Daniel, head held high and back straight as an arrow, was decked out in his winnings. His pockets bulged with tiny plushies, and he cradled the bigger ones in his arms.
Ever the golden boy, Daniel put smiles on two little girls’ faces by sharing his winnings with them.
“You were great,” he reassured me. But it was one of those things that people say just to make you feel better, like, “You’ve totally lost all the baby weight,” or, “Of course that hair color looks totally natural.”
“Uh-huh,” I muttered, nursing my severely bruised ego.
Though, in all fairness, Daniel had been a good sport. Most guys would have identified their friend’s weakness and used it to their advantage, reducing themselves to nothing more than a testosterone-fueled brute. But Daniel had gone easy on me, allowing me the shred of dignity that comes with finishing at a somewhat close second.
And he had held up his end of the bargain; I was now the happy owner of a fuzzy, green gorilla. Though anatomically incorrect, with an overly large head and huge eyes, its silly grin was still endearing.
“He looks a little bit like you, I think,” I told Daniel once I had recovered from my pouty bout of Runner-Up Syndrome. I held the stuffed animal up next to his head. “The hair, maybe?”
“Oh yeah,” he agreed, ruffling the gorilla’s little, green tuft of fur. Daniel styled it delicately so that it matched his own tussled-at-the-front look.
“There we go.”
“It’s uncanny,” he said and then imitated the gorilla’s dopey grin.
I laughed. “He looks like a Daniel Junior.”
“Agreed. Little DJ,” he said fondly.
And though Daniel started chuckling as he handed the stuffed animal back, the only thing I could think of was how in sixty years the two of us would reminisce about this, the naming of our first child.
“He’s just missing the necklace,” I said. I had noticed that the thing never came off his neck.
Daniel instinctively pulled the necklace out and started to play with the beads. “Yeah.”
“What is that thing anyways?”
“Uh, Hannah made it for me,” he said. “When we were in the hospital. As, like, a weird kind of thank you.”
“For your kidney.”
“Exactly.”
I smiled. “It’s nice.”
“Thanks,” he replied. “I think so too.”
We were walking along the boardwalk. The crowd had thinned out considerably and a gentle breeze was coming in from the ocean, making the air smell salty and raising goose bumps on my skin. I rubbed some warmth back into my arms.
“You must enjoy being back here, huh?” I asked, noticing the smile on Daniel’s face as he took in the sights.
He nodded. “Yeah. I love it here. It’s a good place … good people too.”
“I can’t say I disagree,” I replied. “Everyone’s been so nice to me here. Well, I mean your sister … uh, you know, she’s nice enough.”
“Trust me,” he said with a laugh, “I know.”
“It must be hard to be away all year at school. You must miss it here, and your family and friends.”
“I manage.” He shrugged. “I’m at a good school. They’re not super strict there, so there’s Wi-Fi in the dorms and everything. I video chat with people back home almost every night. And I come back for Christmas and spring break. But it is hard.”
“It must be expensive,” I said. That sounded rude. “I mean, like, not that it’s bad but—”
“It’s okay, I know what you mean. And there’s no way my parents would be able to afford it, but I got in on a scholarship. It’s a really cool program, and you have to pass a really hard test and write an essay to get in. But I guess they liked me. So … yeah.”
I smiled. “You’ll have to let me read it sometime.”
“Sure,” he answered with a smile. “It’s really just lucky that they picked me; I love it there.”
“Hannah didn’t get in?” I asked.
He shook his head. “No. She, uh … didn’t pass the exam. And my parents can’t afford the regular tuition. The only reason I’m there is because of the scholarship.”
“And how does everything work with you and Katie?” I asked out of pure curiosity … although I admit my voice took on a little bit of a bitter tone.
“I see the angry mob got you on board the We Hate Kate Campaign,” he said sadly.
“Uh, I—”
“Things between Katie and I are … complicated. It’s just … it’s complicated.”
“Okay.”
He looked at me pleadingly. “Will, would you do me a favor?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you please not be like them?”
I frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s just that … ever since Katie and I started seeing each other, it’s been an uphill battle. My best friend loathes her. My sister never gives me a break about it. They can’t be supportive; it’s always this sarcastic animosity. I hate it. And I really just need someone on my side. I’m not asking you to be Team Katie all of a sudden, but it’s really hard to have everyone I care about disapprove of my choices.”
I felt like the hugest asshole ever. “Yeah … yeah, okay. I’m sorry. I won’t let Hannah and all of them influence my opinion. I’ll think for myself, okay?”
Daniel smiled, his eyes swimming in relief. “You don’t know how much that means to me.”
“You know what, as long as you love her and you’re happy, that’s what counts. Right?”
“Yeah.” He paused, nodding contemplatively. He didn’t say anything else.
“There you go,” I told him. It pained me inside to be giving him my blessing to be with the girl that I genuinely didn’t like, regardless of the others’ opinion of her. It hurt me that he wanted her over me. But I tried to tell myself that this is what he wanted, and I had to respect that. It wasn’t about who got him, her or me; it truly came down to the simple difference of what was in our pants.
