Reunion

by Michael Bailey

  He’d misunderstood. But I couldn’t think that quickly. I couldn’t come up with a way to explain what I really meant without telling him the rest. “Charlie, I—”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head. “I get it. You don’t want to be with me. You never really wanted to be with me. I was always your dirty secret that you didn’t want anyone to find out about. And now that you don’t have a damn thing to worry about, you still don’t want me.”

  I understood how he could feel that way. He was right. I had kept the fact that he and I knew each other a secret. “Charlie, how would I explain following someone that no one knew that I knew?”

  He looked like I had just slapped him. “You’ve been embarrassed of me this whole time. You never wanted your friends to see us together, and you certainly didn’t want me around your house.”

  “No!” I answered. “That’s not it.”

  “Then what is it? Why don’t you want to be with me?”

  I did. Desperately. But I couldn’t figure out a way to make it happen. Not without raising suspicion.

  Instead of saying anything, I remained quiet. Which he took as my answer. His expression turned hard, angry, but his lip quivered. “Fine. Have it your way.”

  I sat frozen with fear as Charlie stood and started to walk away.

  “Charlie!” I called after him.

  He stopped. Without turning, he said, “Go to hell, Noah.”

  And the one good thing in my life walked away.

  I stood for a moment, allowing the memory to wash through me. I don’t know how long I stood there, lost in it. Business inside the bar had picked up a little, but I wasn’t sure if it had happened while I was talking to Charlie or when I was at the front desk. How could I ever have been so stupid? How could I have not confided in the one person I knew would always be there? How could I have pushed him away without telling him the truth?

  Hindsight is a bitch. You replay every scenario in your head, berating yourself for the piss-poor decisions you made, knowing full well that if you had done things differently, if you had been honest, your life would have taken a completely different path.

  But maybe that was what this weekend was about. I wasn’t sure if I believed in destiny, or things happening for a reason, but I had to believe Charlie and I were supposed to meet up. Maybe we were supposed to meet up before the reunion to get all of the awkwardness out of the way and to set us back on the right path.

  Did Charlie sense that too? Was that the reason he had made the offer to share his room?

  I slowly reached out and touched the back of his neck. He leaned into my touch, and I knew, I knew, I had to do everything possible to make things right between us. It was my fault things had fallen apart, and I would do everything in my power to put us back together.

  He turned to me, smiled, and my heart did a little flutter. “Any luck?”

  I smiled back at him as I grabbed my backpack and dropped it onto the floor and took the seat next to his. “No. They still haven’t found anything. She promised to call as soon as she did.”

  Rick the bartender returned. “Another?”

  Charlie and I shared a look. “It’s up to you.”

  The fact of the matter was that I didn’t want anymore. I wanted to keep as many of my faculties as I could. If things were to move forward between Charlie and me, I didn’t want alcohol to be used as a reason. The whole, “Oh, I was drunk” thing. I wanted it to be solely because of him and me, no crutches.

  Plus, if all we had was this weekend, then I wanted to be able to remember every moment with Charlie.

  As if he read my mind, Charlie turned back to the bartender and answered, “No, I’m good.”

  I think I sighed, but I can’t be sure.

  Rick nodded and left us, going to tend to a new couple that had appeared at the other end of the bar.

  Charlie turned to me. “So.”

  I grinned at him. “So.”

  Charlie grinned back. “I know this may sound weird, but I’m exhausted.” Then he cocked an eyebrow and in his best Mae West voice, said, “Wanna come up to my room?”

  I couldn’t help the laugh that burst from me. “That was a terrible impersonation.”

  Charlie laughed too. “I know. But I couldn’t help myself. This just seems so…”

  “Surreal,” I supplied for him.

  He nodded. “‘Surreal’ is a good word for it. But I am tired, and between meeting with the realtor and the reunion, tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

  “Oh?”

  “For my restaurant. She’s supposed to be showing me some buildings that I can get on the cheap.”

