Guyliner

by J. Leigh Bailey

  She didn’t cringe in disgust or demand he take his perverted ass home; that was something. But she pinned him in place with a steady gaze. “Why did you ask me out? Were you using me?”

  “No. At least, I didn’t know I was using you. I didn’t even know I was gay, at least not in so many words. It wasn’t like I went out to find a cover. You’re pretty and I like you. It seemed natural to ask you out. And things went so smoothly and there wasn’t any drama. I thought that’s the way it was supposed to be.”

  “So what was last night?” She settled into the couch, angled toward him with her legs tucked under.

  “Last night.” Connor sighed and adjusted the ice pack on his hand. “Last night was the culmination of weeks of frustration and denial. I think I was trying to prove something.”

  “To whom?”

  “I don’t know. To me, to everyone.”

  “Did you prove anything?”

  He slumped in his seat. “Yeah, that I’m an idiot with no tolerance for alcohol and I’d rather kiss some boy in makeup than any girl I’ve ever met.”

  “Have you considered—” Allyson began but stopped when someone knocked at the door.

  “Shit,” Connor muttered, straightening up and combing his hands through his hair.

  “It’s probably Marc.” She walked to the door.

  “What’s he doing here?”

  “I texted him to come over when I was in the kitchen.”

  “What? Why?”

  Like always, Marc made an entrance. “Red,” he declared, walking through the front door, “you do know I’m not always going to be at your beck and call, right?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Connor’s here and needs to talk.”

  “I saw him, like, an hour ago.”

  “Well, he’s here now and needs to talk.”

  “You guys can stop talking about me like I’m not here,” Connor hollered from the living room.

  “Holy shit, dude. What did you do to your hand?”

  Connor lifted the ice pack and looked at his hand. The swelling was down, but the bruising had spread up to the top of his hand. He made a fist to check the range of motion. “I punched something.”

  “Something or someone?” Marc dropped into the chair across from the couch.

  “A metal storage locker.”

  Marc gave a sympathetic wince. “So, you ready to talk now?”

  Connor licked his lips.

  “Connor, you need to tell him. He’s your best friend. He’ll understand.”

  “It’s not that I don’t think he’d understand.” Connor looked at Marc. “That you’d understand. So much is changing. I don’t want things to change.”

  “Things change.” Allyson scooted close and took his uninjured hand in hers.

  “Here’s the thing, Con.” Marc leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “You’ve been acting weird for a couple of months now, angry and moody. To be honest, dude, you’re scaring us.”

  Connor cleared his throat. “Okay. The last couple of months, more if I’m honest, have felt like everything I’ve been working toward was falling apart. The tension with my father was building, I started to realize that I may not be the person I thought I was, and the stress of trying to be that person, it was getting to me. Then I hurt my knee, which messed up another piece of my plan…. Everything was getting twisted. I’m the one who gets things done, the capable and responsible one. If someone needs help, call Connor, the Golden Boy. And then that was all gone.” Once he got started, the words kept coming out. What Graham would call verbal diarrhea. Shit, Graham. His eyes burned at the thought.

  “I broke up with Allyson,” Connor said abruptly.

  Marc’s gaze darted to Allyson. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry?”

  Allyson shook her head. “Tell him why, Connor.”

  “You’re not upset?” Marc asked her. His brows drew down over his dark eyes.

  “I think it’s the right thing.”

  “Okay.” Marc still looked confused. “Why’d you do it, Connor?”

  “I’m still me, you know?”

  “Of course you are.” Allyson tightened her grip on his hand.

  Connor looked Marc dead in the eye. “I need to tell you something, and I need to know it’s not going to change things between us.”

  “Connor, man, whatever it is, I’m your bro. You know that.”

  “I’m… I think… no, I know…. Jesus, why is this so hard? Marc, I’m gay.”

  There was a long pause. Connor started to wonder if Marc had even heard him. Maybe he’d only said it in his head? “You’re shitting me.”

