Play Me, I'm Yours [Library Edition]

by Madison Parker

  “I’m not.” His dad’s expression was sober. “Go on. Open one up.”

  “No way,” Mason said.

  “Mason, I’m not gonna ask you to put it on. Just open one up.”

  Lucas stared at the box of condoms.

  “Go on, Lucas. Mason.”

  They each opened a package and pulled out the slippery contents.

  “All right. Now show me which way is the right way.”

  “Dad, please. This is embarrassing,” Lucas said in a soft voice.

  Mason pushed his index finger into the condom and rolled it down as far as it would go. “There!” he said, wriggling his finger around inside the condom.

  “Good. Now, Lucas?”

  Lucas couldn’t make himself do it. He was holding the condom in his hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to simulate putting it on. He was too embarrassed to move. How could he be expected to do this in front of his dad? How could he do this in front of anyone? He couldn’t imagine himself ever putting on a condom and using it to… to do that.

  “Dad, this really isn’t necessary,” Lucas said, still looking down, his voice shaky.

  “Lucas, I know you’re embarrassed. I don’t like talking about this either, but I need to know that you know how to be safe. Whether you ever do anything or not, at least you’ll know.”

  “Quit being such a wuss,” Mason said. “Just put it on your finger.”

  “Just show me which way is up,” his dad said.

  Lucas turned the condom right side up and held it out for his dad to see.

  “Okay, good. Now when you put it on, you need to leave a little room on the end for—you know.”

  “Splooge,” Mason said.

  “And when you’re done, you need to hold on to it when you’re… making your exit. So it doesn’t get left behind.”

  “Literally. Ha-ha, get it?”

  Even though Mason was being an ass, Lucas was glad he was there. He didn’t think he could handle being alone with his dad, talking about this. He didn’t want his dad thinking about him having sex. He didn’t want anyone thinking about him having sex. The fact that Mason was there was the only thing that kept him from bursting into tears of humiliation.

  His dad looked inside the pharmacy bag, then hesitated.

  “What else you got in there?” Mason said. “Lube?”

  No, no, no, no, no! Lucas held his breath.

  His dad cleared his throat. “No. You need to use condoms for… other things too.”

  “Like what? Water balloon fights?”

  “No, like—uh….” His dad paused, unable to get the word out. “When you’re having contact with someone’s… mouth.”

  “Eww!” Mason said, scrunching up his face. “Who wants to suck on a rubber? Gross.”

  Lucas had never been more uncomfortable in his life. Gay or not, he didn’t want his dad thinking about someone doing that to him. And he certainly didn’t want his dad thinking about him doing that to someone else.

  “Someone who cares enough about you to put your safety first, that’s who,” his dad said. He reached in the bag and pulled out two more boxes of condoms, handing one to each of them. The box said “fruit flavored.” Had his dad really gone through the checkout with four boxes of condoms?

  “Hey, Lucas, it’s your favorite flavor,” Mason said. “Cockberry.”

  “That’s enough, Mason. Now I also want to talk to you boys about the proper way to treat a woman—or man. Never, ever, pressure someone into doing something they’re not ready to do,” he said, looking at Mason. Then he looked at Lucas and added, “And never let anyone pressure you into doing something you’re not ready to do.”

  “Got it, Dad,” Mason said.

  “Any questions?”

  Lucas shook his head.

  “I have a question,” Mason said. “I mean, I’ve heard people talk and stuff, but….”

  Lucas glanced at his brother. For once he sounded like he was being serious.

  “Well, you know how girls say some guys are good or bad at it? What makes you good? I mean, I don’t want to suck at it.”

  Lucas couldn’t believe his brother asked that. Not that he didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “First of all, you’re only fifteen, so I hope the girls aren’t saying that. But to answer your question, sex shouldn’t be about making yourself feel good. It should be about making your partner feel good. Remember that and you’ll do fine.”

  Lucas felt like he was trapped in a parallel universe. His dad was normally so reserved, and here they were talking about such deeply personal things.