  “Don’t wanna be too tired for that. You may end up making a bad decision.”

  He quirked an eyebrow at me. “You have no idea how nervous I am about this.”

  Thinking back to my own circumstances, I answered, “I might have some idea. So, then, whenever you’re ready.”

  He stood and I followed suit, grabbing my backpack as I did. We walked out of the bar without a word.

  I headed toward the elevator, but Charlie stopped. “Don’t you wanna stop and get your suitcase?”

  I stopped mid-step. He was right. I obviously wasn’t thinking clearly, the idea of spending more time with Charlie, spending the night with him, had done something to my brain. “You’re right. Hold on a sec.”

  “And your friends.”

  “What about them?”

  “Shouldn’t they know? I mean, where you are.”

  “Oh, right.” Again, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I stepped into the line at the counter, Charlie right beside me, and slid my cell phone from my back pocket. Opening the group text the three of us had, I fired off a quick one: -Found a room. See you in the morning. They didn’t need to know the details. At least, not yet. I knew those two well enough to know that I would get constant ribbing for spending the night in another man’s room, and it would not be enjoyable.

  I slid my phone back into my pocket and glanced to my side. Charlie was almost literally bouncing on his feet, from excitement or nerves, I couldn’t tell.

  Once at the front of the line, I asked the woman behind the counter for my suitcase, a small, brown thing with a red ribbon on it. My mother’s idea, the ribbon was supposed to be a way to differentiate my luggage from any that looked similar when I traveled. Unfortunately, it seemed that most people had similar ideas, complete with the color of the ribbon.

  The attendant behind the desk wheeled my suitcase around the counter, and Charlie’s eyes went wide. “How long are you planning on staying?” he asked in shock.

  I glanced down at the luggage and back at him, unsure why he was so surprised. “Just the weekend. Why?”

  “It’s just so…big. I mean, mine’s big and all. But yours is so much bigger.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I answered, “That’s what he said.” Poor joke with poor timing. But I’d never been known for good timing or delivery. “We’re talking suitcases, right?”

  His look of surprise turned into a smirk. “Uh, yeah. And, unless something’s changed, I wouldn’t go quite that far,” was his retort. “You forget, I’ve been with you.”

  I shot him my best hurt look. “Ouch!”

  “Leave it to me to bring you back down to earth when your head gets too big. Either head.”

  Then he shot me this shit-eating grin, and I knew everything was in good fun.

  But his words ping-ponged through my head. Charlie had been the one that kept me anchored when things got rough at home. Without him, I wasn’t sure if I would have ever made it through high school. And he never knew it because I never told him. He never knew any of my secrets, and it was those secrets that ultimately drove us apart.

  We turned and headed to the elevator, and I silently vowed never to let that happen again.

  Charlie punched the button to call the elevator. We stood in front of the doors, silent. Once the car arrived and the doors slid open, we got on and he jabbed at the bu
tton marked “4.”

  The elevator ride was just as quiet as the wait. Charlie was fidgeting with his hands. He looked adorably nervous. I reached out and grazed his arm with my fingers. “It’s okay. I can figure something else out.”

  He gave me a weak smile. “It’s not that,” he said. “It’s just…”

  His voice faltered, but I think I understood his meaning. “Charlie, it’s me. It’ll be okay.”

  When he looked at me again, his expression was serious. “That’s what I’m nervous about.”

  That felt like a knife straight into my heart. Regret and guilt washed through me. I wondered what kind of an effect I’d had on him when I decided to end things. I didn’t want him to be nervous around me, but I knew that was a feeling I had instilled in him. I had to figure out a way to get him over that, to show him that he had no reason to be nervous or scared that I would hurt him. I had to at least try.

  The rest of the elevator ride was quiet. I silently hoped he wasn’t regretting his decision to offer me the spare bed. I was trying to make alternative plans in case he did. I guess if push came to shove, I could just go home and come back to the hotel tomorrow for the reunion, although I didn’t want to. The entire point to this was to have a little bit of a vacation from real life. But I may not have much of a choice.

