Foxe Den 2: A Skykler Foxe & Friends Summer Vacation (Skyler Foxe Mysteries)

by Haley Walsh

  “Wow, you guys. That’s outstanding!”

  “I've never seen anything like that,” said Kevin. “But I guess we all felt braver together. And maybe more polite cause of Coach and Mr. Fontana. I think if they weren’t there, it would have just been a swearing war.” He glanced at Alex. “And maybe a fight.”

  “Wow,” said Skyler again. He’d never seen anything like that either. Now he wishd he’d gone with them.

  Keith finally arrived after finding the volleyball again, tucked it under himself, and sat next to Skyler. He was finishing the last of his cone.

  “I understand you saved the day, Coach Fletcher.”

  Tricia was just taking her seat after helping one of the girls with a wardrobe malfunction with her cache of safety pins. “You mean the surfer?” she said. “That’s the most amazing story I ever heard. You’re a real Gandhi, Mr. Fletcher.”

  “I don’t know about that.” His face was a bit red and it wasn’t from the sun.

  “I already posted it to Instagram,” said Heather. She showed Skyler the twenty second video of Keith talking to the surfer.

  “And I posted this,” said Evan. She showed Skyler her phone. It was a picture of him, zinc-white nose, hat, and all.

  “Hey!”

  After the ice cream, they all seemed up for volleyball and Keith was right in the thick of it. God he looked good, all tanned and shiny with sweat, muscles bunching and easing over his frame. He was smiling and laughing, leaving deep grooves in his cheeks. Couldn’t see his eyes under the dark glasses but even in that baggy swimsuit, he looked good.

  Once or twice he turned that smile on Skyler, who melted like an abandoned ice cream cone.

  The sun was moving toward the sea and Skyler finally crept out of the shade to play a little volleyball with the students. Everyone wanted Skyler on their team. He had never felt more popular. He certainly hadn’t been when he was a student, preferring to keep to himself and Sidney; afraid his secret would make him a target. But he was, apparently, a star amongst these kids, and he had to admit, he liked it.

  Meanwhile Ben gathered more wood to light the grill for the chicken that Tricia had brought. They did plan on staying after nightfall, but not too late, what with the hour and a half driving return time.

  Once the chicken was ready and everyone was hungry and feasting, Skyler looked around happily. An arm suddenly slid around him and a deep voice was at his ear. “Look at all you accomplished, babe.”

  “I had help,” he said quietly to Keith.

  Keith shook his head. “No, this is all you. You’re the one who gathered these kids. You’re the one who started the GSA. And look at them. Remember how scared they were at first? And your straight sophomores here, too, as allies. They’re all here because of you, sweetheart.”

  Skyler’s cheeks burned. “I can’t take all the credit.”

  Keith kissed his ear and looked up across the fire ring. “I have to say, I’m pretty proud of O’Connor there.”

  “Yeah, me too. I’m proud of all of them.”

  He gave Skyler’s head another quick kiss and sat back on a beach chair beside him.

  The smoky fire smelled good, like friends and comfort, and the wild streaks of color in the sky from the lowering sun calmed his soul in ways that he couldn’t quite fathom. He was glad Keith was beside him. He couldn’t have asked for a better day.

  “That fire looks good,” said Keith. “I hope you brought the fixin’s for s’mores,”

  “S’mores!” one of them yelled. “S’mores! S’mores!” And then the rest of them took up the chant.

  BEACH PARTY PART II

  RICK SAT BY THE CAMPFIRE, WATCHING THE flames jump and shiver. Alex had his arm around him as if he did it all the time…which he didn’t. Especially in public. But this day must have flipped on a switch in him, because he was being all kinds of affectionate. Alex squeezed him, held him, even nuzzled him. The dark helped.

  Rick inhaled the smoky aromas from the fire and glanced at all the faces glowing from the flames’ light. He squirmed in the cold sand, bunching his jacket about him. Mr. Foxe had been right. It did get cold at night and a bit of wind was mussing his hair. He looked up into the sky but he didn’t see any more stars than at home. City lights were too close, he guessed. It was warmest next to Alex anyway, so he didn’t mind.

