aterovis_bm_reapthewhirlwind.p65

by Arlene Chance

  REAP THE WHIRLWIND

  not really up on my exercise lingo since as Garfield, the cat not the president, once said: my idea of exercise is a good brisk sit. Actually, I like to roller blade too but that just about sums up the extent of my physical exer-tion.

  Aidan seemed fascinated by all my paraphernalia, occasionally asking what something was and what I did with it. The last thing I pulled out of its protective cover was the painting I had completed last Saturday night. I was very self-conscious about my artwork; for the most part only Joey and Laura had seen much of my work.

  My parents had seen some, enough to know I had talent, so they’d sent me to a few art classes when I was younger. They seemed to think of my interest in art as a phase that I would outgrow like my rock collection or my chemistry set.

  “You did that?” Aidan exclaimed when I pulled out the painting.

  “Yeah,” I said shyly. “You didn’t think all this was just for show did you?”

  “No, but I mean that’s really good, Will. You’re really talented.”

  I felt a blush begin to creep up my neck. “Thanks,” I mumbled.

  “You just do this as a hobby?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Have you ever sold anything?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m not good enough to sell this stuff. I’ve never even had any real art classes, just school stuff and some kiddie classes.”

  “Who says you have to have art classes? Haven’t you ever heard of natural talent? If your other stuff is this good then you’re a heck of a lot better than a lot of people 49

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  I’ve seen showing in galleries.”

  “You know art?”

  “Some. Like I was telling you last night, my dad was a bit of a snob. He made sure us kids were exposed to

  ‘culture.’ Most of the stuff he dragged us to see was modern crap that looked like something my youngest brother did the day before in Pre-K. Worse, one time he took us to see a toilet. I’m not kidding. It was just a regular toilet that the guy had bought at your average hard-ware store and stuck in the middle of the museum. And it was art. What a joke. But some of the stuff I fell in love with: the old Masters, the Impressionists, and the surrealistic stuff.”

  “At least you had the opportunity to see that stuff.

  The Eastern Shore’s idea of culture is the Delmarva Chicken Festival. I envy you for that.”

  “Well, I envy you for your talent. I love art but I can’t even draw a straight line.”

  “I guess that makes us even then, huh? We can agree to envy each other.”

  Aidan laughed then asked, “Do you have any more paintings here?”

  “Um I think I left most of them at home—well, Mom and Dad’s because I didn’t know what I’d do with them here.”

  “Next time you go by there, pick them up; I’d really like to see them. This is really good; it’s kind of different. It reminds me of some stuff I saw one time at this show by some guy who was being called the next big thing. That was actually how they billed the showing.

  Maybe that could be you, Will. You could be the next big thing!”

  I felt a blush coming on again. I really hated having 50

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  both fair skin and a predisposition to blushing.

  “You don’t like getting compliments or talking about yourself, do you?” Aidan asked, noticing my discomfort.

  “No, not really. It makes me uncomfortable.”

  “Why?”

  “I dunno. I guess I feel like I don’t deserve the compliments, like they aren’t true.”

  “But you have to know how talented you are,” he persisted.

  “You’re just saying that to be nice. I mean what else could you say. Man, Will, that sucks?”

  “I wouldn’t say I liked it if I didn’t. First thing you need to know about me is I’m always straight—well, bad choice of words but you know what I mean.”

  I laughed as he grinned at me.

  “Just accept the compliments for what they are and say thank you,” he went on.

  “That’s easy for you to say, you’re confident and out-going.”

  “And you have low self-esteem.”

  “Thank you for your diagnosis, Dr. Scott, but I could have told you that.”

  “Why do you think you have low self-esteem? I mean you’re cute, talented, funny ”

  “Do you think we could continue this session at another time,” I interrupted loudly as I felt my face blaze with color. “Killian and Asher will be here in an hour and we still have shit all over the place.”

  “Hmm aggression, change of subject—the subject is exhibiting signs of classic avoidance,” he said in a phony Freudian accent.

