She smiled and laughed. “Yes, I think so.”
“I’m glad.”
“And, Will,” she said, “about Daniel—”
“Doesn’t matter,” I said. “He’s better off with someone else. He doesn’t need me. He’s gorgeous. He can do way better than me. And—”
Then she slapped me. She actually slapped me across the face. I could almost hear the studio audience gasping as my jaw dropped and I looked dumbly at her.
“What did you just finish telling me?” she demanded. “You need a dose of your own medicine, bro. Not only is he good enough for you … but you are exactly what he needs. He needs someone to love and to love him back. He needs you. Not some brain-dead fitness model and certainly not Katie Applegate. He needs you, Will.”
“He …”
“Needs you,” she said again. “He needs you, Will … Will … Will …”
What she was saying just wasn’t registering with me. It was easy enough to give advice to someone and to instill a sense of self-worth in them. Doing it for yourself wasn’t as simple. I’d programmed myself not to believe those kinds of things. Everything inside of me was screaming bloody murder. She was lying. She had to be lying.
Putting myself down had become habitual. I had made a mantra out of my feelings of worthlessness, repeating the words over and over again like a self-destructive monk until the ideas imprinted themselves into the DNA of my cells. I never sought an escape from the shadow of my own lack of confidence … it was safe.
And now I was faced with this maddening whirlwind of a situation, stuck between a rock and hard place and held back by years of training in the art of self-depreciation.
I remembered being a broken boy after my parents died and the years of silence that followed. Friends who used me as comic relief, belittling me and making me feel like shit every day. Years of hiding in a closet, ashamed of who I was … I never even got to come out to my parents. Now it’s too late. They died without getting to hear their son proudly proclaim, “I’m gay!” There were so many regrets in my life. Too many regrets. I would not let Daniel become the latest one.
There was a spark of rebellion inside of me. A confident Will, buried beneath years of repressed anger, was viciously clawing his way into the light. It was the same part of me that had embarked on The Big Summer.
A connection must have snapped into place in my brain, the wires sparking as they fit together, and suddenly it all made sense. I had the eye-opening epiphany that for someone to love me, I had to first love myself. I had to respect my own right to happiness … and happiness would ensue.
“I-I’m … good enough,” I choked out. “I am good enough. I deserve to be happy. I’m entitled to live the life I want to live.”
“Wha—”
I stood up. “I can look in the mirror and pick out my flaws … but I can also embrace them and see the beauty there too. Bad hair days don’t have to be bad days. I don’t have to fit the mold … because there is no mold, no equation for perfection. I’m not going to compare myself to others. I’m allowed to feel bad sometimes, but I’m also allowed to feel good. If people don’t like me, that’s their right. But I’m done giving a damn what anybody thinks of me, because it’s what I think about myself that matters. And … and if I want to fall head over heels in love with an amazing guy, if I want someone to kiss and cuddle, if I want someone whose hand fits into mine …” I blinked away the moisture beading in my eyes. “I get to have that. I get to live and love and laugh and be okay with me. Because I’m good enough … for me.”
I was breathing heavily, my head light and my hand shaking against my thigh. Nibbling on my lip, I was staring at the wall with such intensity that I was surprised I didn’t burn a hole in the wallpaper.
Hannah stood up without saying anything, coming up behind me and taking my hand. I looked around at her and nodded firmly. “Hannah … I need you to help me get him back.”
“Yeah … about that,” she muttered reluctantly. “That’s one of the reasons I came here to talk to you.”
“Um, okay?”
She looked nervous. “Will, uh, Daniel is leaving town the day after tomorrow.”
I blinked in surprise, not digesting what she was saying. It was the beginning of August, nowhere near back-to-school time. “He’s … he’s what?”
“Mr. Applegate is dropping Daniel off at his school on the way to bring Katie back to hers. Katie apparently told her dad that she wanted to get back in the proper mindset for school or something. Obviously, she just wants to get back to the real party scene and her dark magic classes. And Daniel made up some bullshit excuse to my parents,” Hannah said with a frown. “But I think you and I know the real reason why he wants to get out of here.”
“It’s my fault,” I grumbled.
“No … sorry, that sounded terrible.” Then she started giggling, pressing a hand to her mouth. “Really, though, it kinda totally is your fault.”
I shrugged and laughed it off. “Basically.”
“So because you ran my brother out of town,” she grinned, “our mission is now time sensitive.”
“One day.”
Hannah nodded. “Yes. Tomorrow is your window of opportunity to win him back over or he leaves with Katie. So … what’s the plan?”
“I’m going to try.”
“You’re going to try?”
“Yeah,” I told her. “The new me—ugh, that sounds so pretentious—is going to try to get him back. ”
“And if that doesn’t work?” Hannah asked timidly.
I shrugged. “I’m assuming at that point that we would move onto Plan B, right? We’d have to take drastic measures, and that’s your department.”
“I like the sound of that.” She chuckled. “I’ll break out the heavy artillery. Do you have a preference for either waterboarding or bamboo splinters under the fingernails?”
“I would like my man in one piece, thank you very much.”