  He’d been thinking a lot about what Alex told him back in Palm Springs all those months ago. They hadn’t really talked about it since. How Alex had wanted to bottom. Maybe he wouldn’t like it. Maybe he’d want to be on top after all. But the boy didn’t seem to want to hurry things along. One night when they were alone at Alex’s house, Rick had finally sucked his dick but Alex hadn’t returned the favor. Dude was scared to do anything “gay” even though he was.

  His gaze scanned all the faces around the fire ring. He hadn’t gotten to know some of the other GSA kids very well, but he liked most of them. It was cool of Mr. Foxe to do this for them all. Mr. Foxe was always doing stuff like that.

  Rick was pretty sure he’d never forget his sophomore year.

  And there, across the fire, were his other English Lit homeys; Amber, Heather, and Drew. “Leather” Munson had shown some skin today. Who knew? Damn. That girl was a surprise. He didn’t know she had such a hot body under all that Goth crap. Why did she have to wear that shit anyway? Dog collars, torn fishnets. She looked like a hard night. But today…

  Drew was sitting next to Amber and Lisa. It had been obvious to him at least that Heather had an eye for the guy, but Drew was totally oblivious. Until today. Even now he was snatching glances at her.

  He nudged Alex with his shoulder and the boy looked at him. Alex wore a lazy smile. He was completely relaxed, more so than Rick had ever seen him. It made his heart warm with it. “Come on. My leg is falling asleep.”

  They both got up. Alex took his hand and they walked along the cool sand around the fire ring. He tapped his homeys and Amber looked up, followed by Heather and Drew. He motioned with his head. “Come on.”

  They rose and followed. Didn’t even ask. He loved these guys.

  They stood around under the volleyball net. “What’s up, Rick?” Amber’s eyes were wide with concern.

  “Nothing. Just…thanks for being here. All of you.”

  She grinned and took everyone in. “Our pleasure.” She suddenly frowned. “I’m sad, though, that class is over. I hope we all stay friends.”

  “Of course we will. Won’t we, Alex?”

  Alex stared at everyone as if he had just noticed them. “Yeah. I guess.”

  “I’m taking Mr. Foxe’s composition class next year.” She suddenly brightened. “We all should!”

  “Count me in,” said Heather. “I need it for college prep anyway.”

  “I could, too,” said Rick. He elbowed Alex. “What about you, homey?”

  “Don’t call me that,” he said distractedly. “What do I need college prep for?”

  “Because, dickwad,” said Heather. “You’re going to be a cop, right? You’ll need composition. You’ll have to fill out reports, remember?”

  He leaned back and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I guess so. Okay, okay.”

  Rick slapped the back of his hand to Drew’s chest. “That leaves you, O’Connor. You can’t break up the Five Musketeers.”

  His eyes flicked up toward Heather and then snapped away again. “Yeah, why not?”

  Amber squealed. “Mr. Foxe is such a good teacher.”

  Alex shook his head. “Watson, aren’t you over your crush yet? He doesn’t bat for your team, you know.”

  Amber’s eyes grew wide. “What do you mean?”

  Rick cocked his head. “Amber, it was no secret you were crushing on the guy.”

  “I was not!” she cried, clutching her sweater over her chest.

  “De-ni-al,” Rick sing-songed, looking heavenward.

  Open-mouthed with shock, Amber turned to Heather seemingly for support, but Heather was trying to locate the same star as Ri
ck, apparently.

  She tisked loudly and hunkered down. “You guys don’t know what you’re talking about. I just like him as a teacher.”

  “Whateves,” muttered Rick. “We should do this again, though. If we could get some parents to drive us.”

  They all looked around, thinking.

  Heather cleared her throat. “I could get my older brother, maybe. But his car would only take three of us.”

  “Maybe there’s a bus,” Amber offered. “Maybe the train and a bus.”

  “Now you’re talking,” said Rick.

  “I don’t have money for that shit,” said Alex. They all looked at him. “What? I don’t.”

  “There’s always The Bean,” said Amber. “We could meet there after school and hang out. Mr. Foxe’s friend owns it.”

  “Yeah,” said Alex brightly, surprising Rick. “We met the dude. He’s okay.”

