“Good morning, sunshine,” Sarabeth says to me. She took off at two a.m. but looks like she’s had a full night’s rest—hair perfectly smooth, clothes crisp, and a face full of makeup. I don’t even want to know what my crow’s nest of hair looks like.
“Here. You might need these.” Sarabeth hands me a fresh set of clothes and a small tote with an arsenal of toiletries and makeup.
“You’re the best.” I make use of the unisex concrete bathroom. With cold water on my face and the Red Bull kicking in, I’m already starting to feel more alive.
A few minutes later, I emerge from the bathroom looking and feeling a little less homeless. And thanks to Sarabeth, I have clean, comfy jeans that feel like home. “So, how much more do we have to do?” I ask Van through a yawn.
“Float is done. We should clear everybody out. The parade will be starting soon.”
I turn around to see the final product. My breath catches. What took us weeks to prepare, we have redecorated, and rethemed in one night. We, as in my small core of friends, a couple of eccentric art students, a few sci-fi tech geeks, and an outcast redneck or two from the wrong side of the tracks—my new clan of nonconformists. Terrance’s basketball buddies helped with stealing the float, but they took off before we redecorated it. They didn’t want to be a part of the entire scandal. I guess I can understand that.
There was a decent group of people to help out, maybe fifteen of us. I owe every one of them my gratitude. Van and I stand back and admire our handiwork. Thanks to Sarabeth confiscating the leftover supplies from the past years’ school events, we had enough to change the float.
The red barn backdrop of the Grand Ole Opry now shimmers with a colorful hodge-podge of metallic tinsels. Elvis stands proud in the field of purple glitter irises—the only thing we didn’t change. His once infamous white suit the twins took home and fabric-dyed it in an array of colors. All the musical notes on the Graceland gates have been repainted in different colors with matching glitter trim. Then there’s the best part—the gold-painted homecoming king and queen thrones that Sarabeth and I painstakingly covered in clear rhinestones have been spray painted over in rainbow colors.
“Holy pot of gold, Van. It looks like a unicorn puked on the whole thing and made it a giant sparkly rainbow. We done good.” I loop my arms around him in a big fat hug.
Chuck the Buck walks up to check out all our hard work, a rainbow afro springing and swaying on top of his head. “More like the unicorn took a dump.”
“Ew, Chuck.”
“Really?” Van shakes his head.
“Come on, you big dope.” I smack him playfully.
“I’m just saying.” He shrugs, taking a bite of his doughnut.
“Guess we’ve got to get this thing moving.” I exhale a bundle of nerves.
“Not yet, Kaycee.” Chuck releases one of his sharp whistles. It gets everyone’s attention. “Any of you losers come through?” he asks the group.
“Sort of,” a squeaky voice calls. Pipsqueak Harry steps up in his mascot uniform, the giant wildcat head tucked under his arm. The colorful tie-dyed T-shirt over the uniform’s typical jersey is a nice touch. “I heard about what you were doing,” he says, glancing at Van—who obviously let the cat of the bag last week, “so I contacted some local business and told them the seniors were doing a service-learning project on equality to educate kiddos about bullying and hate crimes. And that we rethemed the homecoming parade to “Rainbow of Love” and asked for their Wildcat support. Not everybody was on board with the idea, but I think a couple might support us.” He shrugs with a smile.
I’m stunned into silence. Harry, who gets picked on all the time for his height—or lack thereof—went out of his way to do something for me? All I can do is nod my appreciation.
Misty speaks up, “And hey, we tried to get the school clubs to get with the rainbow program too.”
“But nobody really wanted to help out,” Melissa finishes. “Except for the Art Club. A girl named Kera? Kara? Keira?—something—said she’d do a banner for the Wildcat Wall uptown. Her parents own the pawnshop that it’s painted on. At least it’s something.”
