by Seth King
“Oh,” I say, pulling away.
“Oh,” she whispers, staring at me. Thad looks over at us, confused, and a little shocked. I would be, too. We broke up months ago and yet here we are, hamming it up, once again. And I still love her.
I still love her, I realize as she blushes and sets down her drink. I don’t understand exactly how, and in what form, but I never stopped loving this girl at all. She’s my best friend in the world – I met her even before Thad, when she marched up to me in P.E. class in elementary school and asked me to go on a walk with her. We got detention for leaving the boundaries of the playground, but it didn’t matter – we’ve been partners in crime ever since.
She gawks at me, her eyes growing glassy and her lip trembling. “You made my whole life hurt,” she blurts out.
“What?”
She wipes her mouth a little sloppily. “I’m mad and drunk, so there you go – that’s the truth. You walked away while I spent an entire summer crying myself to sleep. You acted like we never mattered, like it was nothing. And it’s even worse, now that you sit here and refuse to admit the elephant in the room. You broke my heart. Why do you think I-”
She stops herself. I come closer and rub her arm. “Caro. Please. How do you think it was for me? I was so alone after that. We have such a history – do you think it was a piece of cake for me to just become single again? I’ve been so lonely…”
She looks away, pouting. “Oh, boo hoo – you’re the one who distanced yourself.”
“And you’re the one who got caught stalking me several times and trying to look through my Gmail account.”
“Whatever,” she hiccups. “And you didn’t even give me the dignity of a proper dumping, you just phased yourself out.”
I sigh. With Caro it’s usually hard to tell what is genuine emotion and what is just another drama meltdown, but this time she’s really crying. I pull her closer, and it fills me up with a warm, comfortable sensation I can’t even begin to explain.
“Look,” I begin. “I’ve actually been thinking a lot lately, and I’m sorry. Truly, really. I apologize. For everything. I was a dumb kid and I didn’t know what I was doing. I’m growing up so much, and I didn’t understand the power of my actions. It never occurred to me that you could love me.”
“Why?”
“I guess I kind of hated myself and my life, and I didn’t even know it. I was depressed.”
“Really? Why?”
I glance off into the massive backyard facing the marsh. “I’m still figuring it out. But anyway, I’m sorry.”
“What about you, then?” she asks soon. “What’s going to happen to you?”
For a moment I want to spill and tell her everything – that I’m apparently gay now, that I met Ty, that he makes me happier than anyone I have ever met. But it’s Caro – how would I even say the first word?
“I’ll be fine, Caroline. I will.”
“Okay,” she finally says. “And it’s okay. I’m starting to learn that everything happens for a reason, even when you don’t know the reason yet…”
She cuts herself off and looks away.
“What does that mean?” I ask. What does she know? Has she already seen me with Ty? Is this all part of her game?
“Nothing.”
“Stop. I know that look. What does it mean?”
“It means I’m pregnant,” she says, everything in me stops moving.
“What? No you’re not. No.”
“Fine,” she says, as I sink about five inches. “I know I’m not. Just kidding.”
“Thank fucking God. What’s the issue, then?”
“Nothing,” she says quickly. Her eyes leave me again, though, and that’s when I know for sure that she’s hiding something. But what?
~
After the disastrous party I meet Ty at Artillery, a classy, old-school restaurant and bar, for a nightcap. After I park my car I realize I am literally running down the sidewalk for the front door. All the angst melts away the second my eyes touch him – I could not be more relieved to be seeing him. I am immediately entranced by how at home he looks in such a well-designed space: his arms look especially toned under his tattoos, his flannel shirt is hanging off his frame like he’s a mannequin, and his lips are pink and wet. Once we’re in the darkness of a booth beside the bar, I kiss those lips immediately. And as I do, my heart beats at a rhythm I’ve never felt before, and I know with certainty that this, this is the life I want. I want Ty, in beautiful restaurants and stately old public parks, in shopping malls and gay bars and dark bedrooms, in countless other places we will visit together, forever, in heaven and in hell. This is what I want. This is what I need. No more back-and-forth. I am his now.
