by John Goode
“Have to be other teachers out there who will help.”
He stopped walking. “You’re pretty gung ho about something you didn’t even know word one about an hour ago.” He wasn’t mad, but he was curious.
I knew what he meant, so I stopped walking. “Look, you think this is important, so it is important. I didn’t do a thing to help you with Kelly, and that was a mistake, one I am not making again.” My voice cracked, as it usually did when I brought up Kelly. No one but Kyle had seen the danger in what was happening to him. I had sworn to myself that I wouldn’t let him be the only one again.
I didn’t tell him, but I wasn’t going to give up on this. So after school, I went with plan B.
“Me?” Tyler paused and looked at me for a second. I nodded as I pulled another handful of Dallas Cowboys towels out of a box and began to place them on the shelves. “But I’m not a teacher. How can I do it?”
“Well, you’re not a teacher yet, but I bet if you asked Coach Gunn, he would sign you up as an assistant coach or something. I mean, you’ve played college ball—that kind of experience has to be worth something.”
“Well, it was barely one year of college ball, and it does count for something. Not enough to get me a degree in education or sports management, which I would need to be an assistant coach.” I could tell by the tone in his voice he thought I was only half-serious.
That was his mistake.
“But how many credits are you shy an associate’s? I bet if you started at community college, Gunn would hire you on in a second.”
He paused what he was doing and looked over at me seriously. “Now you have me going back to school? And who will be taking care of the store between me going to school and coaching?”
Hmmm, I hadn’t thought that far ahead.
“What about Matt?” I offered. Tyler and Matt had been dating since New Year’s, and though it wasn’t serious, I thought it would be enough to ask Matt to hold down the store while Tyler came to school and made everything better somehow.
He laughed and shook his head. “One, he has a job. Two, I don’t want to be a coach. And three, you know, even if I did do all of that, there’s still a huge chance that they’d say no.”
Sighing, I nodded and kept putting the towels away. “I know, but Kyle wants this so bad, and I feel fucking useless.”
“You’re not useless,” Tyler assured me. “It just means it’s going to take a little more thinking is all.”
“Like I said,” I muttered, tossing the last of the towels on the shelf, “useless.”
When it came to thinking, I was a bit out of my comfort zone. After all, my claim to fame was being able to hit a little white ball 205 feet over the back fence more often than most guys. There wasn’t a lot of thinking in that job. But I wasn’t going to let Kyle down again.
“You do know just being there for him is enough, right?”
I tried not to look at him like a complete idiot, but I’m pretty sure I screwed that up. “You do know that sooner or later he is going to realize he’s been doing all this on his own and find someone who can walk and chew gum at the same time?”
He gave me that sympathetic face that adults give when they are lying their asses off. “You’re not dumb, Brad.”
“This is coming from a guy who is, like, fortysomething and is just now dating his first serious boyfriend?”
He shot me a look and asked, “What does that have to do with anything?”
I shook my head and slapped a set of golf tees on the shelf. “It means you might not be the best guy to judge if other people are smart or not.”
He crumpled up the piece of paper he had been going over and threw it at me, but he didn’t disagree with me. Suddenly his expression changed.
“You know, I heard of a club like that back when I was your age.”
I tried not to gape at him. “What? Where?”
“There were rumors there was some gay club at Foster. I mean, it could have just been talk. You know how bad the two schools talk about each other behind their backs. For all I knew, Granada said there was a dungeon under Foster where we locked up anyone who dared to root for the wrong team or something. I just remember hearing that there was supposed to be a gay club at Foster and that it ended up getting shut down, and someone almost got fired. I wouldn’t even remember, but at the time I was scared that my name would somehow get attached to it because I was curious to go see what it was about.”
That sounded crazy even for this town, but Tyler wouldn’t make something like that up.
THE NEXT day there was no practice, a sure sign the faculty didn’t think we were over Kelly’s death yet. Kyle was out somewhere with Jennifer, which meant when I was done at Tyler’s, I had some time to myself.