They show me the posters they made for their vehicles: Equality for All, Gay Pride Allies, and It’s Okay If You’re Gay. A few show their support with colorful hair paint, rainbow balloon bouquets, and matching streamers on their trucks. Tawanda tells us how she contacted the primary schools and tried to coordinate a color-themed Equality Day, where each grade level represents a color of the rainbow, but it was too last minute for the school to consider.
“Wow, guys. I don’t even know what to say.” I look at Van, and even he seems a bit awestruck. All those faces stare back, expecting me to be epic or some shit. “I … I didn’t expect this. I don’t have the words to say how much it means to me that y’all—” My tears choke my voice.
“Aw. See that, guys, gay people have feelings too.” Van hugs me.
I shove him away and smile as I dry my eyes.
“Hey, let’s get this show rolling.” LaShell claps her hands, ready. “I told my little sisters to spread the word and vote for the seniors’ float. If they do, we’ll give them the most candy.”
“Oh my gosh … candy. Were you guys able to get candy?” Without candy, we have no chance at accomplishing our goal. We wouldn’t have the votes. It could make or break our win. We could have made our float out of toilet paper and chicken wire, and so long as we still rained down a thunderstorm of candy on the kids, we could’ve won this thing.
Chuck looks at Terrance. “Well?”
All eyes fall on Terrance. You could hear a pin drop for the silence that fills the room. It was a last-minute afterthought at ten thirty last night when we realized, in our thievery, that we forgot to steal the candy we had already purchased for the first float and had stored in Andrew’s shed.
It’s no longer about winning because we’re seniors and it’s our final year. Something bigger is at stake here. It’s hope. Hope that if we make a big enough statement, people in this town will have to start accepting Van and me and every other gay person here for who they are. They will no longer be able to sweep us under the rug.
Terrance sighs a long breath like a deflated tire. “I got four bags.”
I squeeze my eyes shut. “Please tell me you mean four giant black trash bags.”
“Nope.” He picks up the small grocery bags at his feet and drops them on the table.
Hands scramble for the bags, dumping the contents out. There are only a few handfuls of huge movie-theater-size candy boxes and oversized candy bars. I grab a king-size Almond Joy. “Dude, we can’t hurl this out into a crowd of children. We’re talking concussions here. What the heck? Did y’all go to Big Star? Wal-Mart?”
“Last night we went to Big Star, Wal-Mart, Parkman’s Grocery, and every Quick Stop and gas station in Sunshine. We even drove out to the beer store past the county line, and they were cleaned out. Something is up. There’s no way the other classes bought that much candy on such short notice.”
“Dang it,” Sarabeth bursts out, as she flings a candy bar across the table. “That son of a—”
“I was thinking the same thing, Sarabeth,” I say. Everyone looks at us for an explanation. “Andrew. I bet as soon as we left last night, Andrew and his buddies hit every store in town and bought up the last of their candy just to screw us over.” I plop down in the folding chair behind me, plant my elbows on my knees, and bury my face in my hands.
I hear somebody ask how Andrew could do this when he’s a senior too. There’s a brief discussion of what else we can toss to the kids since we don’t have candy. I cringe when someone suggests Mardi Gras beads.
I can’t help but feel that despite having come so far, it will always be like this. No matter where I go or what I do, there will always be naysayers waiting to spread their hate and stop progress. Sure, today we will st
ill make our statement to the town, but winning would have made that statement just a little sweeter. Having to concede this round to Andrew and people like him knots my stomach.
“People,” Chuck the Buck says, banging a fist on the table, getting our attention. “We need to figure this out. We’re not going to win this thing unless we have candy.”
“Did somebody say candy?”
My heart skips a beat. For a second, I tell myself that my mind is playing tricks on me, that there is no way in the world I’ve heard correctly. But when gasps and cheery welcomes begin to spill out, I know it was not the voices in my head. I jump to my feet, but I don’t need to stand to see her. She towers over everyone else.
The few people left move out of the way, and Bren steps up to the table. Her muscles strain from the grocery bags of candy hanging on her arms. She dumps her loot. “There are, like, thirty more bags of the stuff in the trunk of my car.” She motions back over her shoulder with her thumb. Her eyes lift to meet mine. Her smile is reserved, something you might pass off to a stranger on the street.
