by Chase Connor
Alex: Ur still not here.
I rolled my eyes and shot back a quick response.
Me: Get off my dick. I’m going to talk to my dad and I’ll be over as soon as possible.
Alex: U wish I was on ur dick. Hurry up, homo!
Me: “You” and “you’re”. If you speak English, text in English.
I dropped my phone on top of my bag, not intending to get into a lengthy text conversation with my best friend. I was going to be spending a night or two at his house anyway, so there was no point. Jumper leapt off of the bed and followed me as I exited my room and headed down the stairs. My bedroom was the only room, besides my bathroom, on the second floor. It was almost like having my own apartment. And it was where Jumper and I spent most of our time when dad wasn’t home.
Walking down the steep, narrow stairs, I almost fell at least three times as Jumper wound his way around my legs. By the time I got to the foyer, I was just glad that I was alive. I heard dad banging around in the kitchen, already setting up all of his work supplies on the kitchen table. I gave a sigh of relief. If he was setting things up on the kitchen table, that meant he had a big lesson plan he needed to work on. Or he had lots of papers to grade. He’d be less likely to give me grief about going to Alex’s for the weekend if he was going to be occupied with work.
“The main theme of Beowulf, Alex?” Dad asked with glee as I leaned against the doorframe of the small kitchen at the back of the house.
“Besides the fact that no one can agree on whether it condemns or celebrates burgeoning Christianity, how closely it parallels history, whether or not it truly is an epic, or whether or not it truly celebrates heroism or condemns it?” I cocked an eyebrow.
My father spun his hand in the air, urging me on without looking up as he spread papers out on the table.
“Loyalty. Or the concept of wergild.” I stated blandly.
“What books did you read this week?” Still not looking up from his work.
“Catcher in the Rye.” I deadpanned. “Thinking about becoming a totally ungrateful punk who swears a lot, then run off to New York City with a completely inadequate sum of money and come this close to getting molested by a former teacher before realizing that I probably have an undiagnosed learning disability or mental disorder—or a combination of both. I will be drinking alcohol throughout. Possibly smoking reefer. I expect you to be waiting by the phone to rescue me when I somewhat come to my senses. But I’ll still be an ungrateful little brat after all that. Don’t expect much of a redemption arc in my story. All of it will have been pointless—except maybe to give the spoiled little brat in everyone a reason to say ‘yeah, somebody understands me’.”
My dad finally looked up.
“Something to pass the time.” I shrugged.
“What are you prattling on about, Cooper?” He chuckled.
“Comparative literature?” I grinned goofily.
“You just ripped Salinger a new asshole. In a few sentences, son.”
“Language, young man!” I jabbed a finger at him.
My dad laughed and went back to shuffling papers around on top of the kitchen table, looking as though he had better things to do than worry about me diminishing a “great American novel”.
“I’d hate to hear your thoughts on The Bell Jar.” He chuckled.
“Well, now that you mention it…”
Dad held a hand up to stop me and slapped another to his chest, indicating that he couldn’t do with anymore of my slandering literature.
“You look like you have your hands full this weekend.” I stated innocently as I watched my dad going through his piles of papers.
“A lot of essays to read and grade.” My dad explained nonchalantly. “Fucking kids—sorry—don’t know Tolstoy from Dostoyevsky. Miserable little shits.”
“In their defense, most adults don’t either.” I laughed. “Anna Karamazov was an amazing book, though.”
My dad looked up with genuine pain in his eyes.
“I know you know that that is wrong.” He grumbled. “But must you insist on completely ripping my heart out, Holden?”
“I’m giving you practice for the little shits in your classroom, Mr. Spencer.” I grinned again.
“Thank God I never had to teach you before.” He shook his head with a smile. “I don’t think I would survive. Luckily, the school has rules about parents teaching their own asshole children.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” I shook my head with a silly frown. “I’m pretty sure that you pulled some strings with the academic board for that one, father.”