  “I’ll show you avoidance,” I growled playfully as I 51

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  tackled him. We rolled into a laughing heap on the floor where we wrestled for several minutes. I wrestled with Joey all the time but I was no match for Aidan; he had me outweighed and out-muscled. There was really no contest, but I suspected that he was giving me a lot more openings than I would have ever gotten if this were a serious fight.

  We were so caught up in our wrestling match that we didn’t even hear the knocking or the door swinging open. The first we knew of our visitors was when someone called, “Hello? Aidan?”

  Aidan let go of me so quickly that my head bounced off the hardwood floor. “Ugh,” I grunted and stayed still while I waited for the stars to stop spinning. Aidan scrambled to his feet above me. His shirt was pulled halfway over his head and he hastily tugged it back into place. For the first time I saw him blush for a change. I heard giggles from the door but from my spot on the floor I couldn’t see who it was.

  “Are we interrupting something?” the same voice asked.

  “No, I mean—uh—we were just playing around,”

  Aidan stammered. It was the first time I had seen him really flustered and I was definitely enjoying seeing the usually unflappable Aidan come unflapped. Uncharacteristically, I decided to push things a little farther. I ran my hand up his leg to his thigh. Aidan yelped and danced away to a safer distance and glared at me.

  “We have guests, darling,” he said deliberately, then turned back toward the door. “Come on in, Asher and Killian.”

  At the mention of Asher’s name I sat bolt upright.

  Asher’s mouth dropped open and a very satisfied grin 52

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  spread across Aidan’s face. The boy I assumed to be Killian just looked confused as he looked from Aidan to Asher to me. His eyes grew wide as he looked back and forth from me to Asher.

  “Will?” Asher gasped.

  “Uh, hi, Asher. Long time no see, cuz,” I said as I turned what I could only guess to be approximately the same color as a stop sign.

  “Cuz? As in cousin?” Killian asked, his blue eyes bright with amusement. I had to say one thing for Asher; he had good taste in his men.

  “Yeah, this is my cousin Will. What are you doing here?” he asked me.

  “I live here.”

  “You’re Aidan’s roommate?” Killian asked.

  “Surprise.”

  He looked from me to Aidan. “And you two are—”

  “No!” I gasped. Aidan started laughing.

  “But when we walked in you two were ”

  “We were wrestling! That’s all. Right, Aidan?”

  He laughed for another minute before he managed to choke out, “That’s what I tried to tell them from the beginning, before you decided to feel me up.”

  “I didn’t—I was just—I’m not—” I sputtered.

  Aidan was bent double laughing while Killian and Asher still stood uncertainly in the doorway. Aidan waved them in as I pulled myself up off the floor and attempted to salvage what little dignity I still had left.

  “You should have seen your face!” Aidan crowed.

  I chose to ignore him. “Just put your stuff over here by the wall for now,” I said playing the host. “The couch opens up into a bed so you can share that. Sorry about all the boxes, we weren’t expecting you to be here this 53


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  early.”

  “Obviously,” Killian said with a grin. “We’ll help you clean up.”

  Aidan managed to stop laughing in time to help straighten up the living room and carry the empty boxes out to the dumpster. By the time we were done Killian had visibly relaxed, but Asher still seemed tense. Then I remembered that Asher didn’t know that I knew he was gay. He must have been worried about what I would think if I figured it out. As soon as I saw a chance to speak to him privately, I sat down next to him. Killian and Aidan were busy hooking up my N-64, arguing about which wire connected where.

  “Asher,” I said quietly, “I know about you and Killian, and it’s okay. I’m cool with it.”

  Relief flooded his eyes, “What about Uncle Lowell?”

  “Dad doesn’t know and he won’t find out from me,”

  I assured him. “I just found out last night. While we’re on the subject, Dad doesn’t know that Aidan is gay either, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

  “Well, you don’t have to worry about me telling him.

  It’s not like I talk to him anyway. No offense but I usually try to avoid Uncle Lowell at family reunions. I always feel guilty around him. Not for anything in particular—just guilty in general.”

