by F N Manning
“No,” he snapped instantly. The knee-jerk denial made me smile and prompted him to reconsider. “I don’t know. Maybe.” He melted back into the wall behind him, looking tired. “You don’t want your world to know your secret any more than I want mine to.”
Perhaps the things we were hiding only had significance because we were afraid to reveal those secrets to the people in our lives. The fear of what those hidden parts of ourselves could do is what gave them power. The charged, antagonistic atmosphere faded as I nodded in understanding.
It didn’t feel like we were at cross purposes for a second, just like we were commiserating. We both had these all-important personas, and there were secrets we were afraid to share underneath them. We weren’t friends anymore, but we were the only ones who knew each other’s skeletons, so we didn’t have to pretend around each other. Was that too presumptuous? While we were different on the surface, maybe the problem was we were still too alike because we were never really at cross purposes: we both liked each other and didn’t want to.
The calm atmosphere between us eventually gave me enough courage to ask a question. “Did you come to the party on Friday just to see me?” It looked like he had a denial ready but he bit it back, sighing and nodding tightly at me. “Why did you leave so suddenly then?”
My heart threatened to jump right out of my chest while he stared at me intently, warm brown eyes boring into mine, the heat of his gaze like a physical touch. I didn’t know if he found what he was looking for. He didn’t answer. “Why did you call my guidance counsellor at the request of my sister?” he asked instead. “Was that just to mess with me?”
Of course not I wanted to defend. We’d agreed to a clean slate and I was a man of my word. Well, an almost man. Teen of my word. Then I realized he was giving me an out, an explanation. I didn’t know if I wanted to take it.
We were having a moment where we didn’t grate on each other and where lust wasn’t clouding our judgement enough to make rationale thought impossible. It felt like an honest moment too. I didn’t want to ruin it but didn’t know what to say. April had barely needed to convince me before I was on board. Sure, it was underhanded, but our hearts had been in the right place. Well, April’s had been. I hadn’t wanted to give much thought to mine. I wanted to help and tried not to look too closely at why.
As the silence stretched, it became clear I wouldn’t have enough time to figure it out now. “Well,” I ventured, “saying you wanted to be a geologist was just to mess with you.”
Max stared at me incredulously for a moment until he started laughing. I joined in. When the hilarity faded, he went with me to my car to grab his jacket. Had I forgotten it accidentally or was I trying to get him back to my car to be alone with me in case things went incredibly well? Oh well, it wasn’t the time for that, but things hadn’t gone bad.
I smiled and waved a hand as he smiled back and jogged off towards his school. Things hadn’t gone bad at all.
***
Max
As much as I’d wanted to make out with Cal in some secluded spot at the party on Friday, I couldn’t. I told myself I was teasing him, winding him up, but I just needed to regroup. I figured I was already Cal’s rebound that night at the warehouse. We shouldn’t get up close and personal after having some standoff about his ex. With our history, things were complicated enough. I didn’t want anything we did to be more about Katie than us.
Then he showed up at my school and paraded himself in front of my friends and had the nerve to be kind of cute while nearly giving everything away. I had no idea why he helped my sister, other than she could be damn convincing. Surely it wasn’t because he cared. And I didn’t care. That could be true because when it came to Cal I had absolutely no clue how I felt – the twin needs to pull him closer and push him away always seemed to be warring, no one desire winning out for long.
“I can’t be positive, but I don’t think this is our classroom.”
I went for the closest door and ducked in the room. It was a biology classroom and we had English, so that was a safe assessment on Joey’s part.
“I might need to make out with you,” I said. I wasn’t sure if the guidance counsellor saw me or not. That worked in movies, didn’t it? If she walked in on me kissing Joey, maybe she’d be flustered or send us to the principal for PDA. Either way, I wouldn’t have to talk to her about college. I got an email that she wanted to see me to discuss what I thought after reviewing the material she gave me over the weekend. The implied message was that if I hadn’t looked at the material over the weekend, she would fix that now.