I glance over at Van. He just shrugs. “I called for reinforcements.” I can’t believe he’s gone and done this. I don’t know if I should punch him or hug him. He and the others go out to Bren’s car to get the candy.
I tell my feet to move and my mouth to speak, but shock and awe keep me still. My heart runs the pony races, pounding my pulse in my ears. I’ve missed her so much, all I want to do is throw my arms around her. I can’t believe she’s standing here in the flesh. All those feelings for her come rushing back. They reaffirm exactly what I’m doing here. Thankfully I don’t need my brain to function because Bren walks up to me.
“Can we go outside and talk?” she asks, inclining her head toward the side door. There’s no warm and fuzzy smile. No soft lilt in her voice, just a straightforward you-and-me-and-words-need-to-be-had kind of tone.
I swallow the brick in my throat and nod my head. This is not going to be pretty. I guess I should be grateful she’s taking this outside, to chew me out in private. When I first saw her a moment ago, for a brief second I allowed myself to think she came back because of me, but no, she came back because Van asked her. And to give me a piece of her mind.
The morning sun blinds me. The metal door closes behind us. Bren stuffs her hands into her jeans pockets as if she needs to corral them before she ends up doing something stupid. The way I figure it, I should speak first before she has her say and leaves.
“I … I … I thought you were in Boston.”
That’s what I say? I haven’t seen Bren in weeks, and the last time I did, I totally dismissed her. This is the best I can do?
She opens her mouth to speak. “I’m sorry,” I blurt out, cutting her off. “I’m so sorry. For everything I said. I just didn’t know how to handle the situation. I didn’t know what to do or what to say. I acted like a little kid who didn’t want to get in trouble again, so crap flew out of my mouth before I could stop it and I—I’m just so, so sorry.”
Bren chews on her lip and stares off to the side. I’m just about to give up when she says, “At the time you said all those things to Sarabeth, I believed them. It hurt to hear it.” Her eyes meet mine. “Because you wouldn’t be the first straight girl to use me to ‘experiment.’”
“But I didn’t, I’m not—”
“Let me finish.”
This whole time she thought I was using her for some heterosexual game? Right now I feel like the lowest life-form on earth. I was too good at my own game of pretending to be something I wasn’t. When it came down to it, she believed my lie too.
“Then all that stuff happened to me and my family, and we left. Once we were settled, I tried to call you, left you messages. So when you never called me back, I assumed it was all true … until you called me this week. I didn’t want to listen to your message. I wanted to delete it, but I couldn’t.” She smiles at herself and shakes her head. “And when I heard your voice and listened to you bouncing all over the place with your apology, I could see you and your wavy hair. I realized how much I missed you.”
My heart stops beating, and I stand before her, grateful. She missed me. All this time, she missed me. The confession from her could not feel any sweeter.
“I should have known you were acting out of fear. I just wish you had called me back. Talked to me. I just needed to talk to you so bad. I don’t understand why you took so long to call me back.”
“Ugh,” I groan, exasperated. “My stupid phone. My stupid freaking phone. I’m such an idiot. I tossed it out the window—it’s a long, pathetic story. Your Instagram disappeared, and I thought you blocked me. Mother locked me off the computer. I had nothing. It doesn’t matter now. I’m glad to see you. I’m so glad you’re here.” The space between us feels like the size of a football field. I tuck my hands in my back pockets to keep from reaching out and touching her.
Bren gives me a crooked smile. It’s the most glorious sight I’ve seen in weeks. I can’t help but grin from ear to ear. “Come here.” Bren stretches her long arms out to me. I take her hand, and with a slight pull from Bren, I’m enveloped in her arms, comforted by ocean and spice. “God, I’ve missed you,” Bren mumbles against the top of my head.
I squeeze her as tightly as I can, not wanting the moment to ever end. Though she may be here now, she will have to return to Boston, sooner or later. “Wait,” I say as I pull myself away from her chest. “How are you here, with your car, if y’all are back in Boston?”
