by Shae Connor
I make myself consider it now. Sexuality aside, Mo would certainly be a safe tour guide for a Big Gay Adventure. And maybe it’ll get me out of my head and give me something to focus on other than what’s going on with Darryn.
Sure, I send back. Give her my number and we’ll plan. But you’re going with us.
What? No way.
I grin as I reply. Yes way. Clear your schedule!
I shove my phone back in my pocket, ignoring the buzz as Annie tries to argue, and open the door to the gym. The familiar scents of sweat, plastic, and chalk smell like coming home. I deliberately don’t look toward the stands, keeping my gaze focused on the locker room door until I’m through it and safely inside.
I change into my practice gear on autopilot and then sit on the bench, waiting for Darryn to show up. He still isn’t there by the time the clock on the wall hits ten till three, though, and I start to worry. He’s never been this late to practice, and last night he didn’t come home. Add that to my conversation with Annie and Mo, and I can’t help worrying. But I also can’t stay in the locker room any longer unless I want to deal with unhappy coaches.
I reach the door out to the gym floor as Darryn darts inside. “Sorry, running late!” he calls as he hurries toward our lockers. I want to follow him, make sure he’s okay, but at a quick glance he seems fine, just rushed. I leave him to change and head on out into the gym, resolving to talk to him after practice.
I don’t look over where he usually sits, but I can feel Rich’s gaze on me as I cross to the mats and go into my usual warm-up routine. I don’t look back. If he wants to glower his way through our practices, well, whatever. It’s his wasted time, not mine.
Darryn jogs out to join the team a few minutes later, and I keep half an eye on him while he warms up. He still seems to be okay, no signs of wariness or fear, and he doesn’t look toward Rich. The knot in my stomach loosens. Maybe things are fine. Maybe I’m seeing things that aren’t there. Maybe I want Darryn too much, and it’s coloring the way I look at Rich.
Or maybe everything Annie and Mo said is right, and I need to keep my guard up in case the whole thing blows up in our faces.
Chapter Six
“Here.”
I blink down at the giant cup under my nose as my brain registers the smell of the coffee inside. “Oh my God, you’re my favorite person.” I practically moan the words as I take the cup out of Mo’s hand.
She laughs and bumps her hip against mine—or several inches above my hip, actually, considering our height difference. “Gotta get you awake before we get to the festival.”
Annie’s on Mo’s other side, both hands wrapped around her own cup of liquid gold. Mo wraps her free arm around Annie’s shoulder and turns toward the MARTA station across the street from the coffee shop that she’d made our first stop.
“C’mon,” she cajoles us. “Just a little bit farther and you can sit down to finish your coffee.”
We’re on the train in another fifteen minutes, and by the time we reach Midtown, the car is full to bursting. Annie and I are both more alert after the caffeine infusion, though she sticks close to Mo’s side as we navigate the crowds. Finding the way to the exit is no problem at all, though.
“Follow the rainbows,” Mo mutters.
I snicker. “They’re after me Lucky Charms!”
That earns me a backhand to the biceps, and even as a joke, it stings. Mo packs a wallop. “Hey, not a tennis ball over here,” I protest, rubbing the sore spot.
“Gotta keep in practice.” Mo grins, grabs Annie by the hand, and then takes off down the sidewalk, her long legs eating up the concrete. Annie’s left almost running to match Mo’s pace, and I rush to catch up, dodging around clumps of colorfully dressed people, following Mo’s head of natural curls. She usually has it corralled into a ponytail, which I imagine would be a hell of a lot easier to deal with on the courts. Today she’s left it free. The style suits her, and I see more than one head turn as she passes.
I can’t blame them. She’s not my type, of course, but her height and her graceful, athletic movements make her a standout.
My own hair blows into my face as I catch up with her, and I shove it back out of the way. “I’m thinking man bun, yeah?” I follow up the words by pulling my hair back with both hands and stifle a laugh as Annie’s eyes nearly roll right out of her head.
“You couldn’t have pulled that off even when everyone was doing it.”
