Exiled to Iowa. Send Help. And Couture

by Chris O'Guinn

  I suppose things were going too well. I let my guard down. The next day, I was at my locker when I was seized by Billy and slammed face first into the metal door. He turned me around and grabbed me by the shirt. What I had done to break our truce I had no idea. I just knew that some bones that were special to me were about to get busted. I winced and looked into his face, noting a very large bruise on his face and wondering, briefly, who had been stupid enough to hit the big jerk.

  Predictably, none of the nearby students did anything but gawk and offer encouragement. The Roman gladiator games had nothing on high school, I swear.

  “You think you’re pretty funny. Don’t you, jackass?”

  I was at a loss to even imagine what he might be talking about. “Yes…? What are you referring to?”

  “I asked Becca to the Hoedown. Guess who she’s going with?”

  Oh. That. “She asked me, Billy.” Getting him to calm down was the first phase of my plan to avoid a messy death. “I swear.”

  “You should have said no,” Billy told me. “You’re going to wish you had.” He brought his arm back and I closed my eyes.

  The blow did not come. In fact, the hand holding me let go. I opened my eyes just in time to see Billy get thrown into the row of lockers opposite. Austin had appeared out of nowhere and taken on the school bully for me. It was absurd. Billy had half a foot and twenty pounds on him. The onlookers gaped in astonishment.

  No one had ever attacked Billy before. I could see that thought on every one of their faces.

  Austin let him get most of the way up before slamming into him with all of his weight behind him, smashing Billy into the lockers again. I was shocked. Was this the real Austin? Was he, in fact, as crazy as people thought? Had he hurt someone so badly at his old school they had tossed him out? A hundred questions raced through my mind, and I was paralyzed by them.

  Billy shook it off and stood, locking gazes with Austin. The air crackled with hostility. Billy’s face was red from anger. He was clearly intent on putting down this rebellion immediately. Austin, by contrast, was looking at him with dead calm. That expression unsettled me. It had an even more profound effect on Billy.

  It was a look that said “you can’t hit me hard enough to keep me from busting you up.”

  Billy finally decided it was not worth the risk. He snorted and looked past Austin to me, and there was a threat implicit in his eyes. I read it plainly and knew that our truce had been cancelled. I wished he would just listen to me. I wasn’t trying to get between him and Becca. It was him acting like this that was causing the problem.

  He smirked at Austin and then walked off. To my relief, Austin did not pursue him. No, my panic had been unjustified. He wasn’t some crazy guy who got off on hurting people. He had just leaped to my defense—and put himself at considerable risk in the process. I had no idea how I had earned such a selfless act of heroism, but I was damn grateful.

  “Are you all right?” he asked me.

  I managed a smile. “Thanks to you.” My face hurt a little from being shoved into the locker, but that was not important to me right then. I eyed him. “You do know he’s going to catch you alone somewhere now, right?”

  Austin slowly shook his head. “He won’t risk it. It pays to have a reputation as a psycho, you know. He’s never even acknowledged my existence.”

  “Still....” Well, I wasn’t going to pick apart his highly ill-advised act of bravery. “You want to hang out after school? Homework is less annoying when it’s done with a friend.”

  Austin gave me a little smile of agreement.

  His tussle with Billy had one unexpected advantage. It made him cool enough that Nick relented and rejoined our lunch group. He even complimented Austin on taking Billy down a peg. That was a giant relief, I have to say. Nick was a little obnoxious in some ways, but I genuinely liked him. I didn’t want to have to end up choosing between him and Austin.

  I received two very large shocks at the club meeting that week. First, Austin showed up—with his hood down, of all things. I started to look around for four guys on horseback when he shuffled into a seat and tried to become invisible.

  The odd thing was that no one had ever seen him without the hood, so it took a few for people to actually realize who he was. When they did figure it out, whispered chatter broke out among them. I casually welcomed him, making it clear he was there on my invitation. That helped a little.

