by A. J. Truman
He leaned against the bar and ordered another double. Noah bear hugged him from behind.
“You’re married,” Gideon said. “And you’re going to be a father.”
“Thank you for the life recap, brother.”
The bartender mixed Noah a gin and tonic. Noah tossed a fiver into his tip jar.
“Hannah’s nice,” Noah said, but there was a weight to his words that set Gideon on edge. “How long have you guys been dating?”
“About a month.”
“And you brought her to the wedding?” That was a question that didn’t require an answer. He was just making an observation.
“She’s really cool,” Gideon said.
Noah tasted his drink and aaaahed in delight. “Do you have a second for a brother heart-to-heart?”
“Sure?”
He walked with Noah into the hall, away from the little kids—Noah’s new nieces and nephews?—playing tag. Gideon wished he’d gotten his drink first.
He placed his drink on an empty chair and put his hands on Gideon’s shoulders, as if he were about to give him a pep talk. Shouldn’t this be the other way around?
“Thank you for getting Mom here. You are the glue of this family,” Noah said.
“Of course.”
“I know what I’m doing is unorthodox, to say the least. But that’s how I’m choosing to live my life. And it’s okay for you to do the same.” Noah had a look on his face that Gideon couldn’t read. “You don’t have to do everything she says.”
“I know.”
“I’m trying to impart this advice before it’s too late, brother.”
Noah tried to fix Gideon’s tie, but he smacked his older brother’s hand away.
“What are you getting at Noah?”
“Hannah is a really cool girl. She’s the type of girl Mom loves. Just like Beth was. But that doesn’t mean you need to date her.”
“I’m not dating her to make Mom happy. Hannah makes me happy.”
“Do you even know the difference?”
“What’s wrong with wanting to make your parents proud? Mom and Dad did a lot for us. Mom’s been through so much. So yes, I do want to make her happy.”
Noah made Gideon look at himself in the hallway mirror. “Fuck. She’s done a number on you.”
Gideon shook out of his brother’s grip. “I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about. Speak English.”
“Do you remember when we used to play hide-and-seek when we were little kids? Do you know where I always found you hiding? Under my bed with my Sports Illustrated. Funny thing was, you never tried reading the articles. You would just stare at the players.”
“How many gin and tonics have you been drinking today?” Gideon checked to make sure his mom or Hannah weren’t looking for him.
“I thought you would’ve figured it out in college,” Noah said. “Gideon, you don’t always have to be the responsible one. Hannah may be what they want, but I don’t think she’s what you want. Since we’re both adults now, I don’t have many opportunities to give you sage advice. Hell, you’ve always been smarter than me. But this whole experience with Christina has made me appreciate going my own way. You need to do the same, brother. You should be with a person that makes you truly happy, despite what Mom or those dipshits at temple think.”
The deejay put on another classic dance tune that Gideon would’ve loved to dance to—with Hannah. It summoned them, but Noah wasn’t moving. Gideon’s love for his brother flipped to anger, in a Jekyll and Hyde swap. Years of pent-up rage exploded out of him. No net, no dam, no extra-strength lock could hold it in any longer.
“I don’t want to be like you, Noah! You don’t care about who you hurt when you find your own fucking path. You make a mess, and I pick up the pieces.”
“Nobody asked you to!”
“Nobody ever does! That’s not how family works. You live in your own world and do whatever the fuck you want. Your life does not exist in a vacuum. Your actions have consequences.
“Do you know how hard this has been on Mom, what you’ve put her through? For years!” Gideon gained added respect for his parents. Their oldest son wasn’t just a troublemaker. He was a completely self-absorbed troublemaker. “I can only imagine the stress you caused Dad for all those years.”
Noah’s eyes sparked with anger. Something finally got a rise out of him. “Dad loved it. He laughed when I would goof off. He told Mom I would straighten myself out, just like he did. Mom was the one who freaked out. We all had to fall in line. Heaven forbid people gossip about us. You were young still. She could still get to you.” Gideon wanted to hear more about his father, another glimpse that he was too young to remember. “I’m sorry, Gideon. I should’ve been there before she could get to you. But I’m trying now.”
