by RJ Scott
"Thanks for the support, Dan," Cameron said with emotion thick in his voice, making Luke examine the lust of his life closer. Tired, exhausted, sad, wistful… all words that registered in his head in an instant.
"Don’t sweat it," Dan replied gently. "Tomorrow is soon enough to sort it all out. Just don’t listen to the shit." He left the diner, a flurry of warm evening air coming in as he went out. Cameron watched him leave, and Luke couldn’t take his eyes off Cameron, who had paled considerably at Dan’s words.
"I’m outta here, too, homo," Mitchell added loudly, clapping Luke on his arm and jumping down off his stool. "Laters," he added, nodding to Cameron before following Dan outside. Roscoe broke the awkward silence by announcing it was eleven forty-five and the weather was going to be clear for the whole coming weekend.
"He calls you homo a lot, doesn’t he?" Cameron finally commented, and at first, Luke was relieved to have Cameron say something to break the impasse.
Then what Cameron had said hit him. Luke stared directly at him, his eyes wide with a sudden fear that the captain of the football team, Jock King, had, more or less, demanded an answer from him. Luke couldn’t see a way to avoid it. So much inside of him wanted to say, "Cameron, I’m gay, and I really want my hands all over you." It might even be worth getting beaten up by the entire football team just so he could tell Cameron how he felt.
"That’s because I am," Luke started bravely, watching for any sign of flying fists or spitting insult. When nothing seemed to be imminent, he continued, "Gay, y’know." There. He’d said the words, and nothing he could say would un-say them.
"No interest in girls whatsoever?" Cameron didn’t sound accusatory, or mad; he sounded intrigued. Luke cast a worried glance around the deserted diner. Tony had disappeared somewhere out back, all the customers had remembered they had homes to go to, and for the moment, it was only Luke and Cameron.
"None," Luke finally admitted, lowering his gaze to the already immaculate counter. Suddenly needing something to do, he resumed scrubbing furiously at those same imagined stains. Cameron reached over and gripped Luke’s hand, his touch both strong and gentle, and stopped Luke in mid-scrub.
The football player’s hold was warm, and Luke looked up, hard as nails in his pants, and mesmerized as Cameron gripped firmly.
"I knew already, Luke. I think most people know; and no one in their right mind should judge you," Cameron added softly, releasing Luke’s hand and sitting back on the stool, doing his own three-sixty inspection of the diner before turning back to Luke. "What time do you finish? Still midnight?" he asked.
Luke checked the clock; it was only ten or so minutes to the end of his shift.
Why would Cameron want to know when Luke finished? How the hell did he know Luke normally finished at midnight? Was there some nefarious reason? Maybe he was planning something with his football buddies on the lone gay guy working in the diner? Jeez, should he phone Mitchell, get some backup? Or call the cops? He didn’t answer Cameron at first. He was way too distracted by Cameron suddenly tilting his head to one side and half smiling a beautiful, mysterious Anders smile.
"Have you heard this?" he asked suddenly. He indicated the small radio on the end of the counter. That was what had brought the smile to Cameron’s face? "There’s this person who’s been requesting songs every Friday for a while now. It’s so… Listen…"
Luke didn’t need to listen. He knew what Roscoe would say. "The next song is from someone who cares," adding his own signature "baby" on the end. Then Roscoe would laugh and tease the mysterious caller who refused to leave a name, about knowing it was a boy, and said boy was obviously crushing hard on his girl, since he phoned every Friday.
"Yeah, I know," Luke offered helplessly. In his worst imaginings, he didn’t really want Cameron to realize who was requesting songs and why.
"It’s romantic. I have the station on in the truck usually, on the way home, in the dark," Cameron said softly, and Luke watched Cameron’s face as Roscoe ended his spiel—"So, for the one our mysterious guy cares about, we have Journey and ‘Don’t Stop Believin’"—and the words segued into the song.
Cameron stared back directly at Luke, and his eyes suddenly narrowed.
Was that a thoughtful look on Cameron’s face or some kind of accusation?
"You wanna know something weird?" Cameron finally asked just as the vocals cut to the chorus.
"Like what?" Luke tried for an approximation of innocent and wondered if he had managed it successfully.
"I noticed something about the songs," Cameron started, "like… the day Mary-Beth dumped me, Roscoe played this really cool old song. It was something about what would become of the broken hearted. The night before our last math exam, you know, the one none of us in the class had studied for, he played ‘Faith’ by George Michael. It’s as if…" His voice trailed off, and Luke swallowed hard at the blush climbing Cameron’s cheeks.
"As if?" Luke encouraged.
"You’re going to think I’m stupid."
"I promise you I won’t."
"Jeez. Look, call me crazy, but it’s as if this person… this boy making the calls was phoning up to get songs played for me."
"You?" Luke nearly choked on his Coke. Why was something he wanted Cameron to notice suddenly so cringingly bad when Cameron did notice it?
