Strings Attached

by Nick Nolan

  The class had not yet filled up, so Jeremy walked to the back and stood awkwardly as all but two of the desks were claimed by noisy students returning from lunch. He looked around and noticed that the boy in the front left corner was the same one who’d peeked at him in Geometry.

  He fit the picture the girls had painted.

  Ms. Lessner stood from behind her desk, and the room hushed. “We’ll be having the test on biomes tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be assigning one to each of you randomly. You’ll be required to state the regions, including latitude, in which yours may be found, an extensive list of the flora and fauna, the temperature range and average rainfall for each season, and any other distinguishing features. The test will be a combination of fill-in and essay. Today will be review, so I suggest you use your notes and quiz each other. Are there any questions?”

  The class erupted into a sea of raised hands and note-scribbling while Jeremy leaned back in his chair; after all, no teacher would make a brand-new student take a test on his second day. He began planning what he might dress as for the party. A baseball player? A hippie? A vampire? Pinocchio?

  “Mr. Tyler, I don’t see you writing anything down. Is there something wrong?” She had crept up behind him.

  “You mean I have to take the test?”

  “Of course.”

  “But I…”

  She cut him off. “Is there anyone in the class who might be willing to share their notes with our new student?”

  No hand went up.

  “Then I’ll pick someone.” She gave the room a quick scan. “Carlo, would you be willing?”

  “I hear he’s always willing,” someone stage-whispered. Those around him giggled.

  Carlo ignored the comment and nodded at Ms. Lessner.

  “Thank you, Mr. Martinez. Your cooperation is noted.”

  The boy turned and grinned at him. Jeremy nodded back.

  The class continued reviewing until the bell rang. Jeremy stood up, giddy that he’d made it through his first day. He pulled his book bag over his shoulder and then looked around for Carlo, who was already outside waiting. Jeremy went to him.

  “Hey, I’m Carlo.”

  “Thanks for lending me your notes.” They shook hands. He tried not to smile or look too friendly; he didn’t want to give the wrong impression.

  “Well, here’s the thing,” Carlo began. “I can’t really lend them to you because I need to study them tonight, and I could Xerox them, but the machine in the library’s been down for a week.”

  “Oh, man. What can I do?”

  “I could scan them and e-mail them to you when I get home.”

  “I’m not online yet; I just moved here a couple days ago.”

  “Then I guess you could study over at my place.”

  “I don’t have my license. Jesus, I’m sorry to be such a pain.”

  “Then I’ll come by your place…if it’s OK.”

  Jeremy couldn’t think of why it wouldn’t be OK. “Sure.”

  “Here. Write your address and phone on this…” he handed Jeremy a paper from his pocket “…and take mine.” His information was already scribbled on the paper. “I’ll come by about seven. We can either stay at your house or go out for coffee. There’s a great little place down near Trancas.”

  A first date? No thanks.

  “We’ve got lots of room at my house,” Jeremy said. “And thanks for your help.”

  “Hey, it helps me to study with someone too. So I’ll see you at seven?”

  “Yeah, see ya.”

  Jeremy smiled down at his new shoes thinking Carlo seemed friendly and honest, like someone he could talk to and be himself around. So what if some of the others made jokes about him? After all, if Ellie and Reed were friends with him, he couldn’t be a total geek.

  He turned and jogged toward his Spanish class, which would start any second. And he thought, I’ve got so much to tell Arthur.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I hear you’re going to be taking over my beloved Rover,” Arthur grumbled as they sped down the highway toward home.

  “Mine, all mine,” the boy gloated, running his hands over the walnut dashboard and ebony leather seats. He reached over and turned the radio up, then shoved his hands up and out of the open sunroof. “Wheeeee!”

  “I’m glad to see you enjoying yourself at my expense,” the man shouted, snapping off the radio. “Now I’m going to have to run errands for your family in my dreadful Taurus.”

  “I’m happy you’re glad.”