Time for Plan C.
I sat in my car for about ten minutes trying to think of a better Plan C than the one I had, but nothing came to mind. There were so many reasons I did not want to have to rely on Plan C. Then I thought of Kyle busting his ass for the rest of us and told myself to suck it up.
I drove up First Street and turned onto East Avenue like I was going to Kyle’s house. Maybe I could just go to Kyle’s house… no, I couldn’t….
I stopped a couple of blocks up and pulled in to the parking lot for Twice Upon a Time.
Robbie was a person I’d barely ever talked to, but for some reason, I didn’t like him.
I had “met” him when I was dating Jennifer, since she practically lived at his shop. Robbie was loud, flamboyant, and above all else, stereotypically “gay.” I admit it was a shitty attitude to have, but guys who didn’t act like guys drove me fucking crazy.
He had made a few smart-ass comments about me when I’d come into the store with Jennifer. I hadn’t really heard them because I was too busy biting the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying something ugly about him and his place.
Sighing, I got out of my car and walked inside. Some show tune garbage being blasted at a speaker-shattering level smashed into my eardrums the minute I opened the door. Robbie’s back was to me, and his concentration was focused on the rack of clothes he was sorting. I didn’t even think he heard me come in. I called his name, but the music drowned me out. I took a deep breath and roared, “Hey!”
He let out half a shriek and spun around to face me, brandishing the blue plastic hanger he clutched like a sword. “What the fuck!” he yelled at me. “Who just yells at people?”
I pointed upward to the speakers. “It helps if you can hear people trying to talk to you.”
He pulled a remote out of his pocket and lowered the music. “Kyle isn’t here,” he said, stuffing it back into his pocket.
I opened my mouth to say something but paused. “I know. Why would you think I was here looking for him?”
He put the hanger up and moved toward the counter. “Well, in the entire time I’ve owned this place, you’ve been in three times. Twice with Jennifer, during which you gave me dirty looks the entire time, and once to pick up Kyle, during which you barely acknowledged my existence. I don’t see your ex-girlfriend dragging you in here, which leaves your boyfriend. Who isn’t here,” he added.
“I know he isn’t here,” I snapped at him. “I know where my boyfriend is.” I have no idea why I said that, but it seemed like the right thing to say.
“Well, bully for you,” he said, sitting down behind the counter. “So now what? You pledging a frat or something? Because I know for a fact there is no way you would ever wear anything that was second hand.”
I began to say something again and then stopped. Again he was right, but for some reason the statement pissed me off. “Why do you say that?”
He had pulled a book out from under the counter and was about to open it when he gave me a withering glance. “Well, because every single piece of clothing you have on now has an A&F or an eagle on it somewhere. Which is impressive, by the way, since the closest store is at least a hundred miles away. You shop online, or mommy and daddy make road tr
ips for you?”
I want to point out a few things before I go all ballistic on this guy.
One, it isn’t a crime to like nice clothes. Two, I happen to like the clothes they sell at A&F, and I get an allowance every few months to order stuff online. Three, the idea of wearing clothes that other people have already worn gives me the creeps, because all I can imagine is a bunch of other people’s bugs wandering all over me. And four, what I liked to wear was none of this guy’s business.
“What’s your problem?” I asked him, walking toward the counter.
He closed his book and folded his hands on top of it. “Are you serious?” When I didn’t answer, he rolled his eyes at me and muttered to himself, “This boy cannot be real.”
“Yeah, I’m serious. Why are you being such a dick to me?”
He took a deep breath and let me have it. “Um, maybe because you’ve given me attitude since day one for no other reason than you’re a self-loathing douche bag who is so scared of people not liking him that even now you’re pitching a fit because someone is saying they might not like him. Even if that person is someone you can’t stand, like me.”
I really didn’t like that he had a point.