"Choosing songs for me," Cameron repeated, and then looked directly at Luke.
"Uh huh," Luke said in what he hoped was a non-committal way. Great, Holston, way to come off as clever and insightful… not. Cameron didn’t seem to notice and pushed ahead with his sudden revelation.
"Which would be weird, because… no one outside of the team knows about—"
"Knows about?" Luke echoed Cameron’s quiet words, hope flaring in his chest, at what he thought Cameron might be saying. Cameron inhaled, looking away briefly, and then back at Luke directly, biting his lip and then nodding.
"That I’m like you, that I don’t like girls, y’know, kissing and stuff, and. I like boys…" Luke heard the caution and uncertainty in Cameron’s voice. He realized abruptly Cameron couldn’t know how Luke would react, whether he’d laugh or rail on him or, possibly, accept what he said. Luke wondered whether Cameron had ever said "I like boys" aloud before today.
"Oh," Luke began softly as the last strains of Journey faded into the end-of-the-show ads and Roscoe’s voice said goodbye. It was the end of Luke’s shift, and he wasn’t sure exactly what Cameron was doing just before midnight, telling the school math nerd that he was gay. Luke’s world went into slow motion, even as astonishment swept him. He wished he could laugh this off, or act normally, but a crippling mix of shock and pleasure stole his voice.
He watched mutely as Cameron slid off the stool and stood tall. He winced inwardly at the wash of disappointment on the freckled face of the boy he wanted so badly.
"I thought maybe," Cameron started, his voice cold, "you would be different, that you would talk to me, have something to say to me. Or maybe just listen. Because the team…" Cameron’s voice trailed off, his eyes suspiciously bright.
Luke blinked. What was Cameron saying? Everything was a buzz in his head. He only knew Cameron had opened up to him and that, now, he was turning away, shoulders slumped, as if Luke had let him down, disappointed him.
"Wait, sorry, I’m— Cameron, wait!" Luke called, untying the apron from his waist and dropping it on the floor. "Tony! I’m gone!" he called as he vaulted the counter and landed as gracefully as his long limbs could let him at Cameron’s side. He had a wide grin on his face. "I’m finished." Cameron looked at him uncertainly, a frown on his face, and then hesitantly returned the smile. Luke strode past him to the door and opened it, gesturing Cameron through first.
They walked in silence to the small park located in the lot beside the diner; it was empty, midnight dark, and lit only by one streetlight that flickered at random intervals. The darkness invited confidences, and they sat on top of one of the wooden picnic tables, feet on the bench, eac
h waiting for the other to talk.
"What did you mean about the team?" Luke finally asked, half-turning to see Cameron considering his reply. It was a safe question to ask. They didn’t need to dive straight into the whole "I’m gay" thing.
"I came out to them. A while ago. I was honest; I had to be. They are—were—my closest friends. Fuck, some of them have been my friends since I was three." Cameron’s voice held so much bitter disappointment that Luke wanted to pull him in for a hug and tell him it would be okay. Instead, he nodded to indicate he understood what Cameron was saying. They didn’t live in a particularly big town. Westmoreland only had three middle schools and one high school. By the time any child attended Westmoreland High School, they already knew virtually everyone and, so much worse, everyone else’s business. It was a miracle that the news hadn’t spread to the rest of the school yet.
"What do you mean were? How did they react?" Not well, Luke assumed, by the twist of Cameron’s full mouth.
"Shocked mostly. I mean, I was with Mary-Beth for two years, did the whole straight couples crap."
"You were hiding?" Luke asked gently.
Cameron shook his head. "Not hiding deliberately. I never used her; I promise you that I didn’t mean to hurt her." He was so desperate to get that point over that his words tripped out staccato. "It was denial maybe, or jeez—" He huffed a laugh. "—probably disbelief."
"Disbelief?" Luke was a little unsure how he was going to handle Cameron coming out of the closet if he had the whole "fuck, my life is ruined" vibe going on.
"Disbelief that I was so stupid not to realize what I was doing to myself and her," Cameron finally answered.
"Oh." And yet another insightful comment leaves my lips, Luke thought morosely.
"Thing is, the team isn’t pulling together now, and I know it’s entirely my fault." Cameron’s voice held a tone warning Luke against any platitudes like "everything’s gonna be all right."
"Your fault?" And this is linked to being gay how?
"As captain. I mean… some of the guys on the team aren’t so good with the whole gay thing."
"Have they hurt you?" Something twisted in Luke’s gut at the thought of Cameron being hurt. He knew what it was like to be pushed into a locker, or called names. To be fair, physical and verbal abuse didn’t happen to Luke just because he was gay particularly, or even just because he was kind of a math nerd. Luke was gay and a nerd, and that was a double strike against him. He couldn’t imagine anyone pushing Cameron around; the guy was seriously built for an eighteen-year-old. However, verbal assault could be even more hurtful. It cut and dug away at self-esteem and confidence and left lingering scars.