  I laughed. “Yeah, he does have that effect on people.”

  Killian wandered over and peered closely at both of us.“Quit that!” Asher said testily.

  “It’s just that you guys look so much alike it’s freaky.

  The only difference is that Will’s eyes are blue.”

  “Stand up,” I ordered Asher as I stood up myself. He complied and Killian laughed.

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  “Okay, so there’s also about six inches of difference.”

  “Seven,” Asher said smugly, “I grew an inch.” I stuck my tongue out at him showing that what I lacked in height I made up for in maturity.

  “I didn’t think anyone could be cuter than you, Ashke, but I think you might have some competition with Will on the scene.”

  Once again, I blushed as Asher punched Killian in the arm. Then he punched me in mine.

  “Hey! What did I do?” I yelled.

  “I dunno, but I’m sure you deserved it for some reason.”

  “The 64’s hooked up,” Aidan called and Asher darted to his side; he was quite the video game addict. I turned to Killian.

  “You just called Asher Ashke. Is that just a nickname?

  Or are you a Mercedes Lackey fan, too?”

  “You know Mercedes Lackey?”

  “Oh yeah, we had coffee just last week.”

  “You know what I meant; you’ve read her books?”

  “Yeah, she’s one of my favorite authors.”

  “Me too! I just discovered her a few months ago but I think I’ve read everything she’s written. I started calling Asher Ashke after reading the Last Herald Mage Trilogy—the ones with Vanyel?”

  “I’ve read them. In fact, I haven’t unpacked them yet, but I own a bunch of the Valdemar series.”

  “Wow that’s so cool.”

  “What’s cool?” Aidan yelled from his spot in front of the TV.

  “None of your business, Mr. Nosy!” I called back.

  “How about me? Will you tell me?” Asher piped up.

  “Yeah, I’ll tell you. Killian and I are both Mercedes 55

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  Lackey fans.”

  “You’ll tell him but not me?” Aidan pretended to pout.

  “He’s family,” I shot back.

  “Aidan’s my family,” Killian said protectively.

  “Not another Lackey fan,” Asher moaned over the friendly banter.

  “What’s wrong with Mercedes Lackey?” Aidan said defensively.

  “Not you too?”

  “You really don’t like her?” I asked.

  “She’s okay; I just didn’t get as excited about her as Killian. I like mysteries better than fantasy.”

  “Did you read many of them?” I persisted.

  “No, he only read one! And it was the middle of one of the trilogies, so he didn’t even know what was going on,” Killian inserted indignantly.

  “You didn’t give them a chance,” Aidan said. “There’s mystery, action, romance—everything you want in a good book.”

  “Jeez, what is this; a meeting of the official Mercedes Lackey Fan Club?”

  “She has one you know,” I pointed out and we all laughed.

  The playful bickering went on all night. It was as if we’d all been friends forever. We played Clue and a marathon game of Monopoly that Killian eventually won in the wee hours of the morning. Asher was looking very droopy by then and I knew I was just as tired, so I suggested we all hit the sack. Aidan and I helped Asher and Killian make up the sofa bed then we retired to our respective rooms.

  Maybe change doesn’t have to be so bad after all, I 56

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  thought as I undressed. Who needs Joey and Laura when you have friends like Aidan, Asher, and Killian?

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  CHAPTER FOUR

  I brushed my teeth and went through all my evening rituals, then just before I got into bed, I decided I was thirsty. I didn’t want to disturb anyone else if they were trying to fall asleep so I eased open my door and padded softly down the hall to the kitchen. As I passed through the living room, I overheard Asher and Killian talking quietly. Even though I knew I shouldn’t, I stopped and listened.

  “Will seems really nice,” Killian was saying.

  I felt horrible for eavesdropping, but I didn’t move.

  “Yeah, he is. He’s always been one of my favorite relatives, maybe because we look so much alike. One of our great aunts always got us backwards. One time he even got blamed for something I did at a family reunion. I never did tell them I did it.” They giggled and Asher was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “Do you really think he’s cuter than me?”

