped out of bed when my alarm went off instead of hitting the snooze button a few times. My dad never slept more than four hours a night (he said he was more productive that way), and even though he had gotten home late the night before, I knew he’d be waiting for Em and me.
“Daddy!” I ran into his arms. He was sitting at the kitchen table reading the New York Times. There was a plate piled high with his famous Belgian waffles in the middle of the table, strawberries and whipped cream on either side. Em and my place settings were all laid out.
“G-bee! How are you, darling? I’ve missed you.” He kissed me twice on each cheek and once on my forehead.
“Not as much as I missed you,” I assured him before hopping off his lap and into my seat. The waffles were beckoning.
“Daddy!” I heard echoing behind me. Emily copied each of my movements, nearly bowling our dad over in her haste for a hug.
“Ah, my Emsicle! And how are you doing, baby?”
“Better now!” She held onto him so long he had to unclasp her hands from around his neck.
“More time for cuddling later, baby cakes, I promise. Eat your breakfast before it gets cold.”
Em reluctantly let go and sat next to me. She was soon as distracted by the food as I was.
“So, Dad, how goes the job?” I asked, my voice garbled by berries and cream.
“Oh, it goes. Had a couple of close calls, but nothing your old man can’t handle,” he assured, winking at Emily. “How’s the team, G-bee? How’s the freestyle coming?”
“It’s pretty good. The coach is kind of a tightwad, but my team is clutch. We have some really talented girls. I don’t know how much time I’ll get at the meets this season though.” My dad officially knew much more than my mom did after only five minutes of conversation.
“You’ll be fine. You’ve always been an athlete, don’t forget it. I can’t wait to see you in action,” he grinned, leaning over to muss my hair.
“Dad! I have to go to school, you know.”
“And tell me when the last time was you gave a hoot about your hair? You’re a natural beauty, kid, both of you are. You could have an Afro and still be a knock-out.”
I looked at the clock and realized we were already seven minutes behind schedule.
“Sorry, Dad, we need to get going.” I motioned to Emily to get her bag.
“No worries, I gotcha. I’ll drive you today.”
“Yay!” Em exclaimed. “I call shotgun!”
“Ha! Where’d you hear that from, Ems? Do you even know what it means?”
“Greer said it when Mom took us shopping for school, plus when Becca picks her up. It means you get to sit in the front seat and pick the music, right Greer?”
I rolled my eyes as I walked out to Dad’s truck, getting in the cramped back seat. “You can have the front, but definitely not music privileges.”
“That’s right, driver’s pick. And today it’s disc two of The White Album. Now, who’s this Becca person?” he asked as we pulled out of the driveway.
“Just a friend from the swim team, Dad,” I answered, looking out the window and singing along to Honey Pie.
***
It just so happened that Nick’s hockey team was going to Colorado for a weekend-long training camp. Being a state away, I convinced my mom to get me a plane ticket so I could visit him. I waited at the Denver International Airport for Nick to arrive.
His plane was late, so I sat on a bench and waited. This being the case, I was surprised when he came up behind me and put me in an instant chokehold.
“AH! NICKY!” I launched myself over my seat and hugged him.
“Hey, Greer! How’s it going, buddy?”
I stepped away and examined him. His hair was buzzed short for the hockey season. His acne problem was still raging on his forehead, a constant source of frustration for him, I happened to know. He had gotten a little taller, now with a good six inches on me. He wore the Beatles T I had bought him for his birthday the summer before.
“Damn, you’re a freaking beanpole, Nick.”
“Well you’re a shorty, Shorty. Nice shirt,” he commented, pointing at my own John Lennon IMAGINE tee.
“Great minds, right? Where should we go?” I was bouncing up and down on my heels, eager to sit down and hash out my life and get my best friend’s advice in person for once. Despite quick phone calls here and there, Nick had been so caught up in his new life that we really hadn’t had a chance to talk since he left.
“Hmm, I went to this awesome seafood place the last time I came here with my parents. Sound good?” he suggested. My eyes widened hungrily and I nodded my approval. Nick led the way.
We ended up at The Red Fish Grill, not too fancy or expensive. Nick got a root beer and I had water with lemon to start.
“So, what’s new with you, bro? I feel like you know more about my life these days than I know about yours,” I began.