  Finally, the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Charlie silently got off and I followed. I noticed for the first time that he was a little wobbly on his feet, but he wound his way down the hall without issue and I didn’t bring it up. There was a tension in the air that I didn’t like, and I feared that saying anything would only increase that. So, I stayed silent.

  He stopped in front of a door marked 406. Sliding an electronic keycard from his pocket, he said, “This is me.”

  I waited while he slid the card into the reader. The light on the reader switched from red to green. He turned the handle and pushed the door open. Charlie went in first while I waited a moment. I wasn’t sure if I should expect another invitation or just go on in.

  My decision was made a second later when I heard a groan then Charlie frantically called out, “Don’t come in.”

  The tone of his voice told me otherwise. I barreled on in, pulling my suitcase behind me. The room looked like a tornado had gone through it. An empty duffel bag lay on the floor at the foot of one bed. Clothes were strewn all over one of the two beds. I spared a glance into the bathroom. Towels and toiletries lay everywhere. “Were you…were you robbed?” I asked, letting go of my luggage.

  I knew he hadn’t been. His laptop and tablet were on the desk. If he’d been robbed, those would have been easy targets.

  Charlie turned to me, his face an adorable pink. “No,” he said indignantly. “I wasn’t robbed.”

  “Then what happened?”

  He frantically grabbed the duffel bag from the floor, then began stuffing as many articles of clothing from the bed as he could lay his hand on. “I just need to get this cleaned up for you. Gimme a sec.”

  He raced from the bed to the bathroom, duffel bag still in hand, clothes still strewn all over the bed. I followed. “What’re you doing?”

  “Straightening up. What’s it look like?”

  “It looks like you’re about to give yourself a stroke.”

  “I promise, I’m not always this much of a mess,” he said, seeming to ignore me.

  He was bent over the bathroom counter, putting things into a toiletry bag. I approached him from behind and gently placed a hand on his back. “Hey,” I whispered.

  He seemed startled for a moment. He shot up and looked at my reflection in the mirror. “What?”

  “You don’t have to go through all this trouble for me.”

  “It’s no trouble at all.”

  “I can figure something else out.”

  “No!” His reflection softened. “No, that won’t be necessary. I offered you a bed, and I plan to follow through.”

  “I don’t want to stress you out.”

  Charlie turned around to face me. “You’re not. I’m just not used to…” His voice trailed off as he looked down at the floor and his cheeks pinkened again.

  I placed a finger under his chin, gently tilting his head up until he was facing me. “Not used to what?”

  “Not used to having someone come home with me. Not that this was my home, but I don’t pick guys up at the bar. It’s just not my sty—”

  I leaned forward, pressing my lips to his softly, effectively cutting him off. Charlie froze, but only for a moment. I placed my hands on both of his biceps, gently giving them a squeeze. He moaned into the kiss and relaxed even further.

  The kiss didn’t last long, but I didn’t intend it to. I’d only been trying to distract him, but I quickly found that it was having an effect on me as well. I had to force myself to pull away before I took things too far.

  I pulled back, but only enough so that I could see his face. “It’s okay. There’s no point in going through all of this trouble for me.”

  “But, it kinda needs to be done.”

  I took the toiletry bag out of his hand and placed it on the counter behind him. Then, I took his hand and pulled him from the bathroom. “No, you don’t.”

  “Uh…yeah I do. Where else are you going to sleep?”

  I led us to the space between the two beds. “There’s no use going through all that trouble when there’s already a bed large enough for the both of us.”

  Charlie’s eyes went wide. “You mean…you and me…in there…in the same bed,” he stammered.

  “You were always the smart one in high school. Glad to see that hasn’t changed.”

  He smiled at me. I decided then and there that I wanted to see more of those smiles, more of him.

  “We’re not having sex.”