Yes, I promised April I’d apply. I was going to. There were just so many damn schools that all cost a ton of dough and looking at all their requirements and deadlines made my mind boggle. I thought I’d be able to put it off for a little longer at least. I wanted to get on my motorcycle and drive far away and think about college later. Eventually. I’d apply, just later.
Joey looked at my lips and tilted his head, considering, before shaking it slightly. “No thanks. Did you break up with that guy?” Joey thought about something before nodding his head decisively. “Was he being too clingy? I saw this on Dr. Phil. Tell him needing your own space is actually healthy for your relationship.”
“It’s just if I need to create a diversion,” I told him, watching the door. “And I’m not dating him.” His words caught up to me. “Why do you watch Dr. Phil?”
“It’s really profound when you’re stoned,” he defended himself. Joey narrowed his eyes. “Except I’m not stoned enough right now for you to be able to deflect.”
“Deflect? Is someone taking the SAT?”
“Of course I am. What if I’m some kind of ‘beautiful mind’ genius? The world needs to know.” He paused. “Hey! Don’t distract me. Who are you avoiding? Is it Leo Morales on the soccer team? Man, I knew it, but Ed said soccer players are just weird.”
“What? No.” Well. “I mean, yeah, I hooked up with him last year but I’m not avoiding him.”
“Is it that guy who played Captain von Trapp in the Sound of Music last year? I called that too.”
I eyed him skeptically. “Pretty sure everyone called that one.” Oops. I normally did a better job of not outing anyone I messed around with. This college thing freaked me out. Maybe I needed to be the tough guy I pretended to be and face it.
A shadow moved over the door, and I grabbed Joey to pull him towards me, but the figure moved on.
“What about—"
“Stop guessing. I’m hiding from the freaking guidance counsellor,” I admitted. “She’s on my ass about applying to college.”
Joey nodded. “And that’s not the fun way to be on your ass.”
“Oh my god.” I shoved him.
“You know we don’t care, right?” Joey asked, moving over to the chalkboard to draw a dick.
I nodded absently while I went to peak out the door. “Yes, I’m here, I’m queer, you’re used to it. I know.” The coast looked clear.
Joey rolled his eyes. “No, about you being a giant closet brainiac.”
I swallowed hard. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, man.” Cal hung around me a few times and now they thought I was like him? Shit. This was bad, right? This was what I was afraid of, but it was hard to get a read on Joey as he just kept drawing on the board, biting his lip in concentration.
He changed tracks slightly. “It makes sense, you seeing that preppy kid.” Joey nodded sagely while drawing veins on the cartoon member he sketched. “Maybe you found someone you could have intellectual conversations with.”
“We get along better when we aren’t talking,” I muttered.
“Nice.” He held his hand up and curled his fingers and I bumped his fist obligingly. I didn’t know what else to say. I wanted to protest but if he was aware enough to toss around words like deflect, and since he apparently watched Dr. Phil, he’d see right through any defense I mustered.
Joey looked away from his drawing to consider
me seriously. “You can be nerdy around the guys and me.” He thought about that. “I mean, don’t wear polo shirts and ties or anything, but otherwise, we aren’t going to shun you.”
“Do I look nerdy to you?” I scoffed.
“I’m sorry, do you prefer the term geek?” he quipped.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
This conversation made me uncomfortable but maybe not for the reasons Joey thought. Yes, I was worried about this before, but a different unease was starting to surface. I wasn’t some Superman under a Clark Kent façade. I didn’t diligently commit to my studies and solve complex math equations in my spare time when the guys weren’t around. I thought I was different now, that I put being an academic or whatever behind me. To think I’d been letting tells slip through without even realizing it made me nervous. I was supposed to be different.
Joey considered me. “Okay, let’s see.” He thought for a few moments before nodding and taking a deep breath. Oh god. “You figure out shit with cars really fast,” he started, “as fast as the guys who’ve been working in auto shops all their lives.”
