Queeroes

by Steven Bereznai

  “I could get into it,” Troy continued, “but the truth is we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here to talk about Jesse, his life, his loves.”

  He gazed upon the crowd, then down at the cue cards he’d prepared, and then back up at the crowd. He sighed and turned the cue cards face down.

  “I sense a lot of emotion out there. Sadness. Disbelief. Even some anger. According to the grief counselors, anger is to be expected. It’s like we’ve been abandoned by one we love.”

  He took a deep breath.

  “But there’s something they’ve left out, something no one wants to talk about. Jesse killed himself. We all know it, and we all pretend to want to know why. Well, here it is. My best friend hanged himself after he was sent a video of him and another guy being intimate together.”

  There were murmurs in the crowd.

  “It’s been in the papers now, but still no one thinks I should be talking about it here. You’re thinking, that’s not how Jesse would want to be remembered. Or, he was set up. It’s that other guy’s fault. But I can’t help but look out at this crowd and wonder, what if Jesse had not killed himself? What if, after that video got out, he’d showed up at school the next day? What if he showed up holding that other guy’s hand? I won’t ever get an answer, not for sure, but whatever Jesse imagined happening, he pictured your faces, the faces I’m looking into right now. He feared you all so much that he’d rather die than face you as himself. This is a guy who squared off against linebackers on steroids without blinking.

  But he couldn’t face you. You want to know who that other person in the video was? It was me. I loved him as a friend, and as more than a friend.”

  There was a rustle of shock running through the crowd. At the back of the auditorium, Chad felt salty tears dribble down his cheeks. Jesse’s mom and dad sat in the front row. She gripped her mouth and her husband put his arm around her shoulder, glaring at Troy.

  “That’s enough,” the principal said under his breath, appearing ready to storm forward. Chad’s dad grabbed him and held him back.

  “Let him finish.”

  The principal looked ready to argue. The coach outweighed him by eighty pounds of pure muscle.

  “I said,” the coach repeated in a stony voice, towering over his boss, “let him finish.”

  “I’m sorry,” Troy said, “I’m not trying to be dramatic, but if we’re going to remember Jesse, then we’re going to remember him for more than the mask he felt he had to wear every day so that he could pass as someone he knew you would like, and admire, and look up to. He made the decision to end his life. Him, and only him. But each of us killed him in a million little ways. When the guys on the football team would call each other ‘fag.’ When we picked on anyone who didn’t quite fit in. When we stuck to our own little cliques. We’ve all done it, but maybe if we’d done it a little bit less, he’d still be here.”

  He thought of Liza and Devon. Had they been driven to this?

  “Suicide isn’t an answer…”

  Or murder.

  “We have to remember that, and we have to be better for each other.”

  He paused, and took a deep breath.

  “I love you, Jesse, and I miss you very much.”

  At first no one reacted.

  Chad stepped forward, in his little silver Speedo, clapping loudly. Everyone turned and stared, and for a moment his father looked like he wanted to crumble into dust. But, hardening his face, Coach Lenwick began clapping in time with his son.

  Markham stood up and jerked Riley up with him. Riley glared at the rest of the football team, and soon Troy was receiving a standing ovation.

  Jesse’s mom cried harder than anyone, but she too struggled to her feet.

  Only his dad remained seated, and Troy felt the waves of hatred buffeting off him. It was then Troy wondered if it really was the kids at school that Jesse was most afraid of facing.

  “So now what?” Chad asked hours later as he drove Troy home.

  Chad wore Troy’s suit jacket.

  “Go to school tomorrow, I guess,” Troy replied. “Unlike Jesse, they’re going to have to deal with me.”

  There were, however, several loose ends Troy, Chad, Mandy, and Gibbie had to tie up. Gibbie had suffered a cracked skull, but no concussion, and after the doctors patched him up it was he who carried Devon and Liza’s bodies to Mandy’s car. Many people would have seen them, which is where Mandy came in handy.

  Gibbie and Chad dug the graves in an isolated field a few miles outside of town. There was no one to report either Liza or Devon missing, and the pair might have faded in the town’s memory, revived occasionally during conversations of “whatever happened to…?” except for the many twisted bodies later discovered in Mrs. Dedarling’s mansion—including what was left of Mrs. Dedarling, and Liza’s ex-boyfriend.

  Devon became the prime suspect and the focus of an entire

  episode of America’s Most Wanted.

  Falsifying a certificate that said Jesse’s remains had been cremated by mistake was a little trickier, but Mandy managed to filch the necessary paperwork from the crematorium. It was Troy who delivered the remains to Jesse’s parents. His dad slammed down the newspaper and left the room as soon as he saw Troy at the door, but Jesse’s mom gave Troy a big hug.

  “You are very brave,” she said to him, “and I wish our son had told us he was gay. I wished we’d been better parents.”

  Troy nodded.

  “I know how you feel. The words ‘if only’ keep running through my head.”

  There came a squeak of floorboards and Troy tensed, readying to face Jesse’s father. But it was not Jesse’s dad who walked into the living room. For just a moment, Troy thought it was Jesse himself. Troy flinched, thinking Devon had somehow survived, and had come for one final battle. But in flashes of detail, Troy noticed this guy was just a bit taller than Jesse, the face a nod prettier, the body geared more towards a runway than a football field, and whereas Jesse shaved his head, this young man had baby dreads sprouting from his scalp. He also wore a bright pink button-down made from silk that Jesse would have handed over to his girlfriend.

  “Hey, Troy, it’s been a while,” the young man said.

  “Felix?” Troy gaped at Jesse’s older brother. “I saw you in that Calvin Klein ad a few months back, but I still didn’t quite believe…”

  Felix shrugged, but his smile bathed in the compliment.