“You just kissed me in public,” he says, somewhere between confused and elated. More elated, though.
I blush. “So what, this is probably the gayest restaurant in Savannah. And plus, I couldn’t resist. You are so beautiful it makes my chest hurt.”
“Wow,” he says, his face expressionless.
“What?”
“It’s just that I didn’t think I could ever like you any more, but I just did. It just became more.”
“Aw. You’re my more, too.”
Finally he leans away.
“So, straight guy,” he laughs after we order. “My straight Henry. What does this mean? Are we together? For real? Finally?”
I swallow and put my napkin in my lap. “I guess?”
“What does that mean?”
“It means you take up all the space inside me, and I’m with you right now, and I want to be with you as often as possible, maybe forever.”
He deliberates for a moment, then finally a smile breaks through. “Forever. That can be arranged.”
“Good.” I lean in. “Oh, and also?”
“Yeah?”
“My butt isn’t sore anymore, and I’m craving you again already. Can you fuck me again tonight?”
His smile fades into a smirk. “That can also be arranged.”
14
That week we get some time off for autumn break. Ty tells me he has to go to Sea Island for a group project, a ritzy resort on the Georgia coast.
“Oh,” I say as he packs some clothes, dejected. “Okay. I’ll miss you, I guess. It’s cool, I probably needed a day to hang out around the house, anyway.”
“Huh?” he asks, looking up. “You’re coming, right?”
“Oh. I mean, I guess.”
And that’s when I realize I don’t even need alone time anymore – being around him is like alone time. He’s like me, just better.
The trip is uneventful, except for when I push him into a closet and hook up with him. But a few hours later I get lost in the maze of the resort without cell service, and soon I just get the weirdest sense that he’s in a certain hallway off the main lobby – I can’t explain it, I just feel sure that’s where he is. And lo and behold, I find him there. I was drawn there on energy alone – are we really becoming that close? How can you explain any of this? How could anyone?
At the end of the break I do the gayest thing I’ve done yet: with a few phone calls, I pull some strings at my dad’s company and secure a box at the Beyoncé concert in Atlanta. Ty and I pool our money to rent everyone a limo, and when his friends show up for the pickup at my place, they’re all dressed as different eras of Beyoncé – some are in the Single Ladies leotard, others are in the Southern-style looks from Lemonade. (I guess it says a lot about my current life that I can even point out these details at all...) We end up taking shots and smoking weed the whole trip there, and all of us are wrecked by the time we take our seats.
Queen Bey opens with Crazy in Love, and as the lights dance across our seats, I turn to Ty, whose face is shining like a disco ball.
“My disco kid,” I whisper, smiling at him. His face makes me realize how truly, deeply happy I am in this moment, and then I see the vast expanse of my old life before him echoing out behind me and I am visited by a strange thou
ght: how many people ever get to be happy? Honestly, truly, ludicrously happy? How many people get to rush out of bed in the morning instead of lingering and dreading the day; how many people get to run to someone they love and look into their eyes and feel like they are being flung off a waterfall? His love is such a gift. Then I get a sensation in my face that tells me we’re lucky – we’re so lucky. Everyone searches for this, but somehow we found it. We are building a miracle together, and we have to protect it. We must keep it safe.
“What?” he calls over the music.
“Nothing. Just hold my hand, please.”
I hold mine out for him, and he takes it. He doesn’t let go until the encore, and even then, it is begrudgingly.
On the way home, Ty falls asleep – and he’s the most adorable sleeping angel I’ve ever seen. The way he’s slightly smiling, the way his head is resting in my lap – it makes me want to take him home and keep forever, like a toy or something. His friend Zed seems to notice my reaction, and he scoots a bit closer on the seat.
“So,” he says, his brown eyes shining. “You and Ty – you’re a thing now, right?”