Mo squints, her gaze zeroing in on my jawline. “And you’d need more than that little bit of peach fuzz to get the whole lumbersexual thing going anyway.”
I sigh and let my hair drop. “Yeah, never could get anything resembling a decent beard going.”
“S’okay.” Mo winks at me. “The young-and-freckly look works for you. Plus, all that gym work means you’ve got muscles for days. You gotta werk it, babe.”
She puts a swish and swing into her next few steps before she bursts out laughing, and I have to join in. All the weight of everything that’s been holding me back for the past few weeks flies away like it was never there, and I resolve to forget the crap and enjoy the day.
Annie, meanwhile, looks at us both like we’re off our rockers. “Is this what you two are going to be like all day?”
“Probably,” Mo shoots back.
Just then, shouting comes from off to our left, and Mo grabs both of us by the hand and pulls us in the other direction. “Yeah, no. Not dealing with the uber fundies today.”
As she drags us away, I get a glimpse of a clump of people on the sidewalk holding garish signs and yelling. I can read only a few words, but they’re more than enough for me to be happy to avoid them.
“Is it always like that?”
Mo squeezes my hand before letting both of us go. “Yep. It’ll be worse for the parade tomorrow. They always have a bunch of different groups all along the route. Pride always brings out the religious nuts.”
I guess that’s no surprise. I just hadn’t experienced it firsthand before. Of course, I haven’t experienced Pride firsthand, either. I’m betting the overall day will end up being a hell of a lot more positive.
The view as we walk into the park confirms my thought. The sheer number of rainbows would be enough, but there are couples holding hands everywhere and bright colors in all directions, flags and banners and clothes and hair. Tattoos and piercings adorn more bodies than not, and nearly every face bears a wide smile.
It’s like we’ve stepped into an alternate reality where no one hides and everyone can happily be exactly who they are on the inside.
It’s hard to describe how incredibly freeing it is.
Suddenly I wish we’d brought Darryn along today. I know I needed some time away from everything, and the festival going on around me certainly fits that bill. But as much as I don’t know how he’d feel about being surrounded by so many bold expressions of queer life, I want to share this feeling with him. I want him to know that there’s a bright, big world out here, and it’s waiting for us to jump right in.
I pause long enough to take a picture of the colorful crowd and shoot it off to Darryn with a simple message: Wish you were here!
I hurry to catch up with Mo and Annie, who stopped at the nearest booth to wait for me. They don’t ask who I was texting—their knowing smiles tell me they already know.
“Okay.” I wave an arm. “You ready to show us the gayer side of life?”
Mo laughs and leads the way. The farther we wander into the park, the larger and more diverse the crowd around us grows. Mo keeps moving, only slowing down a few times to glance into a few of the vendor booths we pass. Annie keeps pace with Mo, and I follow a few steps behind, trying not to gawk too much at the many shirtless men we pass. Yeah, sue me. I like guys, and even though my heart belongs to one guy in particular right now, I’m going to look when I’m surrounded by so many hot ones. I try no
t to stare, but…
“See anything you like?”
Whoops. Guess I’m not as discreet as I thought. Mo had paused to grab something from a vendor’s table, and my eyes had landed on the body of a big, beefy, hairy guy wearing low-slung jeans and a leather harness. My face burns at his smirking scrutiny, but I give him a hesitant smile.
“Sorry, he’s a newbie.” Mo’s back, and she bumps her shoulder against mine as she shoots Big and Beefy a grin. She turns her head toward me and bursts into laughter. “Wow, your face almost matches your hair!”
Big and Beefy chuckles, and Mo grabs my hand again. “C’mon, Studly. You need more than ten minutes at Pride before you run off for a hookup.”
She turns her smile back toward Big and Beefy as she leads me away to where Annie stands a couple of feet away, snickering behind her hand. I give the guy a shrug as I follow. She’s right. Even if I did decide to try to pick someone up today—and even if big, beefy, and leather-wearing were my type—I’m here for the full experience. Festival first, then other kinds of fun.