  Amber’s eyes were alight. “You met him?”

  “Yeah. Me and Rick.” He looked at Rick, and Rick looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was listening.

  “Dudes,” said Rick quietly, “don’t tell anyone, but in April, Alex and I snuck to Palm Springs for the White Party.”

  Amber all but raised her hand. “What’s a white party?”

  Alex cut in, surprising Rick again with his openness. “It’s a circuit party for gay dudes. They got ‘em all over the place, but every year they have this one in Palm Springs and you wear white. And there’s one of the parties there where you just wear your underwear!”

  Heather wrinkled her nose. “Really? Did you?”

  “Yeah.” Alex reddened but he plowed on. “And we were dancing. And it was cool because before that, we were at the pool party and some guys bought us some nachos and some other guys got us Cokes and it was sick.”

  Drew ran his hand up over his blond hair. “Dude, you danced in your underwear? And every guy there was in their underwear? Weren’t they…you know.”

  “Weren’t they what?” asked Rick.

  Drew looked hastily back at Heather. He leaned into Rick and whispered in his ear, “Popping one.”

  Rick laughed. “Dude, that’s what we were there for!”

  “What were you there for?” asked a wide-eyed Amber.

  Heather shook her head and tapped her friend’s shoulder. “Amb, you don’t want to know.”

  “Yes I do.”

  “Dude, no you don’t.”

  Amber crossed her arms over her chest. Rick could see the wheels turning in her head and as soon as she could, he knew she’d be Googling “White Party.”

  “So anyway,” said Alex, eager, it seemed, to talk about it at last, “we were dancing and everyone was cool about us being there ’cause I guess they thought we were older but like the youngest ones there. They were nice and no one was hitting on us.”

  “It was like the GSA in a way,” said Rick. “You know what I mean? Like a place for us. A place that didn’t judge and everyone was cool about who you were. Only…well. More intense. Definitely more…sex.”

  “People were having sex?” asked Heather, trying to look casual with her arms hugging her waist. “In public?” she whispered.

  “Dude!” said Alex, shaking his head and laughing. “All over the place. I saw this one guy sucking this other guy behind the stage. And forget trying to get into the bathrooms. Though security was pretty tight and I saw them stop lots of dudes.”

  “What about you two?”

  “Heather!” cried Amber. “You can’t ask them that?”

  Drew laughed.

  “I think I already did,” she said. “So how about it, oh mighty gays? Did you take advantage of the bacchanalia?”

  Alex’s mouth flopped open. “I can’t believe you asked that.”

  Rick smiled. “No comment, Munson.”

  The rest of them “ooohed” while Alex’s face glowed as if he were sunburned.

  “But that wasn’t even the craziest part,” said Rick hurriedly, trying to spare his poor boyfriend. “Then we saw Mr. Foxe and his friends. And he was in his underwear!”

  Amber suddenly looked interested again. “Just his underwear?” she squeaked.

  “Yeah.” Rick postured, weaving his hips. “Little tighty-whities. Defined abs. Mr. Foxe is aight.”

  Heather smacked Amber’s shoulder. “Breathe, Amber.”

  “I’m breathing,” she muttered, blinking rapidly.

  Rick regaled them on their adventures that night, interrupted occasionally by Drew’s snorts of disbelief and Heather’s detailed queries. It was a great story and there were so few people he could actually tell. Well, they were standing in front of him now, he supposed.

  “But you can’t tell anyone. I mean not anyone, amigos. If it gets back to my brother that I took a bus to a gay party in Palm Springs…”

  Heather made a zipping motion with her fingers over her mouth. Drew held up his hand like a Boy Scout, and Amber looked as solemn as he’d ever seen her. Though she was probably still thinking about Mr. Foxe in his underwear.

  Drew leaned against the volleyball net post. “Being gay isn’t just about sex, though, right? In the GSA you guys talk about all kinds of other issues, but outside it, that’s all anyone ever talks about. TV. Politicians. That it’s sex on the brain.”

  “If it was all about sex,” said Rick, “why would gay people fight for the right to get married?”

  They laughed. Heather punched him gently in the arm. “Good one, Flores.”