“Ugh,” she said, pointing a finger down her throat. “Never call my twin brother ‘my man’ around me again.”
“Noted.”
Then Hannah pulled me into a hug. “You’ll get him back.”
“Promise?” I asked, like a little kid making sure his mommy and daddy weren’t going to leave him with the babysitter forever.
She nodded into my shoulder. “I promise. But you know, Special Agent Hannah isn’t really on board with the whole trying plan. So we’re gonna do this my way … drastic measures, like you said.”
“All right.”
“Good.”
“I think I love him,” I said.
Hannah let out a breath. “I know. And I think he loves you too.”
12. Have an awesome birthday!
Chapter 19
The Pants that Hugged My Ass
In a strange, twisted, and warped version of the stereotype, Hannah (the straight girl) was taking me (the sassy gay best friend) shopping. Surprising as it may be, I did not look cutely trendy every time I made a public appearance. I did not own a single patterned short-sleeved button-up or a pair of suspenders, nor did I have in my possession even one bowtie (gasp!).
The world of male fashion was totally foreign to me. I had two pairs of jeans (not the skinny ones, trust me) and maybe some ill-fitting sweatpants in the back of a drawer somewhere. I didn’t understand the whole concept of sea-green corduroys tucked into distressed leather boots or whatever. Man-purses … sorry, satchels … were out of the question.
And so, with a hugely gleeful smile, Hannah had pronounced, “I’m giving you a makeover!” This, apparently, was her idea of taking drastic measures.
Luckily for us, a mere thirty minutes away was the apparent consumers’ heaven that was Atlantic City, New Jersey.
“Literally every store you can think of has an outlet there,” she told me while we rode t
he bus. “I’m telling you, the prices are amazing! It feels like robbery.”
“I’m glad,” I said, wincing at the funky scent of egg that wafted off the old woman sitting next to me. “I’m only allowing myself two days’ worth of pay for this.”
“Oh, setting limits for yourself.” She chuckled. “You’ll make a great gambler.”
“Now that you mention it, we could always get some fake IDs and squander all of my money at the slots,” I told her.
“Tempting … but I’d rather you not lose all your money to a machine so that you can spend it looking like a super-sexy hipster to seduce my brother.”
Ancient egg-lady next to me went tsk-tsk.
“You don’t think it’s a little … I don’t know, hypocritical?” I asked. “I mean, I want him to like me for me and not for the way I look.”
The old woman’s grip on her two-dozen plastic bags tightened a little, and she shifted in her seat.
Hannah narrowed her eyes at me. “Will, he does like you for who you are. But my idiotic brother pulled the asshole move of the century when he gave you up … and I kinda went along with it, but that’s beside the point. I’m going to make you absolutely gorgeous to show him what he’s missing.”
The still-living corpse to my right let out a passive-aggressive sigh. I turned to her. “I’m sorry, ma’am, is there a problem?”
She sucked in a breath and started to say, “The Lord says that a man—”
“I’m really sorry to interrupt your undoubtedly fascinating sermon of hatred,” Hannah told her. “But I’m in the middle of coaching my friend on how he’s going to get my gay brother to want to suck his d—”
“Hannah,” I cut her off sternly. She shot me a look as I turned to face the old woman. I smiled sweetly at her. Then I said in my “gayest” voice, “Sorry, ma’am … it’s just that my friend and I are trying to figure out how to get my soon-to-be boyfriend to give me a blowjob before we get to the wildly passionate and mind-blowing anal intercourse.”
Her mouth opened and closed in shock and revulsion, and Hannah and I laughed ourselves silly until the bus pulled up to the terminal, and the old woman disappeared out the door the second it opened, some of her bigoted potatoes tumbling out of her grocery bags.
. . .
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“Yes!”
“N—”
“Yes, you studly piece of ass!”
We were in the changing rooms of some store or other; I wasn’t quite sure of the name, but I knew that I often associated the brand’s name with general doucheyness.
“This is so not me,” I protested, scowling at my very trendy reflection in the mirror. I looked like I’d stepped off of the high school hipster/bohemian runway.
“Exactly,” she told me exasperatedly. “It’s the new you!”
I groaned and stomped my boot-clad foot like an angry six-year-old. “But like,” I gestured spastically at myself, “meh!”
“Tell me what’s wrong with this,” she said exasperatedly, turning me by the shoulders to face the mirror.
I rolled my eyes at myself. Okay, the caramel-colored skinny slacks did hug my legs in a flattering way, constricting my flesh as they tapered at the bottom into the faded (faux) leather boots. Sure, the fitted, red plaid button-down lent some breadth to my shoulders. All right, the white T-shirt underneath was exquisitely offset by the hobo-chic necklace (distressed old key hanging from a leather cord).
“It’s not … terrible,” I admitted, shrugging my now shapely shoulders. It was way different, but that was the point … right?
“Except for this hideous thing,” Hannah said, flicking at the necklace. The key thudded heavily against my chest. “This thing gets burned. I’m almost ashamed to be friends with someone who considers that thing nice. I don’t know why on earth you picked it out. To be honest, Will, I thought you were better than that.”