Gideon glanced at his red face in the mirror. He could’ve blended into the over-the-top floral arrangements.
“I’m trying to help you. You don’t want that life. I care about you.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“You’re gay, Gideon!”
Gideon stormed out of the banquet hall. To his right, the bridal party was lining up to be introduced by the deejay, another thing his mom was going to hate. He ran left, down an empty hall. He burst through the double doors and cold December air hit his face.
“Gideon, wait!”
Gideon stepped into the snow. The air cooled his head. Noah followed seconds later.
“Where are you going?”
“Fuck you, Noah.”
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
The brothers stared each other down. Gideon thought about all he had done for his brother, for this family. He was glue, and all Noah ever tried to do was break them apart. “You can’t stand that she loves me more. You think this will help her get on your side.”
“Listen to yourself, Gideon. Just listen to yourself.”
Gideon ripped off his boutonnière and threw it at his brother’s feet.
“What are you doing?” Noah asked.
“Enjoy your wedding.” Gideon stomped through the snow, away from the church.
“Are you serious about this?”
Gideon didn’t answer him. He didn’t think about his mom or Hannah or Noah. He charged through the snow with the determination of an Everest climber. To hell with the consequences.
CHAPTER Nineteen
Mac
It took until mid-December for the first real snow to hit campus. A few inches of white powder blanketed the buildings and piled up on sidewalk corners. Mac took his nightly walk to the grocery store to pick out dinner. Frozen meals were the best. There was no cleanup involved. Just toss away the carton. He focused on that rather than the pathetic, “party of one” vibe they gave off.
He pulled a chicken pot pie from the freezer. It seemed festive. He caught a glimpse of himself in the glass reflection. His baggy parka hung over a sweatshirt and his rattiest jeans. He felt like he had lost his life a little. It was wrapped up in Davis and Gideon. And now with the pot pie, he was on his way to losing his six pack, too.
Mac put the pie under his arm and walked to the cash register. One register over, Gideon was buying a rotisserie chicken and bottle of Sprite.
Shit. Of all nights when I let myself go full homeless person. Gideon wore his jeans that made his ass extra round. Mac assumed there was a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up underneath his jacket.
He took baby steps behind the magazine rack to stay hidden, but the cashier looked his way.
“Four sixty-nine.” She had a booming voice that was louder than any microphone. She motioned for him to come forward and pay.
Mac slid over a five from his hiding spot. Gideon picked up his grocery bags and headed for the door. Mac breathed a sigh of relief. But a second later, Gideon pivoted on his foot. He forgot his damn wallet at the checkout.
And that was when he got to feast his eyes on his pathetic, frozen dinner-eating, parka-wearing ex-roommate.
The cashier made change and gestured for Mac to get moving. She had a line and no patience for college drama.
“Hey,” Gideon said.
“Hey.” It was pretty much a vocalized grunt. Mac eyed the door, then Gideon. He made the mistake of looking up into those green eyes. They were a fucking trap. But at least he seemed to be just as awkward and uncomfortable here as Mac.
“Were you able to find a new place?”
“Yeah.” Mac couldn’t tell if his heart was racing because he wanted to get the hell out of there or he wanted to stay. Why can’t I just hate you?
“That’s good.” Gideon pointed at the chicken pot pie. His bags swayed in his hand. “Dinner?”
“Yeah.”
“Me, too. Chicken and soda.”
“You mean pop.” Fuck. Mac said it without thinking. That was a joke, and jokes were only for friends.
Gideon’s lips curved up into remnants of a familiar smile Mac still liked to picture. Nothing beat the real thing, though. “I mean soda.”
For a second, it seemed like things were like back to normal, back in the geology class (tossed) salad days. Before Gideon ran full force back into the closet. But those days were long gone.