And it helped that I could see the gratitude in his smile. He asked me, “Do you have anyone special back home, Will?”
“No.” I shook my head. “I’m all alone.”
“Oh, I—”
“Wait, that came out wrong,” I said quickly. “I, uh, just haven’t found someone yet.”
He put a hand on my shoulder. “It won’t be long.”
“I don’t really know if I believe that,” I mumbled.
“Don’t think like that,” he told me fiercely.
“It doesn’t matter,” I snapped, feeling instantly bad about it. “Can we not talk about this anymore?”
“Yeah.”
It was painful. Because what does anyone want if not to be loved. Was I a teenager? Yeah. Did I have loads of time ahead of me? Of course I did. But did that mean that I didn’t want love, that I wasn’t ready for it, that I didn’t think about it often and miss it with crippling desperation?
I was lonely, and I felt it more often than I cared to admit. And walking next to Daniel, I wondered how it could possibly be fair that I couldn’t be with him because I was a boy, and so was he.
It’s hard to be gay. It’s this big secret that builds up inside of you, screaming to get out … but you have to keep it inside so that nobody knows. And it’s the worst feeling ever, because it’s a part of you as much as the color of your eyes and the language you speak. But people would judge you for it, and bully you worse than you already have it and call you “fag” even though you could turn right back around and call them “straight.”
Yes, I’m gay. But there are more parts to the equation that makes up William O’Connor. I’m right-handed. I don’t believe in God, but I may believe in a higher power. I suck at sports. I have a lot of love to give. I like to think that I can be funny. It’s not fair tha
t all those aspects of me are wrapped up in a rainbow flag and that if I chose to peel back that layer and live with Pride, that I would be reduced to nothing more than “a gay”.
And it’s just salt in the wound that across the world a girl can have a crush on a guy, or a guy can have a crush on a girl, and there’s the chance that it will either work out or not … they can actually hope that it will. I am limited. I can’t hope. Because I can crush on any guy I want to, and it won’t make any difference. I could be madly in love with Daniel Clark, and it wouldn’t matter … not just because he loves Katie, but because I’m a boy, and so is he.
And that doesn’t seem fair.
“Sorry,” I said finally.
“Don’t worry about it,” he replied.
I needed to deflect the subject away from me. I felt bad enough as it was. “Uh, so what do your parents think about Katie?”
“Mercifully,” he told me as he started to smile again, glad to be moving on, “they’re happy for me. That’s the benefit to parents, huh? They’ve always got your back.”
Back to square one. “I guess. Um, my parents died when I was little, so I wouldn’t really know.”
Just as quickly as Daniel’s smile had reappeared, it was gone. He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Man, I’m really striking out tonight. Jesus, Will, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“That’s okay,” I told him. “I live with my aunt now; she’s the one I came here with. She’s like the coolest person ever.”
“That’s … nice.”
“They died in a fire,” I said, partially because I needed to tell someone and also because we were now far off the topic of love or the lack thereof. “I was seven.”
Daniel bit his lip, and his brow creased. He seemed at a loss for words.
“I was in the house. My dad saved me. He brought me outside and went back in for my mom.” I started choking up. “He … he—”
“Will, don’t.”
“And the house fell down around them.”
“Will …”
We had drifted off to the side of the boardwalk; there were only a few other people. I bent down and rolled up the leg of my jeans and showed Daniel my scar. I don’t know if he really saw it, because it was dark out, but I was on a roll, and everything was just pouring out of me.
“I got that from some burning debris that fell on me.” I heaved out a breath. “And that’s my story.”
“I’m so, so sorry,” Daniel moaned regretfully, running a shaking hand through his hair—his signature move of discomfort. I noticed that his eyes seemed watery, like he wanted to cry. Of course, I was being really freaky. Stupid me. Dumb, stupid me.
I laughed sadly. “No, I’m sorry. For bringing it up. I don’t know … maybe that ride threw me off balance or something. I don’t know.”
Then, to make everything so much worse, I saw her coming like some terrible, sinister monster. And as she leaped onto Daniel’s back, squealing in delight, surprising him with a kiss on the cheek … I felt a terrible sense of hatred well up inside of me. Despite my promise to Daniel, my mind had already been made.
“Hey, hottie,” she purred playfully against his jaw. The sound churned my stomach.
His hands were on her thighs, gripping them, supporting her. And Katie had her claws draped around his neck. “Hey,” he said.
“You don’t mind if I steal my boyfriend for the rest of the night, do you?” she asked me. And looking down at me from her throne on his back and in his good graces, I got the distinct impression that she didn’t particularly care if I gave her permission.
I felt myself shrugging, but my hands were clenched into tight fists at my sides. I forced out a painful smile. My eyes darted back and forth between her possessive glower and his bewildered expression. “Well, he’s your boyfriend … not mine. It’s Daniel’s choice.”
Daniel looked like he wanted terribly to say something to me. I could see the conflict in his eyes as his mouth opened and closed. I tried to believe that he truly wanted to stay with me and that he’d tell Katie to get lost, but she held the reigns in their relationship. Eventually, Daniel sighed. He looked tired and drained. “Uh, Will, I’ll see you tomorrow. Okay?”