“But putting that aside,” he said, moving the book as an example of the metaphor, “the real problem I have with you is that you are so taken with yourself that you just take for granted people doing good things for you. God forbid you should thank them or even be grateful, not Little Lord Bradley Fauntleroy. Instead you should just go on with whatever issues you have in your own mind because they’re more important than anything someone else might say or do.”
“You think I should thank you for giving Kyle clothes?” Even as I asked him, that didn’t sound right.
“No, you jock dick. I want you to thank me for explaining to the girl you lied to for three years that you weren’t a complete asshole because you liked boys the whole time you were using her to hide behind. I would like a small acknowledgment that I took your side even though you have been nothing but shitty to me and that you’d never once consider taking my side if I needed you.”
I just stood there, stunned.
“See, I know Kyle told you why Jennifer wasn’t holding a grudge against you two, and still you didn’t think for one moment about, just maybe, saying thank you. I have no idea why Kyle would waste his time with you… no, wait, I do see it. Let me rephrase. If you couldn’t shred cheese on your abs, I’m sure Kyle would have nothing to do with you. Frankly, my dear, you aren’t a very nice person. I know, I’m not one either. Now you don’t like me for whatever little drama you have in your head, but I don’t like you because I went to the mat for you, and you’re still acting like a dick when you see me.” He gave me a plastic smile and cocked his head. “So you want to go another three rounds there, Sporty Spice?”
The last time I had felt this bad was when the guys in the library thought I was going to beat them up. Every time I think I’m becoming a better person, I trip over my own ego and find out I’m still the same asshole I didn’t like before.
“You’re right. That was shitty of me, and I’m sorry.” I would have rather eaten dirt at that moment instead of apologizing, but what choice did I have? Robbie was right. Jennifer had had every right to come after me to carve me up using a dull knife. Instead, she had buried her pain to become friends with me again.
And that was because of Robbie.
“You didn’t have to do that, and I didn’t deserve it. I apologize.” I turned to walk out, since there was no way in hell I could ask him to be the alliance’s sponsor after what he’d just said.
“So if you weren’t here for Kyle, why did you come in?”
I just shook my head and kept walking toward the door. “Doesn’t matter. Have a good one.”
“Oh, you fucking drama queen! Stop!” he snapped. I paused and looked over my shoulder at him. “I swear to God one of you butch freaks is worse than any three drag queens.” He rounded the end of the counter and came to a halt a few feet away, leaning casually against the glass top. “You came in here for something; then you were read. Now learn humility from that and try again.” I gave him a confused look, and he sighed at me. “Why did you come in here?”
I wanted to leave, but I knew I was in it now. “I was wondering…. I mean, Kyle is trying to…. Just never mind. It’s stupid.”
“Oh for the love of…,” he sputtered at me, glaring like he was thinking about taking a swing at my face. “Kyle is trying to…,” he prompted me.
“Kyle is trying to get a gay-straight something started at the school, and we need a teacher to run it, or they’ll say no.” I said everything in one breath, certain I had run everything together into one garbled phrase.
“A gay-straight something?” he echoed slowly.
“Some kind of club, I think, for gay kids. I don’t know. He just says it’s important.” I really wanted to get away from Robbie now.
He seemed to think it over for a few seconds. “You’re talking about one of those alliances, right?” I nodded in agreement. “One of those lame-ass groups where no one shows up, and the school thinks it’s done something for the poor, misguided ’mos wandering the halls.” He went back behind the counter. “It’s a waste of time. Tell him not to bother.”
I nodded and kept moving toward the door.
“Hold it,” he called out. I looked over at him, just dying for him to stop talking. “Why would you come to me for that?”
“I don’t know. I was hoping you could get a job at the school or know someone who would step up. I just have no idea where to find someone.”
He shook his head. “No, that I gathered. I mean, why are you here pushing for it?” I didn’t understand what he meant. “Why do you care so much? Do you even know why Kyle thinks it’s so important?”