  “Don’t get sassy with me, young man. Someone still needs to teach you how to drive this behemoth, and I don’t really see your aunt or uncle doing it anytime soon. Or your mother, for that matter.”

  “Ouch. OK, I’ll stop. It’s just that this has been the best day, Arthur. I mean, I was dreading everything, and everything turned out OK.”

  “That’s great. I’m happy for you. Later on I want you to tell me all about it.” He hesitated. “But in the meantime, I need to talk to you about something before we get home.”

  “Oh God, what?”

  “Your mother called today. I overheard your aunt on the phone with her.”

  Fear stabbed his belly. “So what were they talking about?”

  “I can’t say…obviously she wanted to keep the conversation private. But I did hear the words ‘attorneys’ and ‘restraining order’ mentioned.”

  “Shit! Just when I start to get something good happening, she comes along and fucks it up! I should’ve known better than to think things would change.”

  “Jeremy, don’t get ahead of yourself,” said Arthur. “You have no idea what’s going on, so you should ask your aunt. Tell her I told you she called and you want to know what’s happening. You’ve got a right to know. Things are going on right now that’ll affect the rest of your life.”

  “No way, Arthur.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to know. What’s gonna happen will happen anyway. I’m only seventeen, so I don’t have any control over my life. I’m just going to enjoy this for as long as I can—even if it’s only until next week.”

  “Are you sure you don’t want to know?” he asked, glancing his way. “Maybe it’s not what you think.”

  “Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied, folding his arms across his chest. He figured she’d checked herself out of rehab and wanted him back home; it was likely that she’d forgotten that they didn’t have a place to live anymore. Or she was threatening to live here in Ballena Beach, which would explain the talk of “restraining orders.” Either way, she was back in the picture, and the thought made him want to open the door and hurl himself out of the moving car. He turned to the window so Arthur wouldn’t see the tear burn down his cheek. “Nothing’s ever going to change for me.”

  “Well, it’s your decision. Just know that I’m here to help in any way that I can.” He smiled, placed a hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. “You’ve got to have faith that everything will turn out for the best. And believe me, you can trust your aunt to do what’s right for you.”

  “I don’t trust anyone.”

  “I can’t say that I blame you,” he said as they crept to the stoplight at the Porto Marina bridge and stopped. Arthur looked at him squarely. “But there are a couple of trustworthy people around here who really do care about what happens to you. Not everyone is as unreliable as your mother has been, at least in the past.”

  He ignored the encouragement. “What’m I gonna do if she makes me go with her?”

  “For one thing, you’re assuming things about their conversation. But even if you had to leave, you would just make the best of it until you turn eighteen, then you’ll come back to Ballena Beach if it’s what you still want.”

  The light turned green, and they lurched forward.

  “But I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “I know it sounds crazy, Arthur, but if she’s out of rehab, then she’s going to need my help, especially if…I mean when she has another relapse
. I can’t just leave her all alone. She’s my mother. She’ll die without me.”

  Arthur nodded. “Then you need to do all the living and growing and laughing you can in the meantime. Speaking of which, why don’t you tell me about your day? Did you make any new friends?”

  “Well, kind of. This one girl’s named Ellie and the other’s named Reed. They’re nice. I like them. In fact, they’re having a Halloween party this weekend and invited me.”

  “Good! You need to get out. Did you meet anyone else?”

  “Yeah, this asshole guy named Coby and this nice guy named Carlo. I’m going to study tonight with him.”

  “You’re going to study with the ‘asshole’?”

  “No, with Carlo.”

  “Of course. And what’s he like, this Carlo?”

  “He’s nice, I guess.”

  “How descriptive. And how were your teachers?”

  “Fine, I guess. Arthur, can I tell you about all this later? I just don’t feel like talking right now, if it’s OK.”

  “I understand.”

  “Oh! I almost forgot.” He pulled his wrinkled schedule out of his pants pocket. “I have swim team tryouts first thing in the morning, and I have to be there by seven. Could you take me?”