Nick spit his gum into his napkin and took a sip of his drink before answering. “Honestly, my life’s pretty boring. I practice every single day, on the ice in the morning before class, and on the lacrosse fields in the afternoon. The kids I’m skating with are seriously all looking to play in the NHL. They’re insane.” He emphasized their craziness with a roll of his eyes.
“And you’re not? What happened to playing for the, oh what team are you rooting for now? The Devils? The Rangers?”
“Gee, thanks Greer. You can’t even remember that I love the Islanders? What’s with that?”
“Aw, shove it. I knew what it was. I’m just joshin’. But what else? So, hockey takes up your life. How are your classes? Who do you hang with? And what about your love life?” I winked.
“Damn, have you been writing these down for the past two months or something? School is school. I’m bored with math because I should be in a higher section. My teacher said they won’t bump me up until half-way through the year for some reason or another.”
“Well, at least you’re good at something. I am just about average in everything. Except maybe History,” I told him, sucking on the remnants of my lemon.
“Nerd!”
“Whatever, Mr. Mathematical Mind. And what about friends? Do you even have time?”
“Yeah, yeah. Just the guys on the team though because we’re together all the time. I couldn’t really hang out with anyone else even if I wanted to. Except…” he trailed off and the left side of his mouth rose just a bit. It was a girl. I knew it.
“What’s her naaaame?” I teased.
“Oy vey, calm down! It’s not like anything’s happened yet. But, she’s in my English class. She sits in front of me and sometimes when she passes papers back, I swear she winks, or holds onto the page just a little too long.” If he didn’t have such dark skin, I knew a rosy hue would have been getting stronger on his cheeks by the second.
“Ooh la la! True love if I’ve ever heard it!”
“Okay, Ms. Smarty Pants, why don’t you regale me with your sordid affairs.” he said, waggling his brows. “I mean, give me more juice than you’ve told me via cell and email.”
“Word, brotha. Basically, I’m a mess.”
“What else is new?”
“I’m serious, Nicky. This isn’t, ‘Oh that girl looked at me like I’m scum and my middle school career is ruined.’ This is for real. I guess I’m dating Cameron?” I lifted my voice up at the end unintentionally, or so I thought.
“You guess? Ha!” Nick interrupted. “G, man, you’re either dating someone or you’re not. What’s this guessing crap?”
“Okay, so we’re dating. But -” I stopped short, the waiter coming over to take our orders.
“Fish and ch
ips, please,” we both ordered at the same time.
“Ha, lame. Anyway, continue,” Nick offered once our waiter was out of hearing range.
“But, Rebecca,” I said, stopping and letting her name float there for a moment.
“That gay chick?” he asked, making my breath catch. “Is she still all over you?”
You can do this, Greer, I thought.
“Kind of, but I think I like her, too,” I said definitively, waiting for Nick to react.
He put his glass down and stared at me hard.
“What are you telling me, Greer?”
“I don’t know, Nicky. This is weird, I know. I don’t know what this is, but there’s something about her…” I trailed off, letting my best friend fill in the rest from his own experience.
“Okay, let me tell you what I think. And this is solely from what you’ve told me, okay?” Nick said. I nodded for him to continue. “This guy, Cameron, just kind of fell into your lap – no pun intended,” he added when I shot him a scowl. “You’ve basically gone with it, right, but, like, without much decision of your own?”
“Well, yeah, but you’re making it sound like I’m just dating him because he asked me out. I like spending time with him. We have some kind of chemistry, I think.” This was what Nick was good for, among other things – making me rethink my reasons for acting the way I did at times.
“Okay. So, maybe you’re just scared of getting close to a guy for, like, the first time ever, and Rebecca is just plain safe.”
The hairs on my arms stood on end when he said her name. I fidgeted, looked out the window.
“She’s amazing.” I redirected my gaze back at Nick. “Sometimes, when I’m with Cameron, I think about being with her.” I could feel my cheeks revealing my true feelings.
Nick was silent, looking at the plate the waitress was in the process of putting in front of him. We waited until she left to continue.
“Listen, I know this is new,” I started to explain. “Shit, this is scary and strange, and I can only imagine what you’re thinking right now.”
“Stop. Greer, you’re not a lesbian,” he said it with his teeth clenched, willing himself and me to believe it. “This girl is just messing with your head. I mean, come on! Don’t you remember when we were kids?”