by Jay Bell
David laughed, his expression a strange combination of embarrassment and pride. “I didn’t have a clue about you until afterwards.”
“The kiss wasn’t convincing enough?”
“Not as much as you not punching me.”
Connor smiled. “I almost tackled you, but for different reasons.” They both paused and considered what this might have led to. “I figured it out when I was twelve,” Connor continued. “There was a kid in our neighborhood who stole a porn magazine from his parents. He offered to loan it to anyone for five bucks, so I paid him and was completely disappointed. It was just a Playboy-type magazine, so no guys were involved, just women, and they did nothing for me. There were some ads in the back though, and some had tiny pictures of guys. I stayed up all night squinting at those rather than looking at the centerfold.”
David grinned. “Are you out?”
“Yeah. I’ve got nothing to hide. My mom figured it out even earlier than I did, but for the wrong reasons. She came home when I was eight and found me dressed up in my older sister’s clothes. Since then she just assumed I was gay and didn’t blink an eye when I told her. Cross-dressing has nothing to do with it. I’m not a drag queen or anything. I just thought it would be funny. I looked damn good, though.”
Now David laughed, and Connor focused on those pillowy lips and the teeth they framed. He wanted to be close to him. Pumping the swing a few times to gain height, Connor jumped, feet thudding in the sand. Then he walked around the jungle gym to one of the benches, glancing back to make sure David was following. He was, just like a puppy.
As soon as they were both seated, Connor groaned and rolled to the side, pulling up his legs on the bench and resting his head in David’s lap. “Long day,” he murmured.
David touched Connor’s hair, tentatively at first, before moving the tips of his fingers back and forth along the buzzed hair. It had been much longer just two weeks ago, before Connor asked his mom to trim it with the electric clippers. David stroking the short hairs sent tingles of pleasure along his scalp.
“Does that feel good?”
“Yeah.” Connor closed his eyes. “Tell me about when you came out.”
“I never really had to,” David said. “Enough people called me gay that everyone just assumed it was true. I didn’t know they were right until a couple of years ago. My dad had this field trip sort of thing planned for his students. He teaches urban planning and wanted to show them different parts of Kansas City that related to the lessons. Naturally he dragged me along. The people walking around downtown were way more interesting than my dad’s lesson, so I started checking them out. I was staring at this guy on a street corner who kept checking his watch as if he were waiting for someone.
“The class had already moved down the sidewalk, but I pretended to tie my shoe, just because I wanted to see who he was waiting for, or if they wouldn’t come. Then this other guy comes up behind him and does the whole covering your eyes and ‘guess who’ thing. It was so cheesy, but then the waiting guy turned around and kissed him.”
Connor rolled over onto his back and opened his eyes to watch David tell the rest. David’s fingers were still moving, even though he probably wasn’t aware of them, and they felt good as they brushed along the skin of his neck.
“When I saw them kiss it was like my heart stopped. The whole world, which had always been confusing and weird to me, suddenly made sense. I knew then what love looked like and where I fit in. I hadn’t felt anything like that before or since. Until last night.”
David looked down, noticing Connor and giving his fingers direction, moving them over Connor’s eyebrows, down the bridge of his nose, and across his lips to his chin. Then he traced the line of his jaw. Connor became self-conscious of the stubble there, the sound like sandpaper.
“How old are you?” David asked.
“Thirty-seven,” Connor said with a straight face.
“No, really.”
“I’m nineteen, but I started shaving when I was fourteen.” Connor considered David’s baby-smooth face. “How old are you?”
“Sixteen.”
Connor grinned. “Sweet sixteen. I had no idea I was robbing the cradle.”
David looked offended. “I turn seventeen later this year.”
“Yeah, well, until then you’re sweet sixteen.”
Connor rolled onto his side again. The warmth from David’s lap, his gentle touches, and the long day behind him made sleep almost irresistible. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself by drooling all over David’s crotch, at least not like this, so he forced himself to sit up.
“I have to drive home while I can still keep my eyes open.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Seeing you was the only good thing about today.”
Oh, what the hell. Connor could manage a little longer. He leaned over and kissed David—kept kissing him until he felt on the verge of doing too much, even if they were in a public place. A passing car made them both stop. They laughed nervously, stood, and walked back to David’s home.
“I guess this is it until Monday,” Connor said.
“Yeah. If tomorrow wasn’t Gordon’s birthday—”
“I know. Have fun together anyway.” They were at the window now. If David asked him to stay, Connor would. Even though his mind said to take it slow, his hormones and heart had his brain outnumbered.
“Goodbye,” David said, kissing him once more before climbing through the window.
Connor sighed. Karma. It had to be karma for leaving David hanging last night, but when next the opportunity arose, Connor wouldn’t say no.
Chapter Seven
If David were cruel enough, he could record Gordon eating, upload it to the Internet, and the video would go viral in seconds. Like everything in his life, Gordon ate without a shred of self-awareness. He ripped into his mall pizza with reckless abandon, sometimes taking two or three bites before he started chewing. Sauce smeared his left cheek. The great thing about Gordon was that he never minded if you stared.