I had to admit I didn’t.
“He thinks it’s important, so it has to be” was all I could answer.
“And winner of the worst reason to do something goes to Bradley Greymark and his ‘My boyfriend is smarter than I am, so I don’t need to do any thinking for myself’ response. I know why Kyle would think this idea is worth pursuing, but if you have no idea what a gay-straight alliance means, I suggest you get out of the way, because asking people to help you with something that you have no earthly clue about makes you sound dumber than you already are.”
I nodded, feeling even more stupid. “Sorry again,” I mumbled as I opened the front door.
“Figure out what Kyle is trying to do,” he called after me. “If you know why he is doing it, maybe you’ll find a reason of your own to ask me to help.”
So far it had been the best advice I’d heard all day.
I went to Nancy’s Diner because I hadn’t heard from Kyle, and I wasn’t ready to go home and call it a day yet. A thousand thoughts jostled for my attention, and I barely registered Gayle stopping at my booth, pad in hand, to take my order. “Well, well, well, young Mr. Greymark, as I live and breathe! You ready to order or waiting on Kyle?”
I shrugged and put the menu back next to the sugars. “I guess a Coke and fries.” My voice had all the excitement of a guy being woken up in the middle of the night to answer the phone.
She shook her head and then sat down across from me. “I’ve known you since you had to use a booster seat to eat at this table, and you have never once not been hungry.” She gave me one of her “talk to me” smiles. “You and Kyle fighting again?”
“No, it isn’t that.” I began to explain. “I just, I mean, Kyle is trying to do something, and I can’t….” I sighed as I realized I was making no sense whatsoever. “I am just tired of being the dumb guy in the relationship.”
She gave me a stern look. “How many all-star games did Nolan Ryan play in?”
I didn’t even have to think about it. “Eight.”
“And how many career strikeouts did he pitch?”
“Um, five thousand, seven hundred and fourteen.”
“And how many
no-hitters did he pitch?”
“Seven.”
“See?” she said, pointing a finger at me. “You are not dumb at all. You just have a very specific skill set.”
I rolled my eyes and thunked my forehead against the tabletop. “Awesome. My superpower is remembering baseball stats. I’m sure that will help Kyle immensely.”
I felt something hit the top of my head. I looked up and dodged away from the possibility of another lethal order pad attack. “I allow a lot of stuff in my place, but pity parties are not on the list. Brad, it takes real brains to remember all of that stuff. It took real brains for you to think past just being reinstated on the team and to demand an antibullying policy for Foster High. Thought I forgot about that, didn’t you? Well, I didn’t. Brad, the longer you sit there moaning about how dumb you are, the more you’re going to believe it. Sorry, son, you have lots of brains, so suck it up, buttercup.”
Neither one of us said anything for a few seconds. Finally I blurted out, “Do you think Kyle just likes me for my looks?”
Her eyes went wide, and she bit her lip in an attempt to withhold the laugh that burst out of her anyway. “Do I think Kyle likes the way you look? Of course he does, sweetie. Most of the people in the world would like the way you look.” More seriously, she added, “Do I think it is the only reason? No, and let me tell you why. Because Kyle isn’t in love with your face or your body or even that smile. He is in love with the guy who set up an elaborate date for him because he wanted to make him happy. He is in love with the guy who stood next to him when the rest of the school was ready to lynch him. Your looks might get you in the door, Brad, but I assure you it is your heart that’s the reason you’re staying. If Kyle has a problem, you’re already helping him. You’re there for him, and he knows that.”
I began to protest, but she talked over me. “And I know you wish you could do more than that, but I assure you, being there one hundred percent is way more than a lot of other people ever think of doing. Don’t sell yourself short there, son.” She slid out of the booth, straightened her apron, and snapped her order pad open again. “There are more than enough people in the world who will do that for you. Trust me, they don’t need any help.”