  “I guess. With your swimming, I suppose it’ll be a good thing for you to have your own car after all. Plan on going with me to the DMV tomorrow after school to get your learner’s permit.”

  “You mean you’ll start teaching me to drive?” he asked, beaming.

  “Yes, Jeremy. I’ll teach you.” He considered what a tragedy it was that this boy’s father wasn’t here to guide him along the road to manhood, a road Jeremy had apparently grown accustomed to maneuvering with his mother’s hands over his eyes. “I’ll help you with everything I possibly can.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  He emerged from the shower dripping wet footprints on the carpet in his bedroom as an insistent buzzer sounded, followed by his aunt’s teeny electronic voice. “Jeremy, dear, there’s a young gentleman waiting for you downstairs in the foyer.”

  He clutched a towel in front of his nakedness as he leapt to answer. “I’ll be there in a second,” he yelled while stabbing the button with his finger. He checked the clock on the nightstand. Carlo was early.

  He pulled on a T-shirt, some shorts, and socks, grabbed his book bag, then bounded down the flying staircase to where his classmate sat looking around nervously on a gilded settee, his tattered backpack on the marble floor beside his well-worn tennis shoes. At Jeremy’s descent, Carlo’s face blossomed into a grin.

  “Hey, Carlo. Thanks for coming over,” he announced, his wet hair falling into his eyes as he jumped onto the floor from the third step up. He reckoned that he might be starting to look the part of the carefree rich kid, and the thought made him woozy.

  “Hi, Jeremy. What a great house you have. It’s really beautiful.” His voice was softer and more feminine than he’d remembered at school, and he had dragged out the words “really beautiful.” So Coby had been right after all. He hoped no one else in the house, especially his aunt, had overheard his new friend’s telling delivery.

  “Thanks. I’m still pretty much getting used to it myself; half the time I’m not sure which room is which.”

  “Yeah, well I don’t really have that problem at my house,” he laughed, grabbing his backpack and standing. “By the way, my sister Carmen says hi. She wanted a report on how your hair looks, and I told her it’s fab. So, where can we study?”

  “Uh, anywhere, I guess.” He paused, not wanting to suggest his bedroom. “We can use the conservatory.”

  The boys made their way through the labyrinth of sumptuous rooms while Carlo gave the rundown on Jeremy’s stable of teachers, as well as the various groups and cliques on campus and their rank within the school’s pecking order.

  At last they came to their destination. Jeremy threw open the twin glass doors and motioned toward one of the wicker armchairs. Carlo fell into the chaise instead. “What a wild room this is!” the boy exclaimed, his head swiveling as he surveyed the exotic vegetation, the baronial chandelier, and the mossy, trickling fountain. “It’s right out of a horror movie. God, if I had a place like this to go to, I’d never leave it.” His eyes twinkled. “When can I move in?”

  “Maybe when I move out, which might be sooner than I thought,” he replied sourly, surprised at his own disclosure.

  “What do you mean?” Carlo’s dark eyebrows knitted fiercely together. “You just moved here.”

  “It’s nothing for sure yet. I’ll let you in on the details some other time.” He shook his head. “So…I guess we should start at the beginning of the test material.”

  “Oh. Just a sec, let me find my notes. By the way, I can’t believe Ms. Lessner is making you take this test on your second day.” He unzipped his pack and pulled out a bulging green notebook, then pawed rapidly through the stack of pages. “Here it is: biomes.”

  Jeremy fished for a pencil. “Biomes.”

  For the next couple of hours, Carlo read and Jeremy listened intently while scribbling facts and terminology, until his hand was nearly cramped into a claw.

  “That’s it?” Jeremy asked, eyebrows raised.

  “Yep, but now you’ve gotta memorize everything.” He yawned, flexing his swollen biceps back over his head, his shirt riding up to expose a strip of lean brown abdomen. “If you wanted, I could stay for a while more and test you.”

  “Let’s take a break first,” he suggested, avoiding Carlo’s stare. “So…what can you tell me about Ellie and Reed?”