The smell of grilling meat and hot grease hits me as we round the next corner, making my stomach growl. Okay, maybe food before anything else.
A line of food vendors stretches out in front of us, each one with big, bigger, and biggest banners proclaiming their wares. The signs promised everything from burgers and fries to various meats on a stick to vegan and vegetarian fare to deep-fried everything.
“Fooooood.” I hold my arms out in front of me and shamble, zombie-like, toward the buffet. “Must. Have. Fooooood.”
Mo snorts. “Take your pick, Studly.”
After careful consideration for all of a minute or two, I end up going for an overstuffed gyro with a side of curly fries and a big cup of fresh-squeezed lemonade. Balancing everything carefully, I cross to where some small groupings of tables and chairs are set up in a grassy area and snag a place for us. Mo and Annie follow me a few minutes later, each carrying a rice bowl, heavy on the veggies, and their own lemonades.
We settle down to eat, but a few bites in, Mo swallows and points off to one side. “We can hit up the artsy-fartsy section after this if you want. A lot of the booths are, like, corporations and stuff like that, but there’s a whole section that’ll have some cool artwork to check out. Probably out of our price range, but browsing is free.”
I shrug and pick up a fry. “Whatever you want is fine with me. You’re the tour guide.”
Mo laughs and forks up more food. “Grant and Annie Clark, Welcome to Your Gay Life!”
“Insert rainbow here.” Annie sketches out an arc in the air with one hand, and Mo punctuates it with a bit of jazz hands.
We grin at each other before digging back into our food.
…
Seven hours later, I’m about ready to leave The Gay Life behind.
“I’m going to die.”
Mo laughs and throws an arm around my shoulders. “Wimp. Aren’t you supposed to be an athlete?”
I whimper as I pick up my feet one at a time, trying to shake off the aches. Annie’s already given up and slumped against the wall where we stand on the platform at the MARTA station, surrounded by other worn-out festivalgoers. “Walking one-point-two million miles all over Midtown uses an entirely different set of muscles than tumbling passes,” I point out. “And you spend a lot more time on your feet than I do.”
Annie groans. “Stop talking about feet. I’m trying to ignore that mine exist.”
The next train pulls in before Mo can respond, and seconds later, we’re inside and I’m letting out a sigh of relief as I slide into an empty seat next to Annie. Mo plops down across the aisle from us. “Better?”
“Much.” I stretch out my legs and rotate my ankles to try to work out the kinks. “Note to self: Pride takes advance training. Plan ahead next year.”
“Amen.” Annie’s got her head tipped against the window and her eyes closed as the train pulls out of the station, heading north toward campus. I resist the urge to lower my head onto her shoulder. I glance back at Mo instead. “The parade’s tomorrow?”
“Yeah. You wanna go back for that?”
I bark out a laugh. “I think my feet would go on strike. I was wondering if it’ll be on TV or something.”
“Don’t know.” Mo digs into her pocket for her phone. “But I can find out.”
I turn my head to watch the city fly by as we speed north. Pride turned out to be everything and nothing like what I expected. Sure, there were plenty of rowdy and even tawdry scenes, but mostly it was like any other kind of festival, full of happy groups of people eating unhealthy food, buying overpriced goods, and enjoying the clear fall day. I’d been sure I’d stick out like I’d just stepped out of a closet—because I had—but I simply felt like one of the crowd.
Having Mo and Annie there helped, of course. Mo pushed us both to spread our wings, and I lost some of my own reticence as I watched Annie’s curiosity overcome her innate introversion when she found things that piqued her interest.
I nudge her with my elbow. “Did you have fun?” I ask in a low voice.
She doesn’t open her eyes, but a small smile crosses her face. “Yeah. Thanks for making me go, dorkface.”
The train heads into a tunnel just as Mo nudges my foot with hers. “Parade’s online only. Dammit.” She sighs and gives me a frustrated look. “Lost my connection. I can send you the link once I have service again.”
“I’m sure I can find it. Google is a thing.” I have to spend tomorrow catching up on homework, so if I miss it, there’s always next year.