  “Do you think about sex all the time?” asked Rick.

  “Yeah!” said Drew brightly. But he seemed to remember the female company. “But, uh, that’s a guy thing. Right?”

  Heather chuckled. “And if we’re talking about two guys in a gay relationship, then that must be a lot of thinking about sex.”

  “Don’t girls think about sex?” asked Alex. “I mean, the way they dress and stuff. And all that Twilight shit. And they’re always chasing after guys.”

  Munson suddenly got in his face. “Are you implying that it has anything to do with the way we dress?”

  Alex’s eyes enlarged and he looked at Rick as if to say, “Help!”

  Rick put his arm around Alex and the boy didn’t flinch like he usually did. “First of all, this guy knows nothing about girls, so cut him a break. And second, are you actually telling me that you don’t dress to attract guys? ’Cause if you are, I’m gonna ask about a little black bikini—”

  “Shut up, Flores. It’s just a bathing suit.”

  “Oh yeah. Sure it is.”

  She socked him in the shoulder. It hurt.

  Mr. Foxe called from the fire. “Hey, you guys. We’re packing up and getting ready to go.” Everyone groaned aloud. “I know, but it’s getting late. Make sure you have your stuff together,” he went on. “And grab some of the coolers and chairs.”

  Coach Fletcher was dousing the fire with some of the water from a cooler and some sand. Billows of white smoke twisted skyward.

  Amber and Heather trotted back to the fire. Drew was about to go, too, when Rick stopped him with a hand to his chest. He looked up at Rick curiously. “Hey Drew. When are you going to make a move on Munson?”

  He snapped back as if slapped. “W-what?”

  “Dude, she’s been giving you the eye like forever. I think today you saw that she isn’t all Goth, know what I mean?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “O’Connor,” put in Alex. “You were practically drooling over her.”

  “I was not.” He pushed at Alex, but Alex being a lot heftier never budged.

  “O’Connor, dude,” said Alex, “just talk to her. You guys seem like you’d go together.”

  “I’m not interested in her.”

  Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re always calling me a pussy. Who’s a pussy now?”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Hey,” said Rick. “Remember in the GSA we try to avoid denial. Dude, you’re in denial now. No one’s gonna
make fun of you. Chick’s hot. Even a gay man like me can see that.”

  Drew’s stricken expression was doused with the campfire. He glanced back to where Heather was helping to carry beach blankets to the parking lot.

  Rick pushed him. “Go talk to her.”

  Drew stumbled forward. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Tell her…tell her what a great day it was. Tell her you’d like to ride with her on the way back. And talk.”

  Drew bit his lip. “But…she’s joined at the hip to Amber.”

  “We’ll take care of Amber, won’t we, mi pequeño?”

  Alex stared at him. “Huh?”

  Rick pushed Drew again. “Go talk to her!”

  “Okay! Pushy gays.” He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his hoodie and trudged through the sand, kicking it up as he stalked toward Heather. She was folding down some beach chairs. Rick watched as Drew approached and said something to her. She stopped what she was doing and looked up at him. Lowering the chair to her thigh she looked around casually, chatting back. Then the boy must have asked to ride back with her, because she blushed darkly, eyes searching for Amber.

  “That’s our cue, Alex.” Rick trotted toward Amber. “Hey, Watson. Why don’t you ride back with us in Mr. Foxe’s car?”

  “I can’t. I’ll be with Heather in Mr. Fontana’s.”

  “Well…uh, I think that Drew would rather be with Heather, if you know what I mean.”

  Amber turned her gaze in the direction Rick was looking. Drew was talking intimately with Heather who was leaning up against Ms. Hornbeck’s hatchback trunk. So close that there was no impediment to his leaning even closer to gently kiss her.

  Amber gasped and threw her hand over her mouth.

  “Dude!” said Rick with a laugh. “Way to go, Munson!”

  “Well, that bathing suit certainly worked,” said Amber. Rick snapped his head around to look at her. She threw back her head, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Please! I know you think I’m naïve about this stuff, but I’m not. I helped her buy that bikini. And I’ve been telling her to tone down the Goth for ages because it was holding her back.”