  His dad stood. “Come on, Mason. Let’s give Lucas some privacy.”

  “Yeah, he can practice putting his armor on,” Mason said, holding up a condom-covered fist.

  Lucas got up and locked his door behind them. He’d been on the verge of tears the entire conversation but was determined not to let his emotions get the best of him. The subject of anal sex was the one part about being gay he hadn’t reconciled himself with. He was curious, but he felt guilty whenever he thought about it. Did all gay men do that? Would he be expected to do that? He didn’t think he wanted to. It seemed kinda gross. Would it hurt? Would it be dirty? What if there was stuff up in there? He lay still on his bed as the questions continued to creep into his head.

  IT TOOK Lucas a while to recover from the “father-son” talk. An hour had passed before he moved off his bed and another before he unlocked his bedroom door. Determined to hide out in his room for the rest of the day, he donned his headphones and plugged into his keyboard. He was grateful at times like these that he had a keyboard at home instead of a piano. He could plug in and play for as long as he wanted without drawing attention to himself. He could let go, let the music carry him away, without fear that if others could hear, they would know how he was feeling. As much as he liked playing pop songs, he always preferred classical pieces when he needed to relax and clear his mind.

  He spent much of the afternoon practicing Träumerei by Robert Schumann. Mrs. Davidson had introduced him to it earlier in the year. She told him it was from a collection of pieces Schumann wrote in memory of his childhood.

  “When you play it,” Mrs. Davidson said, “think of a child who has fallen asleep and is dreaming peacefully.”

  The emotional power of the piece had captured his heart immediately. He liked to play it slowly, giving full value to the pensive, long-drawn notes. If he allowed it, he himself could get lost in its dreaminess.

  By the time his mom returned home late that afternoon, the atmosphere in the house had returned to normal. Even so, he didn’t offer to help his mom with dinner for fear she’d ask how the talk had gone. He could’ve used the distraction, though. Time seemed to crawl as he waited for eight o’clock to arrive.

  He’d taken extra care while getting ready, making sure he looked his best. This was a real date. Someone liked him enough to ask him out. Someone cool and sophisticated. Someone gay. He hoped no matter where they ended up going tonight, he’d be able to relax and keep the conversation going. Let him do the talking, his mom had said. Laugh at his jokes. He could do that.

  He wondered if Donovan would try to kiss him. Did Donovan even think of him like that? Their coffee date hadn’t given him much to go on. Donovan had been nice enough, but he hadn’t been romantic or anything. He didn’t try to hold Lucas’s hand or kiss him. Granted, they’d been in public. And they were boys. Maybe that’s how it was with boys.

  His watch showed five minutes until eight. Donovan would be there any minute. Lucas had been hiding in his room since dinner. He knew his parents were both downstairs, waiting to meet the boy who would take their son out on his first date. A gay date. Even though his parents seemed okay with it, Lucas felt awkward bringing another boy to meet them. Especially after the talk with his dad.

  Lucas headed downstairs where he found his parents watching an old episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

  His mom smiled when she saw him. “Ho
ney, you look wonderful.” She walked over and wrapped him in a hug. “He’s gonna love you.”

  His dad paused the show and walked over as well. “Take this in case of an emergency,” he said, reaching into his pocket.

  Lucas tensed. He would die on the spot if his dad handed him a condom.

  “Don’t spend it unless you need it,” his dad said, handing Lucas forty dollars.

  He breathed a sigh of relief before accepting the offering. “Thanks, Dad. I won’t.”

  They stood in the foyer until five past eight, when his dad suggested they wait in the living room. Lucas sat in the chair near the window while his parents resumed their spots on the couch. The television remained paused while they waited.

  At ten past eight, the doubts crept in, and he felt his eyes burn. Was he being stood up? He didn’t think he could handle that again. Not in front of his family. Just when he was about to run upstairs and seek refuge in his room, he heard the car pull up to the house.

  He was so on edge, he nearly jumped out of his seat when his phone buzzed.

  Donovan: i’m outside

  Lucas breathed a sigh of relief.