  The next shock was far less pleasant. Billy crashed our party. I had no idea what the hell he was doing there, but he was very well behaved. In fact, he did not say anything at all. I kept throwing furtive glances his way, and my nervousness seemed to please him. He really was an extremely unpleasant person, I was starting to understand.

  The primary order of business that day was fundraising. We brainstormed on several different ways to bring in cash and then voted on which ones we would actually carry out. We needed to put a minimum of a thousand dollars in the coffers if we were going to try and put on a production. A general consensus was reached that we would focus on raising funds for four weeks and then see how things stood.

  After the meeting broke, I bravely went over to Billy and flat-out asked him what he was up to. I suppose it wasn’t hard to be brave, since it wasn’t likely that he would attack me right there with Mr. Lundquist watching.

  “Afraid of a little competition?” he asked.

  Something had softened his brains. That was the only explanation. “What are you talking about?”

  Billy shrugged. “I figure I’ll play on your turf, crowd the time you have with Becca. See how you like it.”

  I very nearly yelled, “I’m gay, you moron” at him. Self-Preservation once again rescued me, chomping on those words and mauling them to death.

  “Fine. Whatever.” It was pointless to argue with the stupid straight boy.

  To my endless embarrassment, and over my strident protests, my parents had decided to attend the Hoedown. It was, after all, a community event so even the old people were allowed to join in. I wasn’t sure who had come up with that idiotic idea, but it obviously had been someone older than twenty.

  To make it worse, since neither of us could drive, Becca and I had to agree to meet there with our chaperones. In spite of my parents’ ruthless attempts to ruin my night, I was in high spirits. From the ashes of my old life, a new one was taking shape. I was finding friends, acceptance and fashionable couture in this little corner of the world.

  Now that I knew we were here partly because of me, I was letting go of a lot of my resentment for the move. It was hard to maintain it without it bouncing back and hitting me in the eye. Also, and I would not admit this out loud, I sort of loved my parents so much for caring enough to uproot themselves and move here that I didn’t want to bust them anymore for it.

  Becca’s mom was a short-statured woman with a perm. Her dad was a gangly gentleman with a terrifying mustache. Her parents and my parents immediately started to bond, which was unsettling, of course. Becca, Keith and I made our escape, heading for the punch bowl.

  The old barn that was the locale for this shindig was huge and ancient. I heard someone say it was the oldest standing structure in the whole town. A live band was playing music that had way too much twang in it for my tastes. Lanterns lit the place inside and out, and the smell of fresh straw filled the festive air.

  “Wow, jeans, Collin?” Becca asked. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

  “I make sacrifices, sometimes, to dress appropriately for the occasion,” I told her. She was wearing the sparkly jeans and the blue top I had first picked out for her.

  “Dude, you should wear whatever you feel like,” Keith told me, missing my sarcasm.

  I smiled a little and didn’t point out he had missed the joke. “Hey, did you call Jack?”

  Keith nodded, brightening at the question. “I’m going to start Sunday. Thanks, Collin. I can’t wait to get some cash in my pocket.”

  “It is sweet.” If I was lucky
, I might be able to get a new rust-bucket myself and get it fixed up.

  Keith nodded energetically. “Oh, hey, I see Shawna. Got to go.”

  He bounded off to flirt with the girl, which was sort of sweet. Becca watched him go, a smile on her face. “He’s been a lot happier since he met you,” she told me.

  “Really? I can’t imagine him ever not being happy.”

  She shrugged a little. “Oh, he doesn’t really show it much, but I notice. He seems to think you’re really cool. Where he got that idea, I don’t know.”

  “He’s just more perceptive than you,” I told her.

  Her eyes flashed, but she was smiling too. The band started playing a song with an actual beat, and I felt some relief. It wouldn’t be all hillbilly music after all. I felt the rhythm working on me, getting my feet twitching.

  “Want to dance?” I asked.

  Becca actually blushed, which was weird. “Yeah.”