“Have fun with Hannah.” Mac swerved around him. Right when he thought he was free, Gideon grabbed his forearm. Mac’s parka was so thick he couldn’t feel any of his warmth.
“Mac…” Gideon’s eyes dove into his. They radiated hurt and tiredness and a million other things that were on his mind.
So say something, dammit. I can’t be your mind reader.
Gideon let go, and as Mac walked out into the chilly air, he knew he had to do the same.
He texted Delia: still going to that party tonight?
Φ
The Kappa Kappa Sig holiday party could’ve been one of the Rainbow Alliance parties for all Mac knew. He counted at least seven gay guys. At a frat party. Delia told him that after one frat brother came out last year, two more did, then two of their pledges.
“I guess you can catch it,” Mac said with a smile. They hustled through a packed dance floor to Delia’s friend Lorna. She was there with the same guys from Cherry Stem. All that was missing was uptight Gideon, in his button down shirt wiggling his butt. That brought a brief smile to Mac’s face.
Henry and Nolan danced like nobody was watching, PDA central. Or maybe they wanted to be watched. They waved to him.
“Where’s your friend?” Henry asked.
“He’s at a basketball game,” Delia chimed in, saving Mac.
Henry gave an exaggerated nod, as if basketball were code for something. Mac wondered how long it took Henry’s ’dar to go off about Gideon.
Henry realized his cup was empty. “I need a refill. You want one?”
He didn’t tell Mac what it was, but it had to be either jungle juice or beer. Mac nodded okay.
“Let’s go!” He slapped Nolan’s butt like a sled dog, but without saying “mush.”
“You know, you don’t have to slap my butt all the time,” Nolan said.
“You have a slappable butt. Own it.” Henry slapped it again, and they were off.
Delia introduced Mac to the two guys remaining, Greg and Ethan. They talked to each other in the corner of the dance floor, by a row of windows strung with lights. Mac found out that Greg was the frat brother who came out last year. His ears perked up.
“Was this after you guys had started dating?”
“Yeah…kinda,” Greg said. He was tall with short brown hair and a killer smile, which was on full display. “We were friends-ish first.”
“Friends-ish? Like friends with benefits?”
“Yeah…kinda. Except we didn’t really like each other all that much.” Greg turned to Ethan who reluctantly nodded in agreement.
“I mostly didn’t like you, because you were an ass,” Ethan said.
“Nah, you liked me from the start,” Greg said with a smirk.
Ethan blushed, bolstering Greg’s argument.
“But it worked out,” Mac said, hopeful. “You came out, Greg.”
Greg and Ethan traded a curious look. “What’s going on?”
Mac spilled the whole story about Gideon to them, swearing them to secrecy. Gay guys knew the code of silence, especially with closeted guys. Mac had found people who could understand what he was going through. Ethan had conquered the gay holy grail, turning a closeted straight guy into a public, serious boyfriend. Henry and Nolan rejoined the conversation halfway through, drinks in hand.
“It’s Gay Everest,” Henry said. “Yeah, a few people have made it to the top, but most people give up or die trying. I don’t get the whole obsession with lusting after straight guys or straight-acting guys. I’m gay. I want somebody who is gay, not a guy who is trying to be straight. It’s like a weird game. It’s probably daddy issues or some shit like that. No offense,” he said to Greg and Ethan.
“You know what the difference is between Drunk Henry and Sober Henry?” Greg asked Mac. “Nothing.”
“I’m laughing on the inside,” Henry deadpanned. Then he turned back to Mac. “But seriously, I’ve seen too many guys spending their days pining after a straight guy or a guy in the closet. We live in one of the best times in history. There are more out gay men than ever before. Why waste your time on the ones who won’t even hold your hand in public? Move on dot org.”
Nolan removed Henry’s cup from his hand. Mac listened to Drunk Henry, though. Gideon obviously didn’t want to change, and Mac couldn’t wait around for him. Why should he spend his time hoping? The world was his oyster.
“Do you guys think straight guys and gay guys can be friends?” Mac asked, as if he was conducting a survey.