“Yeah.” He snorted. “They listen to me all right.”
We both laughed together, a shared animosity towards anyone with any authority at Dextrus Academy. While neither of us hated the place, we knew that they were not our people. We were outsiders. We were, in their eyes, poor. That made them our enemy and made them treat us with indifference. The lion doesn’t worry about the opinion of lambs, after all.
“So…grading essays all weekend, then?” I continued.
Dad looked up at me and his shoulders slumped.
“Again?”
“Well, you’ll be busy anyway.” I shrugged.
“Why can’t Alex come here?” He went back to shuffling his papers.
“Because his parents are afraid he’ll come home with poverty, obviously.” I answered. “At best, lice.”
Dad couldn’t but laugh.
“They think poverty is a contagious disease.” I made him laugh harder. “He’ll show back up after a weekend here in garb from Target. Or, horror of horrors, Walmart. With lice and ring worm, of course.”
My dad laughed for a few moments, then settled down.
“Fine, fine.” He waved me off. “Go over to Alex’s house. How’s he doing anyway?”
I shrugged. “Okay, I guess. He’s…Alex.”
“You two aren’t…doing…things are you?” My dad looked up, an eyebrow arched in my direction.
“Things?” I held a hand to my chest. “What kinds of things, father? Drinking? Drugs? Butt sex??”
My dad frowned at me.
“Just because I came out to you when I was fourteen and told you in confidence that Alex is also gay doesn’t mean that we’re getting each other up the pooper.”
My dad grimaced.
“Oh, my gosh! I shocked you.”
“I’m not shocked, son.” He shook his head. “But it’s called ‘anal sex’, not…whatever terms you’re using. You don’t have to try and be crude with me.”
“You don’t have to insult my intelligence with allusions, either.” I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I’m eighteen-years-old.”
“I relent.” He held up a hand in defense. “Fine. Are you and Alex participating in anal sex?”
“No.” I stated calmly but firmly. “Or oral sex, before you ask. Or mutual masturbation.”
My dad just stared at me.
“Your son is still delightfully—in your mind—a complete and total virgin.” I bowed slightly at the waist.
My dad frowned for a minute.
“What?” I asked.
“Well, you’re not ugly.” He explained. “Why are you having trouble with the fellows? I mean, I don’t understand wooing other men, so I can’t help much, but…”
“For crying out loud, dad.”
“I’m just saying, you must be doing something wrong.” He shrugged. “I lost my virginity at fifteen.”
“Yeah.” I scoffed. “To mom. And then you guys dated the rest of the way through high school, college, and then got married. One sexual partner doesn’t make you a stud, dad.”
“At least I’m not a virgin. Nerd.” He stated under his breath, teasing me.
“Get a date.” I glared at him. “With a human woman. Who’s under fifty. Then I’ll let you tell me what I’m doing wrong with the fellows. Okay?”
My dad laughed and stood from his seat. Before I could stop him, he had rounded the table and wrapped me up in a
bear hug, pulling me tightly into him. To make the humiliation worse, he gave me a kiss to my forehead—like he’d been doing since I was a baby.
“I am so uncomfortable right now.” I grunted as he held me tightly.
“How can you even be gay if you can’t accept a kiss from your dear old dad?” He laughed and let go of me.
“I think the saying it is worse than the doing it.” I stuck out my tongue in disgust.
“Go to Alex’s house you little shit.” He gave me a light punch to the shoulder. “But behave.”
“All right.” I smiled and chucked him under the chin. “Do you want me to Yelp! your dinners for you? China Garden has that Moo Shu Pork back on the menu that you love so much.”
When I was going to be away from home for any length of time, I set up food deliveries for my dad on my Yelp! app. He didn’t quite get how apps and most technology worked. He was a comparative literature teacher, after all. If I didn’t order my dad’s meals for him, I usually cooked a butt load of meals and put them in the fridge for him. My dad is a completely capable adult—but cooking is something he never mastered. Unless of course it involved a microwave, Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, or Instant Ramen.