  I love to dance. I love having the music possess me and move me like a puppet on its strings. It wasn’t my sort of music, but I could ignore that. There was an energy to it that was close enough to the sort I thrive on. Maybe it’s because it’s one of the few ways I can get my gay on without attracting too much notice.

  Becca just lit up as we danced, her brittle exterior falling away in a rush of giddy laughter. It was apparent she did not get out on the dance floor often.

  Shawna and Keith made their way over to us and joined in. Nick and Jackie appeared a moment later, and the lot of us cavorted happily to the band’s rhythm. I noted how strange it was that me, city dweller, was having such a great time at an event called “The Hoedown,” but it didn’t kill my buzz. I’m a creature of the moment, and I was having a fantastic time.

  Becca and I got some punch afterwards. I was really thirsty. The band had gone on to something hideous by some country star. I graciously ignored it, allowing the hicks to have their moment.

  “This is actually fun,” I admitted to her. “Thanks for the invite.”

  Becca smiled sweetly. “I told you it would be.” She grinned. “You can really dance.”

  I drained my punch and got another, trying to not beam conceitedly. “It’s one of my many talents, you know. Sometimes, I just have to bust a move.”

  Becca rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I was worried you were going to bust something else.”

  “Hey, I can’t help it if I am too cool for this room.”

  “You are pretty cool, that’s for sure,” she admitted. “You’re slowly conquering the whole school, somehow. You’ve got the school psycho eating out of the palm of your hand, half the student body is wearing stuff from The Grab Bag and you’ve created one of the biggest clubs on campus. You work fast.”

  “It’s an L.A. thing, baby,” I told her. “We don’t let the grass grow underneath our feet.”

  “I should probably get this in early, then, since you’ll be fielding requests from every girl in school soon. You want to go to Homecoming with me? I know it’s a few weeks off....”

  The question was so surprising that I was struck dumb for a moment. I was in such a good mood and having so much fun, though, that my impulsive nature took over and answered for me. I did not think of Billy and how he would break me into matchsticks. I didn’t even pay any attention to the fact that it was the second dance she had invited me to, though I definitely should have.

  “Sure! That sounds like fun.”

  “Awesome,” she approved. “Hey, who’s that with Jack?” Becca asked me, nodding to where my boss and fashion supplier was standing a little ways apart.

  Jack was chatting and laughing with a guy I did not recognize. The man had short, spiky hair that had been doused with peroxide. He also had a number of piercings. In a single glance, I took in the casual touches, the familiar glances they traded, and I knew this had to be Jack’s boyfriend. It astounded me he was here in public with him. Granted, they weren’t being exactly obvious—Becca clearly had no clue—but it still seemed crazy.

  “I don’t know,” I told her.

  It wasn’t a lie. I did not know who the guy was, exactly. I was just assuming he was Jack’s boyfriend. There was no reason for me to voice that unverified suspicion of mine. I certainly didn’t want to jeopardize Jack’s standing in the community, though he seemed to be doing a good enough job on his own.

  “They seem pretty close,” Becca observed. She lowered her voice. “Do you think they might be, you know, gay?”

  A trickle of cold fear ran down my spine. “Maybe,” I hedged. “Does it matter?”

  Becca frowned. “I guess not. My mom said she heard rumors about Jack. So, I was only wondering. You work for him, after all.”

  “Yes, but that doesn’t mean he lets me read his diary,” I told her, made very uncomfortable by the entire subject.

  “Hey, relax,” she told me. “I was just asking.”

  It was a great party and a lot of fun. I was smiling in the backseat with Shawn as my parents drove us home. He had spent the evening trying to get busy with some girl, but the impression I had was that he had struck out. It’s harder to play the athlete card when you spend so much time on the bench.

  “You and Becca looked like you were having fun,” he commented. “Decided to play for the other team after all?”

  Now that my secret was out, it was really out. My parents knew Shawn knew, he knew they knew and I just wanted us all to stop talking about it. “What is it with you straight people? Can’t a boy just dance with a girl because they’re friends?”