“You’re just an extremely slow learner. It doesn’t mean I’m—”
He waved off my insult and kept going. “Your mom works a lot but still wouldn’t let you get bad grades since she’s a scary ball buster; it’s really hot.” He didn’t give me time to slap him for calling my mom hot or to respond before going on to his next point. “Teachers actually call on you in class, so they haven’t given up on you like the rest of us slackers.”
“That doesn’t prove anything.” They didn’t call on me that much anyway. But that might have been because I tried to turn any answer into a sexual innuendo so that they would stop calling on me. Easy to do in English and Chemistry, difficult with Math.
Joey smiled. “You speak different languages sometimes when you get totally trashed like Greek and one that I’m pretty sure is Klingon.”
“Lots of people are multilingual,” I defended, not touching the Klingon remark. Though I thought I’d completely forgotten that one. I couldn’t speak it anymore when sober. Huh.
“Is your family even Greek?” he asked.
“Okay, whatever.” I resisted the urge to cross my arms.
I stared at him evenly while he thought. He grinned and pointed a finger at me triumphantly. “Your biggest celebrity crush is that space guy!”
“Neil deGrasse Tyson,” I filled in automatically. Joey’s grinned widened. Well, shit. “I guess I don’t have an explanation for that one,” I admitted. Smart is sexy, and he was hilarious.
“It’s fine man. We’ve been expecting you to start talking about colleges and student aid and whatever for weeks.”
“I don’t even want to go to college,” I protested.
Joey laughed until he saw I was serious. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Joey, don’t start.” Not him too. Why did everyone want me to go to college but me? Instead of making me think I was the only sane one, I wondered if maybe I was the one who had it wrong.
“You know my parents want me to go to college?” Joey asked, chuckling at the thought. “I don’t think I even own all the textbooks for my classes. But I’m at least looking into community colleges. You should go.”
“I’d have to get in first,” I started, then stopped.
“You’ll get in,” he insisted.
I shook my head. “You don’t know that.”
He studied me. “Maybe being rejected is scary, but dude, you won’t get rejected.”
I didn’t touch that comment. “You don’t know that,” I said again.
He nodded seriously. “I do.”
I couldn’t handle his earnest tone. “Well, whatever, my ‘nerdy’ days are supposed to be in the past and just because you’re being cool about this—”
“Dude, anything that happened before high school totally doesn’t count,” he told me sagely. “You never told anyone I cried in 8th grade when Laurie Switzer kicked me in the balls.” I smiled at the memory. That was the year we met. “Nobody was cool before high school, so nobody has room to judge. Ed was a literal choir boy.” His eyes widened. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you that.”
Huh, good to know. I couldn’t handle Joey being earnest and supportive anymore. I looked around the empty classroom. We’d already missed the beginning of class, so there was no point going now. “Wanna see if they keep any of the fun chemicals in here?”
Joey scoffed. “Do you even have to ask?” We began snooping around.
I told myself my friends wouldn’t accept my past. This new attitude I had meant throwing away the old me and that’s what I wanted at the time. I didn’t want to be that stupid trusting kid that got hurt. But they didn’t have a problem with it.
Maybe people were better than I gave them credit for. It seemed risky applying that logic to Cal. Hadn’t I seen him being an asshole? But hadn’t he said he wanted to be better? Maybe I should give him a chance. I wanted him, and if he wanted me, maybe it didn’t need to be more complicated than that. Maybe life worked out sometimes.
We parted on bad terms. It was complicated. I shouldn’t want him. But I did. Maybe this would go better if I stopped denying it. We’d reached a truce, so maybe it was time to just give in to what I felt.
***
Cal
Today was April’s grade bee. I doubted it would be much of a production but we were going anyway. Professor Vincent said Brendan should go as April was his main competition. Or he would have said that, if it was true and they competed in the same region. He’d actually suggested we go watch Eric Wu’s bee because he was Brendan’s main competition. However, Eric Wu didn’t have an attractive brother.