  I saw movement under the blankets as Killian turned to face Asher.

  “What do you think, silly?”

  “I think he has prettier eyes. His are blue and mine are this stupid blah gray.”

  “They’re silver and they are beautiful. You are beau-58

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  tiful. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  Asher, you have to know by now that I love you more than life itself. I love being with you. When we’re apart, I feel like part of me is missing. I think about you all the time. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. After all we’ve been through together, how can you doubt my love for even a single second?”

  “It’s not that I doubt it. I mean I love you too and I know you love me. It’s just you’re so incredible; I keep wondering why you are with me. Never mind, I’m just being silly.”

  “Yes. You. Are.” Each word was separated by a kiss and was punctuated emphatically at the end with a passionate embrace.

  I backed slowly out of the room and returned to my own. I hadn’t gotten my drink, but suddenly I wasn’t thirsty anymore. My thirst had been swallowed by a sharp pang of—was it jealousy? Maybe, but it was definitely longing. I wanted what they had so badly that I could hardly breathe. I’d never even come close to having that depth of relationship with Beth. Would I ever have that?

  Unbidden, an image of Joey suddenly leapt into my mind. I mentally swatted it away in annoyance.

  “Stop it!” I hissed out loud at myself. “I am not in love with Joey. It’s just because Laura put the idea in my head. I can’t be gay.”

  But this time it wouldn’t go away. It was suddenly like there were two people arguing inside my head.

  “Why can’t I be gay?”

  “Because ”

  “Because why?”

  “Because ”

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  Okay. So it wasn’t as simple as that. With a growl of frustration I threw myself backwards onto my bed. Well, maybe it was time to settle this once and for all. Then at least I could stop avoiding Laura. She was getting harder and harder to d
odge.

  I decided to do this logically. I started making a mental list of all the things that I never felt for Beth that I saw in Killian and Asher. One, Beth was never my top priority. I never loved her more than life itself as Killian had said. Two, I didn’t want to be with her all the time, in fact, I hardly ever thought about her when we were apart. Three, I definitely didn’t want to spend the rest of my life with her.

  Okay, so it was obvious that I did not love Beth, but that doesn’t mean that I’m in love with Joey. I took the same list and measured my feelings for Joey against them. One, everyone said Joey was my top priority so maybe he was. I had to admit his decisions were usually set in concrete where my life was concerned. Strike one. Two, Joey and I were almost always together. Well, at least we had been before he’d started college. And when we weren’t I missed him terribly. Hmm—strike two. Three, did I want to spend the rest of my life with Joey?

  I sat up. I didn’t like what I was thinking. It went against everything I’d ever been taught. Could I be in love with Joey? It was getting harder and harder to come up with reasonable excuses as to why I wasn’t. The idea really shook me.

  I felt a sudden need for the comfort of light so I crawled across the bed and reached for the lamp on my bedside table. My hand was shaking so hard however that I couldn’t twist the little knob that turned it on. In 60

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  frustration, I threw my hands up knocking the clip-on shade off in the process and toppling the lamp onto the floor where I heard the light bulb smash. I cursed and fumbled in the darkness. I found the shade and was feeling for the lamp when a soft knock came at my door.

  I heaved a sigh, crawled back to the foot of the bed, and went to open it. It was Aidan. He eyed the shade still in my hand and gave me a curious look.

  “The party’s over, dude,” he said in a hushed voice.

  To my utter embarrassment I burst into tears. I threw the shade across the floor and threw myself face down on the bed.

  “Will! What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with concern. I heard the door close and a few seconds later felt his hand on my back. “Look, Will, I know we really don’t know each other that well yet, but I already feel close to you and I consider you my friend. So I’m going to make the same offer to you that applies to all my friends. If you want to talk about anything, I mean anything at all, I’ll always be here to listen. I’m a good listener and I won’t judge or repeat anything you tell me.