  “What can I say? College has been good to me.”

  Real good, Troy thought.

  “Thanks,” Felix said, though Troy was certain he’d kept his mouth closed. “Is that…” Felix pointed to the package under Troy’s arm.

  “Yes,” Troy coughed.

  He handed Jesse’s remains to his mom. Staring at the box, Troy felt his own throat constrict. It was Mandy, Gibbie, and Chad who’d scraped up what was left of the football captain’s body, and it was Mandy who’d sweet-talked the 40-year-old deadbeat at the crematorium into burning it.

  Jesse’s mom’s face grew somber.

  “I should sue them for cremating him by mistake.”

  Troy gave her an empathic nudge.

  She sighed, “But now I can keep him on the mantle. The thought of him, cold in the ground, all alone…”

  She shuddered. Felix put his arm around her and she patted his hand.

  “Felix, if you wouldn’t mind showing Troy out,” she said, giving Troy a final hug before leaving the room.

  At the door, Felix said, “I want to thank you for speaking up, about who my brother really was. You’ve got a pretty big pair on you, for a white guy.”

  Troy nodded. “Not sure that your dad feels the same way.”

  “Yeah,” Felix snorted, “and he sure as hell wasn’t happy when your speech inspired me to come out.”

  “You’re…”

  “Pink mafia,” he smiled, and Troy felt an electric exchange of sexual chemistry. Reluctantly, he forced it into the room in his head.

  �
��Well, take it easy, man,” Felix said, and Troy was disappointed by the handshake they shared instead of a hug. “And if you ever feel like checking out the college campus in Calebraton, come visit me. I’ll introduce you to the guys at my gayternity.”

  “Gay fraternity?” Troy inquired.

  Felix winked. “I get the feeling you’d fit right in.”

  And so everything was put in order, neat and tidy as could be.

  Instead of being reviled, as he assumed he would be after his speech, by the next semester Troy found himself volunteering as a peer counselor at school. Being an empath had its advantages. Even Markham and Riley came to him for advice.

  “So, since we like hanging out with each other more than with girls, does that make us gay?” Markham asked.

  “I’m going to get back to you on that one,” Troy replied, veering away from them and coming up to Chad. He gave the blond a kiss on the lips. They held hands on the way to the cafeteria.

  “I have something for you,” Chad said as they sat down with their trays of mystery meat and lumpy potatoes.

  “Here,” Chad said, handing a wrapped package to Troy.

  “It’s not my birthday,” he said, ripping it open. He smiled and held up the Paris Hilton Heiress Diary: Confess It All to Me.

  “Nice,” Troy smiled.

  Mandy sat next to them. Her hair had grown back, but she still wore the nose ring.

  “You know, this Virginia Woolf chick had some wacky ideas,” she said, setting down the book To the Lighthouse. To Troy she added, “Nice journal.”

  “My boyfriend gave it to me,” Troy bragged.

  Gibbie tittered as he sat down with them.

  “You are never going to believe who’s going to be at the Star Trek convention next month. Patrick Stewart!”

  “Jean-Luc Picard?” Mandy asked. “He’s pretty sexy for an older guy.”

  Chad and Troy looked at her in surprise.

  “I told you before, it’s not geeky to like The Next Generation,” she said defensively. “And I bet if you guys gave Deep Space Nine a chance, you’d find the war between the Federation and the Dominion to be pretty addictive.”

  Troy made a “W” with the thumbs and pointing fingers of his two hands.

  “Show them what I got you,” Chad said excitedly.

  “Hey, Paris Hilton!” Gibbie said, eyeing the journal. “Are we all on for the season premiere of The Simple Life: Battle of the Bulge? I hear Paris and Nicole have to wear fat suits the entire season.”

  “I’ll bring the popcorn,” Mandy said, giving him a high-five. As she picked at her mashed potatoes she said to Troy, “I still don’t get why you have to write in little girl journals.”

  “I told you, when I was a kid I was a little emotionally repressed,” Troy said.

  “A little?” Gibbie asked.

  “When you were a kid?” Chad added.

  “So my dad suggested I write down my feelings,” Troy elaborated. “I told him I didn’t have any, so he asked me who was the most emotional person in the world that I could think of.”

  “He said me,” Chad bragged. “He punched me in Grade 3 and I bawled for hours. I was a very expressive child.”

  “You know, I think that’s the only time I ever got sent to the corner,” Troy mused. “Anyway, whenever I was feeling a little too shut down or on the verge of punching someone, I’d channel my inner Chad and write in my journal in his voice. I really don’t see why you’re all making such a big deal out of this.”

  “The big deal is I don’t dot my I’s with little hearts,” Chad replied.

  “How come Dad never gave me a journal?” Gibbie asked.

  “Dude, you lucked out on not having to do all sorts of New Age crap thanks to me.”

  Troy sipped on his protein shake, opening the journal. A smile creased his handsome features.

  “Baby,” he said, “you even wrote me a little note in here.”

  Chad shook his head.

  “No I didn’t.”

  Leaning over, he cursed. “No wonder it was on sale. Some jerk wad’s already written in it.”

  “Wait.” Troy held up his hand. “Queeroes,” he read out loud. “They know who you are, and they know what you can do. They came for us. Now they’re coming for you.”

  The cafeteria lights flickered. The sky beyond the windows darkened. A rumble of thunder rattled the air. They looked to each other with growing worry.

  “This better not screw up prom,” Mandy snapped, “ ’cause Markham so just asked me out.”

  Table of Contents

  Cover

  Copyright Page

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Start