  I choked. “No, we’re not. That’s not my intention.”

  “Then what is?”

  I sat on the empty bed, tugging him down to sit next to me. “Honestly?”

  “Preferably.”

  I scrubbed my hand over my face, buying myself a couple of seconds to decide how much I wanted to tell him. Finally, I took his hands in mine. “Okay, honesty. The truth is, I know that I hurt you. You don’t trust me, at least not fully. We’re different people than we were then, and I had a hand in changing you, at least on some level. But I just want the opportunity to get to know this version of you, and for you to see that, despite our past, I don’t want to hurt you. Not ever. You can trust me. And that I’m sorry for what happened before. I wished even then that I could tell you everything, but I couldn’t.”

  Charlie sat on the edge of the bed, quiet. I thought that maybe I had said too much, or pushed too hard. But then he spoke, and I thought maybe, just maybe, I had a chance. “Why?”

  I was lost for a moment by the question. “Why what?”

  “Why couldn’t you choose me? I never understood why we had to hide so much, why no one could even know that we were friends.”

  That question broke my heart. It was a simple question, really. But the answer was more complex, more convoluted and fucked up than I think he could imagine. I also knew that he deserved an answer. After all this time, Charlie deserved to know the truth. I placed my hands in my lap and looked down, unsure if I could even look at him as I told him the truth.

  “My parents were ultraconservative, ultra-religious. Church every Sunday, bible studies every night. I realized when I was thirteen that I was gay, but knew that I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone. Imagine growing up a homo in an ultraconservative house. My parents had dealt with enough disappointment in their lives, and the last thing I wanted was for them to be disappointed in me. So, I kept it hidden. I didn’t tell anyone. I did everything I could to excel at things that would make it easy for me to pass as straight. I’d loved baseball since I was a kid; I was good at it. And, it gave me the cover I needed.

  “It became stifling though. Maintaining a lie about who you are takes up a lot of energy. You and I met at a po
int where I needed an outlet, but I also knew that if people figured out we knew each other, there was the chance that they’d be able to figure me out, too. I couldn’t have that. Not with everything that was going on at home. Plus, as selfish as this may sound, there was something…thrilling about having you all to myself, not having to share you.”

  Charlie’s face was pinched with anger. He stood from the bed and began pacing in front of me. “So, you used me. I was your dirty secret and you used me.”

  I stood and stepped in front of him, stopping his pacing. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

  “Bullshit it wasn’t. You were ashamed of me. You never wanted to be seen with me because you were afraid that people would figure out you liked dick. You just said that. What the fuck about me screamed homo? Was I that effeminate? Did I wear a big, pink sign that said, ‘Gay’ across it?”

  “Charlie, I was eighteen and stupid. I was a fucking cliché, but I didn’t know it at the time. I was terrified, but you…you were my refuge. From all the lies, from my family, from everything.”

  “Again, bullshit. You could have told me. You could have told me about your parents. We could have figured it out together. You didn’t trust me.”

  “No, I didn’t trust me. You were the one thing in my life that was good. I didn’t know if I could effectively pass you off as a friend without giving off signals that you meant so much more. I loved you, Charlie, with everything I had. And I wanted to keep you away from all of the other bullshit that was going on in my life. But I also knew that I couldn’t be who you needed me to be.”

  “But you had your family and friends. Someone may have understood.”

  I laughed bitterly at that. He had no clue what was really going on behind the scenes at home. No one did. What I had just told him was the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

  “Look at Thomas and Ethan,” he continued. “You’ve known them forever.”

  He was right, about that part at least. What he didn’t know was that it took me years to finally come out to them. Yes, they both handled the news surprisingly well. “Charlie, you have to remember something. I was eighteen when I was making these decisions. It’s easy to look back now and think about how I could have done things differently. I wish I could. But at the time, I didn’t know any better. All I knew was that I couldn’t risk losing everything, because that’s what it felt like would happen, at the time.”