“My God, yes.” He rubbed his belly. “Thanks, son.”
“No problem.” I replied as I turned. “I’ll order it before I go.”
“Cooper?” My dad stopped me.
“Yeah?” I turned to look at him.
“If you and Alex were having…sex…you would tell me, right?” He asked gently.
“Of course, dad.” I rolled my eyes with a laugh. “I truly am a virgin. Through and through. But I’ll tell you as soon as that changes, or I know it’s going to change, or…whatever.”
“Be careful.” He squeezed my shoulder.
“I’ll take that in all the ways you meant it.” I chuckled.
“All right, smartass.” He let go of me. “Go spend the weekend away from your poor old dad.”
“Will do, captain.” I saluted him comically and headed towards the stairs.
“Don’t forget my Moo Shu Pork!” He hollered after me. “And dumplings!”
I pulled up to Alex’s house and parked my car in my usual spot in the driveaway—as far from the road as possible to thwart any nosiness from the neighbors. Night Terrors of 1927’s album “Everything’s Coming Up Roses” was playing lowly, fed to my radio through the aux cord from my phone. Let me get one thing straight, Alex and his parents have never indicated that they were embarrassed by me or my car. Neither had they indicated that I should park as far away from the road as possible. But I’m not idiot—I know how people in certain neighborhoods act. I didn’t want to give the Johnson’s any reason to decide that I shouldn’t come over. They had a swimming pool after all.
Not that I was friends with Alex because he was rich and had a big house with a swimming pool. Even though he had too much energy and teased me way too often, he was absolutely my best friend. Ever since we met freshmen year, we were inseparable. Of course, now that we were seniors, I tried to make sure my identity wasn’t built around the friendship. But, he was still my best friend in the whole world.
As I got out of the car and grabbed my bag, I thought about the summer before sophomore year. I spent almost every weekend at Alex’s. Since, as has been established, my dad is a teacher, he’s off all summer, thus he got to spend the other five nights of the week with me and didn’t get as upset at my sleepovers at Alex’s. Alex and I watched every scary movie, ate every unhealthy snack, swam until we burned, then eventually became deeply tanned, just built some of the best memories of our entire friendship that summer.
In fact, it was during that summer that Alex came out to me. We were laying in a couple loungers beside the pool, far away from the house. Alex suddenly sat up in his lounger, threw his legs over the side, and blurted it out to me. I propped myself up on my elbows, looked him right in the eyes and replied ‘Me too’. Then I laid back down. Alex sat in shocked silence for a few moments before saying anything else. ‘So…this doesn’t change anything.’ he stated evenly to himself in disbelief and with quite a bit of relief. ‘Well, you admitted it first, so I think that means you have to go get us sodas.’ Alex laughed—but he went and got us a couple of drinks from the house.
And nothing had changed. Well, we did talk about guys and more “gay” things, but we were still the same friends as always. Nothing else changed. It was nice knowing that I had a friend that I could share everything with. Of course, I had lots of friends at school, but none of them were Alex. None of them knew that I was gay. And none of them made me feel safe to just be me, no matter what I was doing.
“Oh, Cooper, darling.” Alex’s mom answered the door with a gin and tonic, which she always had in hand after five o’clock in the afternoon. “Alex said you were coming over.”
Why’d you act so surprised when you answered the door, then? I wanted to ask.
Instead, I smiled and said, “Yeah. I had to see dad before I could head this way.”
“Of course you did.” She agreed as she closed the door behind me. “How is your father, dear?”
“He’s well.” I continued to smile. “Thank you.”
“You know where Alex is, darling.” She motioned vaguely to the floor. “Tell him dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, will you?”
“Yes, ma’am.” I agreed before walking towards the hallway where the doorway to the basement was located.