The food court felt like a step up in maturity after last year, when Gordon insisted they go to Chuck E. Cheese for his birthday. David had protested just enough to prove how grown up he was before happily giving in. Who didn’t love arcade games and creepy singing robots? But maybe Gordon was feeling the looming pressure of adulthood, now that he was sixteen.
Not that their activities today had been especially mature. They had bounced back and forth between the mall’s two video game stores, pricing titles and considering their options. Then they hit the bookstores so Gordon could find the brand of strategy guides he liked that neither of the game stores carried. David had bought two of those for him as a present. Now they were just finishing eating and about to leave for the used book store.
David considered texting their destination to Connor so they could “accidentally” meet. Maybe they could sneak a desperate kiss or two in an empty aisle before parting again. As he finished his pizza, David wondered how Gordon would react if they were caught. Would he stop and stare at them kissing, fall over dead, or simply ask what they were doing? Love and sex were two topics they never broached. David tended to keep quiet since he didn’t want the gay thing to make Gordon uncomfortable. That, and until recently, he had nothing to report. Gordon wasn’t exactly forthcoming with any details either.
“Have you ever been in love?”
In a rare display of manners, Gordon chewed and swallowed before answering. “Mrs. Fridley.”
David stared. “The woman who lives at the end of the block?”
Gordon nodded. “Yeah, the one who has me feed her cats when she visits her family in Poland.”
“But she’s like a hundred and two!”
“She’s forty-six,” Gordon said, before noisily sucking up the last drops of soda. “And she’s a good kisser.”
David’s world fell apart, breaking into a million tiny pieces, before being put back together by a rusty staple gun and rolls of yellowing
adhesive tape. He tried to picture Mrs. Fridley, the woman with the weird accent and a penchant for cat sweaters, locking lips with Gordon. “So, are you guys an item?”
“Not right now. She was into me, but said that I was too young. I looked up the age of consent, and in Kansas it’s sixteen years old unless your parents object.”
“Are you going to tell them?”
Gordon pushed his glasses back up his nose. “Do you think I should?”
“No! Definitely not.” David gave a mad chuckle. “Definitely keep this one to yourself. So now that you’re sixteen—”
Gordon adopted his best cool guy expression. “Let’s just say I’m considering my options. I don’t know if I want to get tied down just yet.”
David still felt like he was floating through a bizarre dream as they walked toward the department store closest to the parked car. Gordon and Mrs. Fridley. Love was a crazy beast! Then again, how would the people at school react if they knew about Connor and him? The nerdy loser and the alleged psychopath. They would never believe it.
David’s dreamlike state soon turned into a nightmare. Ahead, on the other side of the hallway near a music store, stood Chuck and a couple of his friends. David tried to stay calm. They hadn’t been seen yet, so they could still duck into a store. As he was about to ask Gordon to do just that, one of Chuck’s friends noticed him, eyebrows raising for a second before he nudged Chuck.
David didn’t hesitate. He grabbed Gordon’s arm, yanking him down one of the side halls that led toward the open parking lot. The car wasn’t anywhere nearby, and being outside would leave them exposed, so David whipped his head back and forth as he dragged Gordon along, searching for a place to hide.
“What are we running from?” Gordon huffed.
A gruff male voice shouted from behind, so David ducked into the nearest store. A women’s store. For large ladies. Not the best place to make a final stand, but the back of the store provided booth-shaped sanctuary—if they weren’t all occupied. David dodged the saleswoman and practically dived into one of the dressing rooms, pulling the slatted door shut behind Gordon.
“Were those guys after you?” Gordon asked, clutching shopping bags to his chest as if thieves wanted his loot. “Who are they?”
“Just some guys desperate to kick my ass. Did they see where we went?”
“I’m not sure.”
They listened for signs of a commotion, but the store was quiet aside from elevator music and murmured comments about fashion. Of course. What could Chuck do, hold the saleswoman hostage unless they came out?
“Does this happen a lot?” Gordon whispered.
David thought about how many close calls there had been lately. “Pretty much every day, yeah.”
Gordon’s eyes grew wide. “I’m so glad I don’t have to go to school.”
They listened for a moment longer, then David nodded toward a clothes hook where a giant leopard-spotted bra hung. They burst out laughing until someone knocked on the door.
“Yeah?” David said, heart in his throat.
“Do you need any help in there?”
The voice was female, no doubt one of the sales clerks.
“No,” David said. “Just trying on a few things.”
They held their breath until she moved away before snorting and sniggering. They felt much more somber when they decided to leave, embarrassed when a number of women watched them go. Luckily they saw no sign of Chuck and his friends.
“Move with the stealth of a ninja!” Gordon whispered as they made their way down the mall hallways again.
David had no idea how that was done, but kept his eyes peeled for any sign of trouble. Maybe the patron saint of birthdays was watching out for them, because they escaped the mall and reached the car with no trouble.
The used bookstore felt like a safe place, since David couldn’t imagine Chuck being there in a million years. Gordon could spend hours shopping for books, so after David was finished browsing, he sat in one of the reading chairs and pulled out his phone.