  Connor’s breathing sped up, and his stomach dropped to somewhere below his knees.

  “How long?” Marc asked. Then he glared at Allyson. “Did you know this?”

  “He just told me.”

  Connor’s nerves were screaming at him that he needed to go, get out before Marc said something that was going to destroy him. But he couldn’t move. His muscles were pudding, sloppy and quivering.

  “How long?” Marc pushed.

  His voice had lost most of his emotion. “How long what? How long have I known, or how long have I been gay?”

  Marc tugged on his ear, a gesture he’d had since they were little that showed how bewildered he was. “Either. Both. I don’t know. Pick one.”

  “I guess I’ve been gay forever. I don’t know. I didn’t recognize it, not really. It never really came up before.”

  Marc snorted at the unintentional pun. It was so inappropriate and so perfectly Marc that Connor realized that they were going to be okay. Connor smiled. It was a weak smile, but it eased things in his chest.

  “I’ve suspected for a couple of months.”

  “Oh my God.” Marc reared back. “It’s Parker, isn’t it? You fell for Guyliner. Let me guess, things came up around him, huh?”

  “Marc!” Allyson glared, not the least bit amused.

  Connor ducked his head, a blush working its way up his neck and cheeks.

  “So what, do you guys have something going on?” Marc asked.

  “Sort of. Well, not really. Not anymore at least. I think I fucked things up.”

  “Does he have something to do with the banged-up knuckles?” Allyson reached for the towel-wrapped baggie that now contained ice water and set it on top of a magazine.

  Connor explained what happened and Graham’s ultimatum. Even if Marc looked a little green at the idea of Connor and Graham kissing, he hadn’t completely freaked out yet.

  “Of course he’s pissed.” Allyson crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s awful.”

  “I think Connor is right,” Marc said. “It’s all well and good for Parker to be out and proud. Nobody knows him. Here, well, here people have expectations for Connor Fitzpatrick. They’ve known him since he was a little kid. If it came out that he was gay… I don’t know. I don’t think people would accept it. This is a small town. You’d think Parker would understand that. Besides”—he turned to Connor—“are you sure you’re gay? I mean gay-gay? Or maybe it’s just Parker. Maybe you’re, I don’t know, bi-curious.”

  Connor groaned. “I’m gay, Marc. I may not have consciously thought about it until I met Graham, but I’m completely gay.”

  “Dude, you haven’t been, like, watching me in the locker room or anything, have you? ’Cause that would be weird. I’m just saying.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” Allyson snapped. “Just because he’s gay doesn’t mean he’s suddenly going to attack every boy he sees. Are you tempted to jump every girl you see on a daily basis?”

  Marc shot her a wicked look. “Yeah, pretty much.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re such a pig.”

  Connor burst into laughter. Within moments, Allyson and Marc joined in. He really did have the best friends.

  “What are you going to do about Graham?” Allyson asked when their laughter died down.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think I can do what he wants.”<
br />
  “I guess you have to decide how badly you want him. How much is he worth to you?” She stood up and kissed his cheek. “I do know you owe him a huge apology. And if you do decide that you’re not ashamed to be seen with him, the apology better be spectacular.”

  “So we’re good?” Connor looked from Marc to Allyson. “You’re okay with this?”

  “Connor, you stood by me when I had to take those classes when I found out I have dyslexia, in sixth grade. You stood up for me when people called me ‘Special Ed.’ We’re friends. We stick by each other. Now enough of this sappy shit. If we delve into all of this girly emotional stuff, we’ll have to break out the tampons.”

  “Marco Vicente Delgado! You did not just say that!” Allyson swatted Marc’s shoulder.

  Marc and Connor laughed. Clearly some things, like Marc trying to get a rise out of Allyson, weren’t going to change.