  “Nope,” Shawn told me with a grin.

  My Dad was smiling too. “Sorry, kiddo, I have to back up Shawn on this one.”

  “You two are awful,” my mom told them. “You can dance with whoever you want, Col.”

  “Especially pretty girls,” Shawn said, elbowing me.

  “Can we send him back to L.A. already? Please?” I begged.

  My parents laughed. I could tell everyone had enjoyed the evening too. While it still came with reluctance, I did have to concede that life in Buford was not so bad as it might have been. In fact, right at that moment, I was happier than I had been in years.

  Chapter 10

  THINGS WERE VERY BUSY FOR me. Between the club, the job, my homework and spending every moment I could with Austin, my schedule was packed. The number of responsible things I was doing had my parents completely floored. There was already talk about plans to send Shawn back to L.A., which was very exciting and terribly depressing all at once.

  The odd thing was that it was not as necessary anymore. Shawn was getting play in practices, a fact that pleased him greatly but he had no explanation for. Noah, the team’s regular center, did not seem to be pleased to find himself on the bench. Since he did not seem to have an injury, I assumed he had been naughty in some basketballish way.

  Austin and I had a blast at the carnival. We rode rides that should have been condemned, ate ourselves sick and had some crazy fortune teller read our palms. The old crone told me I was destined to reach a crossroads in my life very soon and that if I chose the correct road, I would find love and happiness, but the wrong choice would bring bad things. Austin was told that his past was smothering his future, whatever that meant.

  Fundraising for the club was actually going very well. We did a car wash and then a bake sale, which helped a lot. Jack hooked me up with a hundred-dollar store gift card that I raffled off for some serious cash.

  I was quite surprised by how hard Billy worked for us, and I had no idea what to make of it unless it was to impress Becca. If that was his goal, though, it did not work very well, since she remained cold towards him.

  By the time the four week mark rolled around, we had enough in our coffers to actually put on a real production.

  We changed the venue for the meetings to the now-unused music room. It was larger and more comfortable. To inaugurate the move, I brought in my karaoke machine and challenged my group to show us all what they had. They laughingly threw
my challenge back in my face, so I was the first to go.

  My rendition of Starsailor’s “Some Of Us” garnered much applause.

  Shawna sang Taylor Swift’s “Fifteen” with incredible poise and pitch. She had quite a nice voice, something I had suspected from our little performance in The Grab Bag but was happy to have confirmed. Not to be outdone, Jackie belted out Destiny Child’s “I’m A Survivor,” her voice rising and falling with enviable control.

  There were other notable performances. Becca actually did a really good take on Carrie Underwood’s “Before He Cheats.” Billy shocked me to my very core by taking up the mike and belting out “Feel Good Drag” by Anberlin. I wasn’t sure which surprised me more; his volunteering to go up there or the fact that he did it well.

  It was very disturbing.

  The final performance was the most astonishing of all. Austin climbed on stage and took the microphone with quiet dignity. Over the weeks of meetings and hanging with me and Nick, he had gotten to a point where he was nearly comfortable with this group of people. The club members had been wary of him at first, but he had worked his ass off during fundraising and that had helped to change the way they looked at him. I think that had gone a long way to making him feel more at home among them.

  He went through my collection of karaoke CDs very carefully and picked out something very surprising. I recognized the first few strains of Blue October's “Hate Me” immediately. It was a wonderfully angsty song and one that I listened to often when I was in one of my emo moods. However, nothing prepared me for what Austin did with the song. He reached down into himself and pulled out something so raw and awful that I could not stop the tears from forming as he poured his heart into the melancholy lyrics.

  Austin's voice had a smoky maturity to it that brought a different dimension to the song. He was also flawlessly on key. It was obvious that this was not his first time singing this song. I could not spare a glance at the other club members, but from the deafening silence around me, I figured they were all similarly caught.