Without knocking to announce my arrival, I pulled the door open and headed down the stairs, closing the door and locking it behind me as Alex preferred. He kept the door locked so his parents and sister couldn’t bother him without his consent. However, he always kept it unlocked if I was coming over so that I wouldn’t have to wait to escape his family, too. The album “Flaws” by Bombay Bicycle Club was pouring out of Alex’s sound system. I rolled my eyes.
Alex was laying on his weight bench, doing bench presses as the melodic, yet somber music played. Tossing my bag next to the futon in the corner of the basement, where I usually slept, I walked over to stand next to Alex. Apparently, he hadn’t heard me arrive and the bar almost slipped from his hands. Just as I reached out to grab the bar and keep my friend from getting decapitated, he corrected himself and let it slide into place on the rack. Sweat was beading all over Alex’s upper body and forehead. Apparently, he’d been at it for a while before I showed up.
“Who works out to this?” I twirled my finger in the air, as if music was particles in the air that could be seen by the naked eye.
“It keeps me from raging.” Alex looked up at me from his spot on the bench.
“Your mom said dinner will be ready in twenty minutes.” I shrugged and walked towards the couch against the wall.
I plopped down, pulling my legs up to sit in the lotus position on the couch. Alex sat up on the weight bench, sweat beads rolling off of his naked torso to the concrete floor below. I grabbed Alex’s iPhone off of the side table and went to his music, lowering the volume. Changing the music would be rude but lowering it to a volume where we could easily speak was polite.
“Did you hear about A.J.?” Alex’s face lit up with excitement.
“About him getting caught jerking off in chem lab?” I asked blandly as I reached for a magazine on the coffee table.
“Mmhm.” Alex nodded furiously. “Heard he had his dick out, going to town—apparently it’s huge—and when Dr. Sanders walked in, A.J. had a fear orgasm and shot a load big enough to fill a beaker.”
Alex laughed loudly.
“What size beaker?” I asked, not looking up from my magazine.
“Huh?”
“Like a 50 milliliter, 100, 250…”
“What’s the difference?!?” Alex threw his hands up with a wide smile at my question.
“Inaccurately measured volume.”
“Oh. My. God. Coop—it doesn’t matter. Even 50 milliliters is impressive. And any…volume…is funny since apparently he shot it all over Dr.
Sanders!”
I shrugged. “It’s also not true.”
“Of course it is.” Alex argued. “Caden told me that…”
“That it happened fifth period yesterday while Dr. Sanders’ class is empty.” I nodded, still browsing the magazine. “But A.J. was in AP Psychology with me during fifth period yesterday and he never left. Also, Dr. Sanders was in a parent-teacher conference until seventh period.”
Alex just watched me.
“The person who started that rumor didn’t check their facts.” I glanced up from my magazine, then quickly realized I wasn’t interested and closed it and set it back on the coffee table.
“You should work for Snopes, Coop.” Alex beamed at me.
“Politifact, maybe.” I chuckled. “You commoners and your standard rumors!”
“I better text Martin and Ray.” Alex actually giggled. “I told them what I had heard from Caden.”
“Martin and Ray aren’t dumb enough to believe a rumor that Caden started and you passed along.” I snorted.
“Do you come here just to abuse me?” Alex gave a taunting frown.
“It is part of the fun.” I replied.
“What did mom say was for dinner?” Alex changed the subject.
“She didn’t.”
“That means take out.” Alex rolled his eyes. “If she actually cooks, she can’t help but brag about what she’s making. Wonder if it’ll be Indian, Thai, or Chinese. She’s been on an Asian food kick lately.”
“There’s never a bad time for Asian cooking.” I shrugged. “Though, I guess that covers a lot of countries, so, ya’ never know.”
Alex relented with a half-hearted head wiggle before developing another sinister grin on his face. Those types of grins from Alex usually meant that he was developing a very bad idea, had done something bad, or heard some pretty juicy gossip. Underneath the façade of the muscled, lean body and All-American Jock face there was a fierce, catty queen. I couldn’t help but laugh as soon as I saw the grin.