  Lucas: can you come in for a minute? my parents want to meet you

  Donovan: i don’t do parents

  Lucas: please

  No response came. What was he supposed to tell his parents? His dad already looked annoyed. Thankfully, Lucas heard a car door, and when he looked out the window, he saw Donovan walking up the driveway.

  “He’s here!” Lucas said, jumping up from his seat. “I’ll get the door.”

  He opened the front door and smiled as he watched Donovan approach. He looked amazing. He was wearing a gray, fitted T-shirt with black skinny jeans and a new pair of Doc Martens that had a British flag design across the toe.

  “Hi,” Lucas said. “You look great. I like your boots.”

  “Hey.” Donovan returned his smile.

  He knew better than to expect a compliment in return, but even so, Lucas was hit with a twinge of disappointment. He’d failed to impress Donovan. He’d have to make more of an effort next time. Maybe Trish could take him shopping.

  Lucas led Donovan into the living room, where his parents stood to greet him. “You must be Donovan,” his mother said. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Likewise,” he said with a forced smile.

  His dad held out his hand and said hello. Lucas realized too late that he hadn’t warned Donovan about the handshake. His dad’s pet peeve was a weak handshake.

  “So where are you boys off to tonight?” his dad said, looking at Donovan.

  Lucas was dying to know too. He’d fretted over it all day. He thought maybe Donovan would take him to Rascal’s, the dance club he’d talked about over coffee.

  “A friend of ours is having a party,” Donovan said.

  Lucas’s smile faltered. “A party?”

  “A party?” his dad said. “Whose party?”

  “Alex Goodman. A friend from school.”

  Lucas stiffened. Alex was having a party?

  “Alex Goodman?” his mom said. “Lucas, is that dog walking Alex?”

  Lucas nodded. “Yeah, that’s him.”

  Donovan looked at Lucas and lifted an eyebrow. “‘Dog walking Alex’?”

  “Oh, what a lovely boy,” his mom said. “We know Alex, dear. I’m sure it will be fine.”

  His dad appeared skeptical. “Lucas?”

  Lucas hoped his panic didn’t show on his face.

  His dad surveyed him with an uneasy expression while his mom kept her sights on Donovan. She looked as though she might burst from happiness, while Donovan looked as though he wanted to get the hell out of there.

  “It’s fine, Dad. Don’t worry.”

  “You boys have fun,” his mom said.

  His dad rested a hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “You call if you need anything.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “And be home by midnight.”

  “Okay. Bye!” Lucas hurried toward the door.

  “Well, that was awkward,” Donovan said once they were both outside. “Your parents are weird.”

  “Yeah.” Lucas chuckled.

  His nerves let up as soon as he saw Trish in the car. She climbed into the back to allow Lucas to sit up front with Donovan.

  “Alex is having a party?” Lucas said as Donovan started the car. “Were we invited?”

  Trish laughed. “Don’t worry, Boo. We’re not crashing the party. He invited me a couple days ago.”

  “Are you going alone?”

  “No, I’m going with you, silly.”

  “I know. I meant, do you have a date?”

  “Donovan’s my date. And you’re his date. It’s just a formality, Boo.”

  Just a formality? Did that mean this wasn’t a real date? Lucas didn’t know if he could take this anymore. It hurt too much to get his hopes up only to have them crushed again. He was quiet during the car ride, making a mental list of things Donovan might do that would indicate this was a real date after all: opening the door for him, giving him his undivided attention, holding his hand. He was afraid to hope for any of it.

  Why did Donovan invite him to the party? Lucas hated parties. Especially after what had happened at the last one he attended. He glanced over at Donovan, who seemed completely at ease. Lucas wondered if he was walking into another trap.

  Chapter Nine

  Practical Demonstrations

  THEY had trouble finding a parking spot in front of Alex’s house. Both the driveway and the street were lined with cars.

  “There must be a lot of people here,” Lucas said, fearing a crowd.

  Donovan smirked. “The better to mingle with, my dear.”

  Lucas helped Trish out of the back seat. She leaned into him and said, “Do you think you-know-who will be here?”