I throw a falsely-shocked look down at his head in my lap. “Gee, how ever did you know?”
Zed laughs. “Seriously, though, how did it happen?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well I had a class with you once, and I figured you were – well, straight. Or the kind of ‘straight’ that will never, ever come out as bisexual, at least, if you get my drift.”
I smile, then sigh. “Well, the thing is – it’s a long story, actually. Before Ty, I actually was straight – I had never been interested in a guy in my life. No porn, no secret hookup apps, nothing. And I have no reason to lie about that – I’d happily admit it if it weren’t the case.”
“Wow.”
“I know. It’s weird.”
“I’ve actually heard of that,” he says soon, “but mostly from guys from redneck-type backgrounds, who probably felt those impulses before and just suppressed them. But I never saw that vibe from you. Right here, I don’t, either.”
“Because I’m not like that. I was totally accepting. I just wasn’t gay.” I pause. “What do you think? Do you think a sudden change is possible?”
“Girl, are you kidding? I can’t even figure out my own situation, much less anyone else’s. All I watch is lesbian porn, and yet I’m desperate for a boyfriend. The sooner we forget about all that shit and just rock with it, we’ll be good.”
My mind starts to race, and I decide to use the opportunity to creep on Ty. There’s still so much I don’t know about him. “Hey,” I say. “What’s Ty really like? How do his friends see him?”
He laughs, then cringes. “Want me to be honest?”
“Sure.”
“Well…everyone likes him. Everyone. And it’s always been like that. His eyes, his tattoos, his body…we try to treat him like a friend, but let’s be real – any one of us would hop on his dick at any time. No offense.”
This makes me grip him harder, but I don’t say anything.
“Beyond all that,” Zed says, “he really is an amazing person, and so smart. And such a big heart. And we all laugh at how he sees red whenever he sees intolerance and injustice – he wants to protect everyone he can, and it makes him crazy. But at the same time he’s just always been kind of…down. A little depressed. We called him ‘the emo Abercrombie model.’ But he’s been a different person since he met you.”
“Really?”
“Oh, hell yeah, girl. He laughs, he comes around more, he’s lighter and happier. At first I thought it was just because he was getting some good dick, which makes all of us happier, but then…”
He trails off.
“But then, what?”
“Honestly,” he says, “I think he’s completely in love with you.”
~
And then the rain comes. The concert pictures are sent out the next day, and by that night, I am tagged in dozens of posts featuring men dressed as women. More than a few eyebrows are raised. My father texts me that he “heard I had fun,” and I can practically hear the confusion in his voice. What is his straight, masculine son doing with drag queens? Even Thad messages me, asking what the deal is. I don’t respond. Our friendship is already broken anyway, so how would I even being to explain this? How would I tell him I’ve been keeping my love life from him for months? Should I just “come out,” or was that a thing people even did anymore?
Ty notices me deleting a few of the photo tags, and he’s icy in our texting conversation that night. I pull away a little for a day, because really, I’ve been neglecting my schoolwork more and more lately, and I don’t want to put all my eggs in one basket. The next day we meet for a walk in Forsyth Park, and he shows up in a trench coat and a pair of Timberlands, looking like a Forever 21 catalogue. A full minute passes before I can even take my eyes off him long enough to talk.
I start telling him a story about Gus, my favorite childhood dachshund, but he doesn’t care.
“Why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t ready to come out?” he asks suddenly near this famous oak tree, stopping and looking at me.
“What?”
“I’m starting to get sick of all this, Henry. The day I met you, I figured you were an awesome, confused dude who wanted a boyfriend. I never knew you’d keep me secret, keep me out of your life, push me away whenever things get serious, even tell waitresses we’re not dating.”
“Excuse me?”
“Which of your friends have I met? Which of your parents have I been introduced to? When have we ever gone over to your friends’ houses for some wine and gossip? You keep me in outer space, Henry.”