  Chapter 34

  THAT NIGHT at dinner, Connor watched his family. Talking to his friends had lifted a huge weight off his shoulders. The entire burden wasn’t gone, but the whole load was a little easier to bear. Could he tell his family? Would they accept him? Would they disown him? He figured his mom would be cool. She was a crusader for equality, opportunity, and community. She loved and accepted everyone equally. He thought about what Graham and his parents had gone through. Could he risk something like that happening to him, forcing Mom to live that nightmare?

  Becca caught his gaze and smiled a soft, understanding smile. Yeah, he could count on Becca. She had their mother’s heart and their father’s determination. She’d stand by him through anything short of murder. She knew Graham was gay, and it didn’t seem to matter to her.

  The boys might be an issue. They’d give him a hard time, but ultimately they’d be okay. Unless they got teased at school because of him. Kids could be mean, and a gay brother would give them a perfect reason to hassle his brothers. Abby was only three, so it wouldn’t mean anything to her. But Dad was the big question mark.

  Dad could be a prick sometimes, but had Connor ever heard him mention his views on homosexuality? Did it matter?

  Was he really considering telling them?

  He looked at his plate of spaghetti, his appetite gone. “May I be excused?” He set his fork down.

  His mom peered at him. He wanted to squirm under her close inspection. Finally she said, “Are you all right?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, just tired. I’m going to lay down for a bit.”

  He gripped his plate in one hand and, using only one of his crutches, managed to make it to the kitchen without spilling anything. Neither his mom nor Becca had jumped up to take it for him. They must have picked up on his mood. He took the plate to the sink and shoveled the contents into the garbage disposal. If only it was as easy to get rid of the excess doubt and insecurities as it was the pasta.

  He stretched out across his bed when he reached his room. He listened to the muted sounds of dinner conversation and the clang of cutlery against plates, and tried to empty his mind of everything but the decision he needed to make. Soon the dining room noises were replaced by the sound of water running for dishes and the canned laughter from a sitcom rerun on television, and he was no closer to a decision.

  A soft knock at the door interrupted his unproductive thoughts.

  The door cracked open, and Becca peeked through the gap. “Hey, Connor, can I come in?”

  Connor scooted up on the bed, resting his back against the headboard. “Yeah, sure.”

  Becca shut the door behind her and settled in at the foot of the bed. “So,” she said, tucking a strand of wavy hair behind her ear, “I thought we should talk.”

  “About what?” Though he kept his voice neutral, his insides were a quivering mess.

  “About what’s going on with you.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” The denial was automatic. He could tell by her rolled eyes and the disbelieving snort that she didn’t buy it.

  “Why don’t you tell me about the picture?”

  Connor rubbed his hands over his face and continued the movement until they’d raked through his hair. “I figured you hadn’t seen it since you didn’t say anything.”

  “It is you and Graham, isn’t it?” There was no disapproval or disgust in her voice, only a calm understanding that soothed his soul like aloe on a sunburn.

  He swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

  “So, are you guys, like, dating?” Becca brought a swatch of hair over her shoulder and began to idly braid three strands. There was something so normal about it Connor relaxed.

  “No.”

  “But you are gay, right?”

  Connor looked at her from under his lashes. Here goes nothing. “Yeah.”

  She nodded and selected another three strands of hair to braid. “Does anyone know? I mean, have you told anyone?”

  “I talked to Marc and Allyson about it this afternoon.”

  Her hands stilled. “How’d they take it?”

  “Pretty well, actually. Marc was a little shocked at first, but once that wore off, he was cool about it.”

  “And Allyson?”

  Connor shook his head, still a little awed by Allyson’s reaction. “She was great. I mean, really great. She didn’t yell at me or judge me or anything. Didn’t bat an eye, not even when I broke up with her.”

  “You broke up with her?”

  “Well, I couldn’t keep dating her. That wouldn’t be fair.” He pulled his pillow out from under his hip and used it to cushion his back against the wall.

  “I guess that’s true.”

  Connor twined his fingers together and stared at the scraped knuckles on his hand.