  God, he hoped not.

  “You can help me make him jealous if he is,” she said with a flirty smile.

  That would never work, Lucas thought. Who would be jealous of him?

  They made their way to Alex’s front door, where Trish stood fidgeting with her outfit. “How do I look?” she said.

  Donovan stood back. “You look fabulous, T.”

  She turned to Lucas and lifted an eyebrow.

  Lucas smiled, startled into action. “You look fabulous,” he said.

  “Thanks, Boo.” She laughed. “Now ring the bell. I’m freezing my patootie off.”

  Donovan rang the doorbell while Lucas took a deep breath. He was terrified of what might lie on the other side of that door. When it finally swung open, there stood Alex. He looked surprised to see them but ushered them inside with a smile.

  “Hey, Donovan,” Alex said.

  Donovan winked at him. “Hey, yourself, stallion.”

  Lucas glanced between the two of them. Was Donovan flirting with Alex? That wasn’t a good sign.

  Ignoring Donovan’s comment, Alex turned to Trish with a goofy grin. “Thanks for coming. You look great.”

  Finally, Alex turned to Lucas and leaned in for a hug.

  The gesture took Lucas by surprise, and he reacted on instinct, reaching up under Alex’s arms to return the hug. They separated quickly, but even so, Lucas’s heart fluttered.

  “You hug like a girl,” Donovan said.

  Lucas blushed and glanced at the floor.

  Trish elbowed Donovan, who yelped in pain.

  “So what if he does?” Alex said. “Those are my favorite kind.”

  Alex told them to make themselves at home, then excused himself to see to his other guests. Trish wandered off to find drinks, leaving Lucas alone with Donovan, who stood quietly while Lucas busied himself with people-watching. He noted Alex making the rounds to all of his friends, talking to each one briefly, and then moving on. A few of them glanced over at Lucas and Donovan. Were they talking about them?

  Alex caught up with Trish and helped her carry the drinks over. Lucas eyed the red liquid suspiciously before bring
ing it to his nose. It smelled fruity.

  “Cheers,” Alex said, raising his plastic cup in the air.

  “Brassieres,” said Trish as she clinked her cup to his.

  “Sneers,” added Donovan, lifting his cup to meet the others.

  They turned their attention on Lucas, waiting for his contribution to the toast.

  “Uh…,” he stammered.

  He was good at rhyming, but his brain refused to cooperate when put on the spot. What else rhymed with “cheers?” Only one word came to mind: queers. He couldn’t say that. What else? Fears? Tears? He gulped.

  “Uh… chandeliers?” Lucas winced as he hoisted his glass.

  Donovan sniggered.

  “Ooh, I like it,” Trish said. “How glamorous.”

  Alex patted Lucas on the back and laughed. “Sucks to be last, dude.”

  Lucas sipped from his cup to hide his embarrassment.

  Alex turned his attention to Trish. “You coming to the game tomorrow night?”

  She shrugged. “Not really my thing. Good luck, though.”

  “I like watching football,” Donovan interjected. “What position do you play?”

  “Defensive back,” Alex said.

  “No kidding,” Donovan said in a silky voice. “That’s my favorite position.”

  Lucas glanced at Donovan and frowned.

  Trish eyed Donovan suspiciously. “I thought the quarterback was your favorite.”

  Donovan smirked. “I’d rather play with the defensive back. It’s his job to cover the tight end.”

  Alex opened his mouth to say something, then closed it.

  “I used to go out with a football player,” Donovan said. “He taught me all the positions.”

  Lucas turned to Donovan, hoping to grab his attention. “Hey, you know that song, ‘We Are the Champions’? Mrs. Davidson taught me to play it last year. She told me Freddie Mercury was thinking about football when he wrote it.”

  “Freddie Mercury?” Donovan said.

  “Yeah, you know. From Queen,” Lucas said.

  Donovan snorted. “I know who he is. But wasn’t he British? Why would he write a song about football?”

  “Soccer,” Alex said. “They call it ‘football’.”