“Mom and I were first, until dad finished up business here. We stayed at my gran’s for like a week. But then we sat down and had a family meeting, and we decided the best place for me to finish high school was Knoxville, and—”
I step back with a mix of shock and excitement. “I’m sorry. Did you say Knoxville? As in Knoxville, Tennessee? As in four-freaking-hours-away-from-Sunshine Knoxville, Tennessee?”
Bren laughs. The sound is low and easy and melts me to the core. “I believe the post office prefers just Knoxville, Tennessee, but yes, that Knoxville.” She smiles. “My parents thought it would be better for us to go ahead and move there, get to know the area, the people, and settle in, especially since I’m going to be a Lady Vol.” Her voice drops to a whisper. “Though technically the UT doesn’t call us that anymore.”
“A University of Tennessee Volunteer? Wait, you got admitted to UT? I thought you got a full ride to Notre Dame.”
“No, I wish. But I got a pretty decent athletic scholarship from UT Knoxville that I couldn’t pass up. That’s why my dad accepted the job in Sunshine to begin with. Not to mention other benefits that might come from living near Sunshine.”
Oh my God, UT Knoxville. Mother and I can’t afford UT—nor do I have the grades to get in—but maybe there’s a community college nearby, and I could stay at the dorms. There are tons of historical sites in and around Knoxville that I could study—Civil War battlegrounds and the Native American Pinson Mounds.
And just like that, the possibilities of my future start to take shape.
Bren weaves her fingers with mine. “And besides, I kind of left my heart in Tennessee, and I was hoping I could visit it sometime.” She pulls my hands behind her back, forcing me forward, right up against her body. Those big brown eyes seem to drink me in. There’s a whole lot of oh please, oh please, oh please pounding in my chest.
Inches from my face, she stops; her eyes scan my features. It takes all my power to keep my breathing at a smooth, even pace. Somehow my memories of how she felt so close did not do the real beauty in front of me justice. Her brows are sculpted into two perfect crescents. The soft peaks of her lips are filled with the most luscious amount of volume. That hair. God, that hair! I want the right to run my fingers through it every day and twice on Sundays. “Man, you are gorgeous.” The words slip involuntarily out of my lips.
She bites her bottom lip to hold back a know
ing smile. I want to smack myself for looking like a drooling puppy too. Bren clears her throat. “Do you think maybe we can try this again? I hear long-distance relationships never work, but maybe we could give it a try. That is … if you’re still into me.”
Oh yeah, community college in Knoxville, hundreds of miles from Sunshine, sounds perfect to me.
My body sways into the curve of hers of its own volition. “Oh yeah … just a little.” My voice is barely a whisper. I part my lips before she even bends to kiss me. Our lips touch, soft and tentative at first but firmer as the lapse of time apart seems to catch up with us all at once. Her hands slip out from mine and wrap around me.
I don’t know how we are going to do this with just weekends and holidays. It sounds more like a child-custody situation than a relationship, but the precious time is worth it. I have no idea even where I’ll go to school next fall, but this, right now, is at least something I can latch on to.
Bren’s grasp tightens and pulls me up right against her body. Um, yeah, this is way better than the nunnery I had planned.
The metal side door opens. “Seriously, people?” Van’s voice stops our kiss, but we just stand there, smiling at each other as if we don’t even notice him. “We’ve got, like, a Gay Pride Parade here we’re trying to set in motion. Make a little small-town history. And you two are out here sucking face. Perfect.”
We stand there, foreheads touching, unconcerned about the world around us. After a moment Bren asks, “He’s not leaving, is he?”
I peer past her shoulder. “Nope.”
“You think if we keep kissing he’ll get the hint and go away?”
“No way. When Van’s not busy being an eavesdrop whore, he’s a Peeping Tom.”
“I can hear you two.”
Bren chuckles against my mouth as she gives me a peck. “I’m not done with you.”
“I hope not.”
South of Sunshine Page 23