  Becca braided another trio of blonde strands.

  “Connor?”

  He looked up. “Yeah?”

  “Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”

  With those words, his heart beat faster and tried to dive into his bladder. “Yeah. Someday. I mean, I have to, right? I can’t not tell them. Right?”

  “Yes, you have to tell them. They need to know. And I think you need to be able to tell them.” Becca squeezed his hand and released it, punctuating her statement.

  “What if I can’t?”

  “Well, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  Was she serious? She couldn’t be that naive. “Oh, I don’t know. They could kick me out of the house, ignore me for the rest of my life, try and send me to some kind of reconditioning camp.”

  She glared at him. “I know you don’t really think they’d do that. I mean, come on. Have you met our mother? She’s not going to turn on you.”

  “Yeah, okay, Mom would probably be okay.”

  “You’re worried about Dad, aren’t you?” Becca asked when he fell silent.

  He nodded and began to play with one of the Velcro straps on his brace. Rip. Stick. Rip. Becca reached over and stilled the movements. “I really don’t think he’d care.”

  Connor snorted. “Right.”

  “Okay, he’d care, but I don’t think he’d have the reaction you’re afraid of.”

  “Becca, I’m already doing everything I can think of to make him happy, to make him proud of me. And he’s still on my case about everything. Do you honestly think finding out I’m into other guys is going to help? It’ll be one more way I’m a disappointment to him.”

  “So what’s the alternative? Are you going to keep pretending? Faking it to the rest of the world?”

  “If I have to. Becca, you have no idea what could happen if people actually knew I was gay. I don’t think I can go through that. I don’t think I can put the family through that. So, yeah, I’ll keep pretending if I have to. It’s not only about me, though. Do you have any idea what people will say to you, Kaleb, and Kory?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be stupid. You don’t think we can handle a couple of assholes?”

  “It’s not fair for you guys to have to deal with my issues.”

  “Please, 90 percent of the schoo
l won’t care, and most of the rest won’t have the guts to do or say anything about it. And I dare anyone to say anything to me. By the time I was done with them, they’d wish they’d kept their mouths shut.”

  There was a fierce gleam in her eye that told him she meant it. He tugged her hair the way he used to when they were younger. “I know you’ve got my back, but I’d rather you weren’t put into that position. So I’ll keep my personal stuff to myself.”

  Becca let out a gusty sigh. “You are so stubborn.” She stood up and leaned down to hug him. “I love you, big brother. I want you to be happy and I don’t think you are. I also don’t think you’re giving Dad enough credit. When you tell him and Mom, I’ll be there if you want. I do have your back, no matter what.”

  His throat closed, and he had to fight back the tears that prickled at his eyes. “Thank you,” he said roughly. “Love you too.”

  When he was alone again, he couldn’t help but think about what she said. He didn’t know what he’d do about people at school, but maybe, just maybe, he’d talk to his parents about it. But not yet. It was too new, too raw. Soon, though.

  Chapter 35

  IT WAS a scene out of a nightmare. No monsters, but Connor would have preferred that to what he walked into Monday morning. Instead it resembled those dreams where he wandered through the halls in his underwear. Except this wasn’t a dream. He wasn’t naked, but that wasn’t nearly as reassuring as it should have been. If Connor thought people stared at him when the picture of him and Graham kissing showed up online, it paled in comparison to the looks he got this morning.

  No wonder either.

  At first he’d thought the pieces of paper taped to lockers were identifying students who’d be honored at the evening’s sports awards banquet. But instead, the hallway was decorated with pictures of Connor and Graham dancing and kissing. The image quality wasn’t that great, but there was no denying who it was. On some of the images, a big, sloppy heart framed the picture with the words Golden Boy + Guyliner written in thick black.

  “Who?” He spun around, taking in the staring students. The hallway wasn’t full since it was still half an hour before the first bell would ring. No one said anything. All giggling and murmuring stopped when he walked in.