Cameron looked up at Luke’s soft question, and Luke could see the confusion in Cameron’s eyes.
"Hurt me?"
"Physically. I mean, pushed you into lockers, hit you in the bathrooms, that kind of thing. It happens," Luke said, thinking back on the subtle, and sometimes not so subtle, expressions of people’s hatred for him and who he was, their repulsion, their fears, spilling over in demonstrations of temper.
"I know it does," Cameron replied simply. "They didn’t hurt me, not as such. I mean, they left me unprotected on the field, threw past me, that kind of childish shit, but they knew better than to push. Had some jokes though, usual stuff."
"Losing their respect must be hard," Luke offered gently. No kids at school respected him that he knew of. But then, no one at school was really of an age when being good at math was seen as something to be visibly jealous about. But the captain of the football team? The kudos that carried with it was worth more than gold.
"I know what the rest of the team says about you and your math friends behind your backs." Cameron revealed the news like he expected Luke to be horrified, but in reality, Luke wasn’t surprised. The most obvious contempt for the geeks and brains at the school had come from the school jocks, Mitchell, Dan and Cameron not included. "I’m…" Cameron’s voice trailed off. "Look, I told them to leave you alone when I saw it."
Luke instantly knew what Cameron was talking about. The day when his unfortunate use of the corridor passing the sports hall had put him in the way of the football guys. After a little pushing and shoving and a whole lot of taunts, Cameron was there in the midst of it, standing up for Luke and diffusing the hate.
"I know, and I wanted to say thank you at the time. Then wasn’t the right time, and you always had people around you," Luke offered with an apologetic shrug. He had wanted to say something, thank you, anything, but the tide of kids in the hall had carried away the one person with any credible reputation, other than Mitchell, who defended him. Cameron shrugged and looked away briefly, hunching his shoulders.
"I got into a fight over it. They asked how I could defend the faggot, the nerd, the loser. Shit." He clearly realized what he had said, and raised a pain filled gaze to Luke. "I don’t think that," he added hurriedly. "It was what they said."
"I guessed." Luke’s compulsion to hug Cameron was curtailed only just in time. "It’s nothing new; I’ve heard it all."
"Everything came out in the argument, and I told them about me and who I am." Cameron suddenly looked so sad, and compassion welled inside Luke, his sigh heartfelt. He’d had the luxury of telling his family at his own pace, and grown up with everyone at least suspecting he was not entirely straight.
"Oh, Cam," he finally said, not knowing what else to say.
"I like you calling me Cam. I like it a lot." Luke hadn’t realized he had shortened the name, imbuing it with the kind of affection and understanding a friend would give. Cameron’s open approval rendered him suddenly shy.
"What they said to you was crap," Cameron continued, his voice stronger.
"Seriously, Cam, I’m immune to their shit now. Only a few more months and I’m out of the school." Unspoken was the "and going to college" part.
"I’ve never seen it before, Luke, where they were doing stuff to you. I don’t have excuses. I know it happens; it was part of the reason it was easier not to tell anyone. I was oblivious, in my own world… Otherwise I would have… done something," he finished weakly.
Luke laughed and punched Cam lightly on the arm. "I’m not stupid. I know how it works. They’re all over me when they want help to pass math, but they change when they put those uniforms on. Mob mentality. I didn’t expect you to leap to the defense of the corridor outcast. I can’t say it doesn’t hurt to hear the shit, but I always had Mitchell in my corner."
"Mitchell is a good guy. He’s a bit of a dick sometimes, but a good guy." Cameron pulled his lower lip with his teeth, suddenly looking for all the world like he wished he hadn’t said anything about Luke’s best friend.
"God, yeah," Luke agreed fervently. "He’s such a dork most of the time, but we’ve been friends since I was two, and I am way past getting embarrassed by some of the shit he pulls."
"He stood by me when the team started in on me. He was extremely supportive, in my corner, him and Dan both."
Warmth filled Luke at the thought of his friend supporting Cam, and then realization hit him. "Wait… my best friend knew you were gay? All this time?"
"Yeah…" Cameron’s voice was hesitant. "But he said he wouldn’t say anything to anyone else. He promised. I didn’t want him telling you."
"Why?" Luke tried not to sound as hurt as he felt. Shit.
"I wanted to tell you in my own time, when I had it straight in my head, but I told him about you. About me and you."
"Me?" Luke was stalled in the "my best friend is a complete shit" stage. He couldn’t believe Mitchell had known Cam was gay and hadn’t said one freaking word.
"I told him I liked you. Explained I admired you for who you are. You’re a much braver person than I am, Luke. He listened, and he told me he doesn’t keep secrets from you. Only, I made him promise. Don’t be angry with him, please. Be angry with me instead."