“Sure,” I replied kindly. But inside, I was crumbling. I turned sharply on my heel and stalked away without another glance or saying anything more.
Seconds, minutes, hours later, I found myself thundering up the stairs into our apartment. The way back from the boardwalk was a complete blur; I could have run a marathon or had my first sexual encounter for all I knew.
“How was your thing?” Aunt Nellie asked from the couch.
“Fine.”
“Wha—”
“I’m going to bed,” I snapped.
I ran upstairs and ducked into my room. I just needed space. I needed time to be alone.
My emotions were bouncing off the walls. I didn’t know why I’d said the things I did. Why had I felt the need to talk about the fire? Why had the prospect of loneliness become too much?
I had no answer.
So I did the single most healing thing I could do: I whipped DJ the gorilla as hard as I could against the wall and then flopped myself heavily onto my bed.
And I cried. I sobbed so hard and so deeply I thought my lungs would burst. I cried until my eyes were sore, and the pillowcase was soaked. I cried for all the injustices that had been done against me and people like me. I cried for the simple and yet terribly complex, very adolescent reason that he just didn’t want me.
Once I had cried out all the pain, all the heartache, all the unfairness … I let the warm embrace of sleep take me.
And in my dreams that night, we kissed.
Chapter 14
Internet Pedophiles Love Me
It had been three weeks since my horrible, psychotic break/embarrassing emotional meltdown. I still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened to cause it; I just didn’t know why all of my emotions had whirled together into a dangerously powerful Molotov cocktail in my head.
But I had recovered, the knife scars on my heart buried under thick layers of Band-Aids, hidden away but always a dull throb. Yes, I still had feelings for Daniel. Yes, I was still lonely. Yes, I hated Katie Applegate. But would I let all those things ruin my summer? Well, probably. Though I would not go down without a fight.
In my first three weeks as a Seaside City-ite—Seasidian?—the List was becoming decorated with satisfying checkmarks. I was perfectly on schedule and making good time, and I was fairly certain that I would fulfill all my tasks …
Though I wondered if it would be worth it, or if in fact it could be. Because I would not find love; of that, I was thoroughly convinced. And that dull ache that had remained mostly dormant until the night of Funland would certainly plague me for the rest of my life.
Hannah wasn’t much help in the love department. Though she was totally fine with my sexuality (“I’m cool with it,” she insisted once. “It’s just that boys can be so … ugh sometimes, you know?”), she was no more of an expert in the gay scene than I was. She suggested one time that we go into the big city and find a gay bar or nightclub. I managed to talk some sense into her and said that even if we were of age, those places were surely overrun with big and scary (and hairy) bears. When she asked me what exactly a bear was, and I couldn’t really put my minimal knowledge on the subject into words, we found ourselves online. And let’s just say I wasn’t planning on becoming a “cub” any time soon.
Despite all her quirks (and she had a great deal of them, I promise), Hannah and I had truly become best friends. I was having fun all the time with her, which was something new for me. Being together made even spending the day at Monster Manor fun. I enjoyed the time we spent walking the boardwalk and pacing the beach, picking out the guys we thought were cute/hot/beautiful/gorgeous, and giggling over the shared eye candy. Quic
kly, I discovered that Hannah had a definite type: she went for the hunky jocks, the more muscle-bound the better.
Hannah and I talked about everything together: our worries and secrets and the dumb gossip we found out about. The only thing I kept to myself was my feelings for her brother … because … well, that was private. Even from her.
Daniel and I, it was safe to say, were friends. Just friends. And I told myself I was okay with that. We hung out, very seldom on our own, and that was that. End of story. Okay?
Even if Katie was a selfish and manipulative you-know-what, and her favorite pastime was hoarding Daniel’s attention and company for herself, I managed to get to know him better whenever she didn’t have her sickeningly dainty hands all over him.
Of course I’m exaggerating, and my loathing of her was undeserved. I hated her for having him. Sure, she was the rich girl with all the glitz and glamour that her family name afforded her. She was a little bitchy, but I guess you have to be bitchy when you’re under constant attack from the people your boyfriend surrounds himself with.
I didn’t want to feel bad for her … I really didn’t. And yet, because I’m such an amazing person at heart, I sometimes did. I wondered what it was that made her so possessive of Daniel. What caused her to boss him around and command his life?
And while Katie’s motivations were shrouded in mystery, Daniel’s were totally unclear. Why did Daniel love her? I mulled over that question as intensely as a twenty-first-century Socrates, to no avail.
Thinking about Daniel’s love life was so maddeningly frustrating! I reminded myself again and again that whomever he chose to be with, it was none of my concern. Except of course if he brought home some kind of insane ax-murderer … then I might have been a little bit worried.
Over those three weeks, my mental state was not the only thing to change. I was different physically too. I ran every morning, usually for an hour or more. I could go farther every day, as my legs grew stronger. I loved it, the rush of the wind against my face and through my lungs and the thundering pace of my heart.
The Big Summer Page 14