  “Oh, they’re crazy and gorgeous, and they’re my best girlfriends. I’ll tell you anything you want to know…but first let’s talk about you.” He kicked off his shoes and tucked his legs up under himself.

  “There’s not much to know.”

  “That’s not what my sister said.” He grinned salaciously, cocking an eyebrow. “But why don’t you tell me why you’re here? I’d rather it come from your mouth than hers.”

  “My mom had to go into the hospital for a while, so I came here to finish high school. That’s it.”

  “Jesus, I’m sorry.” His manner softened, the bravado extinguished. “I guess she must be pretty sick. She doesn’t have cancer, does she?”

  “No, no. Nothing like that.” He shook his head thinking that cancer would probably be easier to deal with.

  “That’s good to hear,” he said. “My mom died of cancer last year, right about this same time. It was horrible—the surgeries, the chemo, the tests. She’d be in the hospital for a while, then get out, and things would get back to normal, then a month or so later she’d be in so much pain she couldn’t get out of bed again.” He turned away, almost talking to himself. “I still jump every time the phone rings. But I guess I’m doing OK now and so is Carmen, but my dad’ll never be the same.”

  “Oh, man. I’m sorry,” was what he said, when actually he was relieved to learn of another’s tragedy. That another boy his age had tasted a slice of the same miserable pie he’d eaten all his life gave him hope that his isolation might be ending. He felt like dancing. “Yeah, let’s take a walk down by the cliff,” he suggested brightly. “I don’t know about you, but I could use some air.”

  They left the conservatory and strolled shoulder to shoulder along the pathway that connected the west wing to the gazebo. A gentle breeze swirled around them, and the thunder of waves filled the air. Neither spoke.

  “I’ve always loved being by the ocean,” Carlo said finally. “I don’t care if it’s sunny or foggy, summer or winter.”

  “Yeah, me too. It would be nice even to just walk around here sometime by myself and get things straight in my head. But I haven’t had time yet.”

  “Maybe you should take that walk with someone who could listen; I think it really helps when something’s bugging you.”

  “My problems are so boring. I’d have to force someone to listen to me.”

  “You wouldn’
t have to force me,” Carlo offered. “As long as we could take turns boring each other.”

  “Thanks, but I’m kind of used to going through everything by myself.”

  “I know how you feel. It’s like…when you figure out you’re gay and you think you’re the only one in the world. It took me nearly two years before I could tell anyone. Of course, Carmen knew before I even said anything. She’s got the best gaydar in the world. Maybe because she works in a salon,” he laughed. “She could even tell about you right off.”

  “About me what?” Jeremy asked defensively.

  “About you being gay?”

  “But I’m not.”

  “Oh.” He cleared his throat and shifted his stance, stuffing down his disappointment. “Jesus, Jeremy, I’m sorry. I just thought…”

  “It’s OK. You and your sister aren’t the first to think so.”

  “That’s good, I guess.”

  “Let me ask you something, but I want you to tell me the truth.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “So what is it about me…that makes people think I’m gay?”

  Carlo sighed. How could he restate the obvious? “It’s probably a combination of things.” He nodded. “But don’t take that to say that you lisp and swish and say ‘fabulous’ all the time.”

  “But neither do you.”

  “I can, believe me, but only when I want to girl it up.” He giggled and then crossed his arms across his chest. “For one thing, you’re a really…cute guy, but in a quiet way. Most straight boys as good-looking as you are totally gross, strutting around talking about ‘pussy’ and ‘titties.’ You also dress well. I mean, what straight guy wears those shoes you had on today with khakis to high school? And from what I can tell, you have a nice bod; your lats show through that Mormon-looking shirt you had on earlier,” he laughed. “And, of course, you have the most excellent haircut.”

  “Is that all?” Jeremy was relieved that most of the exterior items on the list were either Arthur’s or his aunt’s doing, and most were exchangeable. And he figured he didn’t mind the observations about his body.