“Absolutely,” Greg said. “One of my best friends is straight.”
“Yes,” Ethan said. “Of course.”
Nolan nodded yes.
Henry tipped his head side to side. “Only if the guy is ugly.”
“That’s kind of offensive,” Ethan said. “I have lots of attractive straight guy friends, and it’s never been an issue.”
“Who are these attractive straight guy friends of yours?” Greg asked playfully.
The jungle juice was sweet going down Mac’s throat with an alcohol kick at the end. “I feel like dancing.”
He was at a party. People were dancing. He didn’t want to keep thinking about Gideon. Hence, he should dance.
Mac danced in place, letting the alcohol and music take hold of him. The other guys joined in. Henry and Nolan nosedived right into PDA central. Nobody cared about the stupid straight guy dancing rules. Guys danced with guys, by themselves, with girls. It was all good. Delia and Lorna danced around Mac, as if part of a ceremony. They moved further into the depths of the dance floor.
The opening bars of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas Is You” came on, and the crowd yelled their applause. The three of them danced themselves silly. Mac spilled some jungle juice on his sweater, but he didn’t care. Nothing mattered except dancing. It was the greatest release. A few times, he pictured Gideon with his heavy, determined eyes staring at him like at Cherry Stem.
“No,” Mac said to himself. He couldn’t stay glued to the past. The present was waiting for him.
Delia gave him a head nod to her left, to a guy dancing in an ugly Christmas sweater vest, one popular among senior citizen women doing arts and crafts. But the pants he wore were modern, and tight.
She wiggled her eyebrows, and Mac knew what that meant. “Are you going to do anything about that?” They screamed at him.
Mac remained dancing in place. No comment.
Delia got closer to him, and with a forceful movement of her hips, she shoved him into Rafe.
“Sorry,” Mac said.
Rafe’s bright smile and wild hair were here to party. He was as cute as Mac remembered.
“Well, this is a total surprise. I never expected to run into you at a frat party.” Rafe was extra smiley. He grabbed Mac’s arm to talk in his
ear. All classic flirt moves.
Mac placed a hand on the small of his back. He had some classic flirt moves up his sleeve, too. “Geology class is over for the quarter, and you never sat next to me.”
“I kinda got the feeling that’s what you wanted.”
“You did?”
Rafe shot him a look warning him not to go down that path. And he was right. Ignorance and denial were Gideon’s strong suit, not his.
And Gideon is in the past where he belongs.
“You’re right. I was an idiot,” Mac said. “I got hung up on some straight guy.”
“Don’t they all.”
“Gay Mistake 101. It was a bad rabbit hole.” Mac brushed a curl out of Rafe’s eyes. “But I’m out.”
Geology class was over.
“Good.”
They danced together until the end of the song. Delia sang into her fist. Mac wanted to absorb this night into his bloodstream.
“This is the part where you ask me out,” Rafe said. “Before I dance away.”
Mac got right up against Rafe’s ear, putting a tight arm around his waist. His erection poked against Mac’s thigh. “Let’s do lunch tomorrow. Not breakfast. I’m not that kind of gay.”
“Neither am I.”
Mac tugged on a Rudolph broach on Rafe’s Christmas sweater vest. “I’ll see you then.”
CHAPTER twenty
Gideon
Gideon hadn’t turned on his phone since he got back to campus. As if he wasn’t already dealing with the wedding fallout, right after they got back to campus, Hannah dumped him. He didn’t blame her. He’d left her alone at a wedding of strangers. And then right after he dumped her, he ran into Mac at the grocery store, giving him the coldest of shoulders. He didn’t want to deal with the world. His phone sat in the nightstand drawer, taunting him, waiting to see who was going to blink first.
He wondered what kind of message Noah left him, or that Noah left no message at all. He had emailed his mom that his phone was busted and was getting fixed. Another white lie. They were so convenient. At some point, Gideon stopped thinking of them as lies and more as beats in a story he was constantly weaving.