Mo leans forward to rest her forearms on her thighs, arching her back into a slow stretch. “What’s the verdict? Are you all in for the queer life?”
I laugh. “Kind of late to hide now.” I shrug. “It was fun. It felt…” I’m not sure how to explain that sense of belonging. “It felt… normal, I guess. Like it was no big deal.”
Mo pins me with a look. “It is normal,” she tells me. “I mean, it should be. Yeah, we’re gay, but that’s one of the ways each of us is unique. Everyone’s different, but we’re all normal.” She grins. “For whatever ‘normal’ means, anyway.”
I give her a genuine smile. “You’re good people, Mo.”
She smiles back. “Back atcha, hon.”
…
The next afternoon, I’ve got the parade set up on my laptop, my attention divided between the flash and sound of the show and the next chapter of the bio textbook on my lap, when the door opens and Darryn walks in.
My instinct is to shut off the parade. To hide. But Darryn already knows the truth, and I remind myself of how I felt yesterday—open and free—and how I wanted to share that with him.
“Hey.”
Darryn drops his backpack on his bed. “Hey. Did you have fun with Mo and Annie yesterday?”
“I did.” I glance over as he flops onto his bed. He stretches out across the mattress, one arm over his eyes, and toes off his sneakers, letting them tumble onto the floor. His T-shirt rides up as he moves, baring a tantalizing slice of his toned abs, and my stomach clenches.
I push those feelings aside yet again. Friends, friends, friends, I remind myself.
“We had a good day,” I tell him. “I’ve got the parade on now, if you want to watch some of it.”
Darryn paused in mid-stretch to look at me for a long moment but then nods. “Sure. How do I…?”
“Bring your chair over,” I tell him, rolling mine to the side to make room. “I could probably get this up on the TV…”
“Nah, this is fine.” He gets up and pushes his desk chair over to my side, but as soon as he settles in, I’m distracted. I can feel the heat of his thigh a bare inch from mine, smell his woodsy shampoo. I don’t know if I can handle him this close to me.
I suck in a breath and let it out slowly as I stare at my laptop scr
een, trying to keep my composure. The images aren’t helping much—a float full of young guys wearing nothing but their underwear, dancing to the pulsing beat of club music as they pass by.
“Wow.” Darryn clears his throat, sounding as unnerved as I feel. “Is that what yesterday was like?”
I shake my head. “I mean, yeah, there was a lot of skin, but it was, like, shorts and tank tops.” The next parade unit is led by a huge arch of rainbow-colored balloons, and I point at the screen. “Mostly it was more like this. Rainbows everywhere. Lots of colorful people. Art and food and things like that.”
From the corner of my eye, I see Darryn nod. “Sounds fun.”
“And exhausting,” I add with a short laugh. “I thought my feet were going to fall off before we got back last night. We must’ve walked twenty miles.”
“Ouch.” Darryn winces but leans closer to the screen. “Is it over already? Looks like a bunch of motorcycle cops or something.”
I glance back over as the credits start to roll. “Damn. Yeah, I guess it is. Sorry you missed most of it. Maybe next year we can—”
I cut that thought off, and an uncomfortable silence falls between us. Grasping for a new topic, I blurt out, “How are things with Rich?”
I hold back a wince. Not the best opening gambit, but it’s out there now. I’ll just have to work with it.
Darryn rolls his chair a few feet away. “It’s going fine. Why do you ask?”
And here we go. “I’m just… Well, I was talking to Annie and Mo the other day, and they said a few things that made me worry. About how Rich treats you.”
Darryn stares at me. “What’s wrong with how Rich treats me?”
I chew my bottom lip. “He just… He hovers. He’s always at practice now, watching you, and everyone who comes close to you. And then the way he grabbed your arm the other day…”
Darryn stands up, the move pushing his chair away so that it bumps into his desk. “It’s fine,” he protests, one hand coming up to rub at the spot where Rich grabbed him. “He’s just high-strung sometimes. He apologized for that.”