“Ty,” I sigh. “Who said I was even in any closet to begin with? I go everywhere with you, I do everything with you, I have no problem being seen with you.”
“As my ‘friend,’ though. Have you even told anyone about us?”
I stutter. “Wh-well, the-”
“Exactly. Your friends don’t even know we’re together. Maybe you don’t even like me as much as I like you.”
I have nothing to say to that.
“Ty,” I begin. “You know as well as I do that I didn’t expect this to happen. Give me time. You can’t equate all these things to how I feel about you.” Why couldn’t he see that regardless of my indecision, he was night and day to me, color and clarity, heaven and purgatory?
“I don’t want some public declaration,” he says. “You know I’ve let you move at your own pace. But I don’t want to feel like I’m sneaking around with anyone, either. And I don’t want to feel like our lives don’t intersect. I’m an all-or-nothing kinda guy, and you haven’t gone to a drag show with me.”
I swallow and realize he’s right. He’s too important for me to lose just because of something like this; something like fear.
“Okay,” I nod. “Okay. I’ll think about this. I swear.”
That evening I get an update from the girl who fell in love with her mattress saleswoman. She says they’re engaged, but that zero of her family members have agreed to show up. I give her both congratulations and an apology, then she asks about my situation, and I use it as an opportunity to squeeze some advice out of her.
Things have been a little weird lately, I say. He says I’m not involving myself in his life, and vice versa.
Then make it official. And also, get gayer.
Excuse me? I ask.
Show him you REALLY care. Show him you’re involved. You’ll regret it if you don’t. When I met Michelle, I thought her world had nothing to do with me, and it almost made me lose her. Make sure he knows you care about his life.
I take the night to myself and get lost in articles from the gay community – I’m not going to let Ty get away this easily, for a reason so stupid. I read about hate crimes, protests, religious rules, cases of beating and stoning and abuse. The more I read, the more I am riveted by what’s going on. It seems that while we’re moving forward in
some areas, other sectors of society are trying to slide backwards. The scariest thing to me is “conversion therapy,” a legal process that tries to take gay people and “convert” them into being straight again. It’s all so crazy to me that the fight hasn’t died down – even before I knew I liked a guy, I didn’t give a flying fuck about what other people did with their lives. But a large part of the population really seems to care. When the federal government declared that same-sex marriage was legal, it opened up skirmishes all over the country in less progressive areas. I read that in Alabama, many counties have stopped issuing marriage licenses altogether to get out of having to issue them to gay couples. This is simply not okay to me, on any level, no matter what happens between me and Ty. In this day and age, why is this even still an issue? Humans deserve acceptance and respect, because they’re humans – why would that even be under debate?
I think of what Ty had said at his friend’s house, about how I’m indirectly hurting the LBGT cause by keeping my new situation a secret. And I’m starting to think I agree with him. Whatever my label might be, I’m falling for another man, or already have fallen for him, and I’m part of the community now. I could be an advocate, a voice, even if I was a small one – and I’m doing nothing.
So that night I update my (thankfully anonymous) chat room posting, which by this point has dozens and dozens of comments. What happened?!!?! one user says. Come on, where have you been? Are you living out the life of your secret gay dreams??? another asks, and I laugh. I’m also blown away to see that several guys have found my post, guys with stories just like mine.
This really resonated with me, one of them says. Four years into my marriage with my ex-wife, I randomly fell in love with the new guy in my office. The transition was really hard on all of us, but he saved my life.
Good on you!! another guy says. Instead of being with Frankie when I fell in love with him, I tried to stay “straight” and became an alcoholic. Everyone in my life was judgmental and narrow-minded, and I let it scare me. But let me tell you: all the people who tell you the “sudden change” can’t happen are stupid and afraid and are sitting in their houses, bored with their miserable little lives. They’d never be bold enough to do what you did, if it happened to them. You’re so brave for jumping into it like this. Don’t forget it.