I miss you.
He typed the text message but didn’t hit send, even though it was the truth. He missed Connor, even if he barely knew him. When he thought back, he realized they had known each other less than a week, and yet David felt like he couldn’t live without him ever again. The thought was unreasonable and unsound, but he didn’t care. He hit the send button and sat waiting, feeling both stupid and relieved. Then the answer came.
Don’t cry Sweet 16. 2morrow is ours.
And a few seconds later, another one.
I miss you too.
* * * * *
David dug through his closet the next morning, trying to find the right outfit. He never worried much about his appearance and usually dressed for comfort. Now, with Connor in the picture, he wanted to try harder. He put on a dress shirt he had worn to a family reunion last fall, but once he checked himself in the mirror, he decided he looked ridiculous. He undid the first few buttons and pulled it off over his head, opting instead for a T-shirt and his favorite brown hoody.
Just when he was putting on his jeans, his phone buzzed, David hopping toward it as he pulled them up.
Play sick.
He reread the message a few times, as if the two simple words held greater meaning. Then again, Connor could have texted invest in rice and David probably would have done so without question. School was by far his least favorite place on Earth, so of course David had played sick before. He always had to call his dad, who left early to beat the northbound commuter traffic. The only problem was that David preferred to fake a few symptoms the day before. Last night he and Gordon had stayed up late playing video games, which made feigning sudden illness more suspect.
David debated between puking and diarrhea. The former was reliable, but the latter less expected. Puking was as generic as faking a fever by holding the thermometer against a light bulb. Then again, maybe it being so expected is what made it unexpected. Or something. David coughed and cleared his throat to make his voice sound more hoarse before calling his dad.
“I threw up,” he said, skipping the formalities. David could hear voices in the background. This could either be good or bad. His dad might be too preoccupied to question him or too busy to call into school. “I think it was food poisoning,” he added.
His father sighed. “Do you still feel nauseous? Maybe you got it out of your system.”
“My stomach hurts,” he said, dodging the question. He wouldn’t ask to stay home. That was too obvious.
“Well, do you need me to come home? I’m very busy.”
“No.” David made a throaty noise as if more was on its way up. “I just need to get back to bed.”
“Very well, I’ll call your school.”
“Thanks. Love you.”
“I love you, too.”
David hung up the phone, feeling genuinely ill for a moment before he remembered he was faking. Then he miraculously cured himself and texted Connor.
Done.
Whens the old man go 2 work?
David grinned as he texted back. Already gone.
On my way.
And then what? David didn’t care about the consequences. He wanted an entire day alone with Connor. But what if his father came home at lunch to check on him? Or Gordon noticed Connor’s car parked outside and decided to visit? Gordon’s presence wouldn’t be very conducive to a romantic mood. Unless you were Mrs. Fridley, apparently. Of course there was one place they could go to be alone, at least for a little while.
David quadruple-checked his appearance in the mirror and began pacing between the living room and the front door. Finally he saw more than an empty street when he peeked outside. He was out the door before Connor could turn off the engine and practically slid across the hood Dukes of Hazard-style to get to the passenger-side door.
“Somebody’s had their cornflakes this morning,” Connor said as David hopped in the car.
David responded by kissing him.
�
��So where to?”
“Shawnee.”
Connor looked puzzled. “Why there?”
David grinned. “That’s where my safe house is. The cops won’t find us there.”
Connor shook his head but said, “You’re the boss.”
Eastern Kansas didn’t have a lot to offer. People often thought of Kansas City before they realized that most of that city was on the Missouri side. But from there began a massive urban sprawl. Interstate 35 wound southwest through cities whose borders had long ago merged, forming one beast with many names. The urban sprawl became suburban before reaching Olathe, the last sentinel against the rural world beyond. Leaving Olathe almost always meant going north, at least if the destination was more than just farmland and small towns.
As they drove past the high school, David imagined the teachers and bullies spilling from the brick building and filling the street to halt their progress. Soon the school was behind them, the wild freedom making David feel high. The sun was out and everyone else was locked away at work or school, all but Connor and him. He watched Connor switch gears as he turned onto the highway, grateful when they reached a steady speed and his hand was free for David to hold.
“Up to 87th Street,” David said. “Then take it toward Shawnee Mission Park.”
The house there belonged to David’s mother and her second husband, but David had never called it home. She had given him a key ages ago—mostly out of guilt, he suspected—but today would be the first time he had used it. The couple both worked days, his mother as a technical writer and Jeff as a pharmacist, meaning their lovely suburban home would be unoccupied.
The neighborhood was soulless, every two-story house some variation of beige and gray. The only saving grace was a state park nestled up against the homes, its thick forests contrasting with the spindly trees on each front lawn.
As they pulled into the driveway, David wished he had X-ray vision and could see if the garage was empty. How would he explain his presence if someone was home?
“Wait, don’t tell me,” Connor said as he killed the engine. “You’re actually a millionaire who’s been slumming it until he could find someone that loves him for more than his money.”