“Do you think Max will be here?” Brendan asked when we parked and made our way inside. He tried to act casual as his eyes scanned the cafeteria we found ourselves in for the bee.
“He’s not that cool.” It was impossible to wipe the smile off Brendan’s face when he won his own grade bee, and he even let me hug him in public. Getting praise from Max seemed to be the part that pleased him most. Well, it wasn’t even praise. When Brendan shared the news at a bee club meeting, April congratulated him. Max nodded and acknowledged his existence. Cal treated that as better than a trophy. I wasn’t even my own brother’s hero. Maybe I could co-opt April.
“What? I didn’t say he was,” he protested. He was in that stage where admitting he liked things was lame, though fortunately the bee was an exception.
“He was one of those kids who wrote on the back of their boards,” I divulged. Those kids seemed to be the most antisocial as they barely made eye contact and firmly pressed their nails into their name placards to write out the words.
“No way.” He scoffed, then laughed. “Well, see, he the biggest dork back then. Now he has a motorcycle.” If there was hope for Max, that suggested there was hope for Brendan and that he didn’t have to become a hopeless nerd.
“There’s no way mom and dad would ever let you have a motorcycle,” I said.
“I could get a job.”
“You need to focus on your studies.” I tried not to wince at how much I sounded like my parents.
Brendan rolled his eyes. “Come on, I’m not you.”
“You don’t have to be me.” He didn’t look convinced. I tried something else. “Look, if you really want a job in a few years, I’ll help you convince them.”
“Really?” He went from playing it cool to hopelessly eager in a second. I tried not to grin.
“Really. But there’s no rule that says you can’t be smart.” I patted him on the back. “Look at what you’re doing,” I told him gently.
He looked down.
“I’m serious. You can play sports and win spelling bees or join the mathletes and ride a motorcycle.” He laughed. “Anything is possible. Who cares what others think?” I made my voice as imposing and snooty as possible. “You’re a Winthrop-Scott. Winthrop-Scotts don’t care what other people think.�
� It wasn’t strictly true, but I was pretty sure mom and dad said it a few times anyway. “We squash any nay-sayers like bugs under our polished shoes.”
He shook his head but smiled. “Winthrop-Scott’s would never get our shoes dirty,” he said, mock scandalized. “We’d have our butlers do it instead.”
I savored our companionable mood for a moment until it ended when we spotted April near the front of the room with a group of girls. She waved Brendan over and I smiled when her friends watched Brendan with internet. I thought I noticed a blush on his face before I saw Max and he took up my whole focus.
We really had made progress as he didn’t look contemptible at our presence, maybe a little guarded, but it was better than outright hostility. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We’re here to cheer her on,” I explained. April and Brendan were fast friends. Was it history repeating? I watched as April happily introduced Brendan to her friends. Max and I had both been shy, runty kids who were more at home with spellers than anyone else but still awkward and weird even around our own kind. April and Brendan were the friendly, bold kids that the cameras loved at the bees. The smart ones who also had some semblance of personality and charisma. Of course they’d find each other like Max and I did.
“You’re scoping out the competition,” he accused, but with the hint of a smile on his lips.
“Well, that’s because we’re smart,” I said loftily.
He rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“What else would you call a Mathematics Olympiad and National Merit Finalist?” I countered.
“An uptight virgin loser?” he guessed lightly.
I opened my mouth to retort with something along the lines of how only one of those terms applied. It would be up to him to figure out which. Yes, that would likely lead us toward flirting, if that wasn’t what we were already doing, but I found myself looking forward to it. Someone else interrupted us before I could speak.
“Hey, be nice.” The speaker was a woman with brown hair cropped short. It had been long the last time I saw her but Theresa Keller looked mostly the same otherwise. Maybe she had a few more lines on her face, not that I’d mention that, but she still sported that same look of fond exasperation when it came to her son. Though back then it was because she was trying to get him to speak clearly into the mic instead of mumbling.