“Guys wear necklaces.” I frowned at her, before tugging the offending piece of jewelry from my neck.
“No,” she replied disappointedly. “Rings are okay, but anything dangly is a big no-no.”
“Can I go get changed now?” I whined.
She sighed dramatically. “I suppose.”
“Good,” I muttered, slipping back into the private stall. “These pants are so tight you can see my balls!”
“I’ll see ’em when you grow ’em,” Hannah laughed from the other side.
. . .
All in all, I had spent closer to four days of my hard-earned salary. This was due to the fact that Hannah had taken me into literally every store. And once the wallet flaps had opened, they were very difficult to close again.
In any case, the new clothes did nothing to stop my heart from jackhammering away at my ribcage. My hand flew self-consciously to pat at my hair. It felt weird. Hannah had taken me to a swanky salon, where an abrasive redhead had chopped away at my “clean-cut” locks as per Hannah’s directions. I was left with a close-cropped look and longer bangs tousled up a bit with a few gobs of styling product.
“I feel ridiculous,” I hissed as we hopped out of her mother’s car late that afternoon. “We’re going to the beach for God’s sake. I don’t think I can even sit down in these pants!”
“Oh, quit whining. Even if your pants do rip, just consider it a bonus.”
I frowned. “How so?”
“Because Daniel will be able to see your lovely new underwear.” She winked, grabbed my hand, and pulled me along with her.
The rickety boardwalk creaked beneath our feet as we passed through the thin grove of trees. My palms felt clammy with nerves, and I tried to focus on the rise and fall of my lovely new shoes to distract myself.
“Ready?” Hannah whispered, squeezing my hand.
I gave a noncommittal grunt, and we emerged onto the beach. On the surface, it looked the same as it had on the day Daniel had attempted to teach me how to surf. And yet, it had changed because so had I. Last time, I had been filled with a sense of wonder that was directly tied to having a day alone with Daniel. Now, the beach reflected my desperation; the sea churned roughly, the sky was steely, and a cool wind whipped in from the bay.
A large bonfire roared nearby to the tree line, spitting sparks into the air and crackling as the wind blew. My friends surrounded the flames, sitting on coolers and laughing.
“We’re here!” Hannah called, tugging me along. I cringed as my shoes sunk into the sand.
Emma leaped to her feet and bounded over to us, wrapping me in a tight embrace. Blake and Michael were cooler about it, coughing awkwardly and offering quick and manly hugs. I wondered if they felt uncomfortable around me given what they had learned about me.
“Daniel texted me,” Emma said. “He’s on his way … and he’s bringing her.”
“Typical,” Hannah said with a look of disgust.
“And,” Emma added, grinning at me, “he doesn’t know you’re going to be here.”
“Perfect,” I muttered.
Blake chuckled and thumped me on the shoulder. “You’re in for a good time, huh?”
“Well, that’s the eventual plan.”
“Oh my God, I missed this kid,” Blake said as my friends laughed. His arm was draped over my shoulder, and I became concerned that he would spontaneously flex his bicep and snap my spine.
“I, uh, missed you guys too,” I muttered with a thin smile.
Their smiles faded into guilty expressions. Blake let me go, and nobody would meet my eyes. Emma toed at the sand and fiddled with the edge of her ripped denim shorts.
“We wanted to say that we’re really sorry, Will. We were stupid and mean,” Emma said softly. “It was a messy situation, but that’s no excuse.”
“Yeah, man, we really messed up,” Blake agreed. “You’re our friend t
oo, and we shouldn’t have just flaked out on you like that.”
Michael smiled tentatively. “But we’re here for you now, and we’re gonna help you get him back.”
“You guys … know? About, well, me?” I asked weakly.
“We had a little powwow,” Hannah told me. “Everyone’s on board.”
I gulped, looking back and forth between all of my friends. “And you’re all … okay with it? You’re not weirded out or anything?”
“Well, I’m a little pissed that I wasted valuable time obsessing over a guy who was never going to go for me.” Emma winked. “But I guess it’s reassuring to know that it wasn’t my awesome flirting tactics that were to blame.”
“They almost worked,” I promised.
“We’ve got a cousin who’s gay.” Blake nodded at his brother. “Me and Michael have always been cool with that stuff. Despite what Emma would like to think about me, I’m not a total football-jock asshole.”
Emma rolled her eyes and smirked, slinking up next to Blake and settling under his arm. I had to wonder if their activities from the night of the party had continued in the time since I’d last seen them.
“And you and Daniel make a really cute couple.” We all turned to look at Michael, who merely shrugged. “What? It’s true!”
“Thank you,” I mumbled. “All of you. It, um, really means a lot to me.”
“If all the sappy friendship stuff if done,” Hannah said, “I think we should focus on the mission at hand. As Michael so eloquently put it, Will and Daniel do make a very cute couple. So our task tonight is to remind my brother of all the things he likes about Will and, hopefully, to rid ourselves of Katie Applegate once and for all.”
“Amen, sister!” Emma exclaimed.
Blake frowned. “What exactly is the plan?”
“First and foremost, we let Daniel be aroused by Will with his fancy new look.” Hannah turned to me and said, “No offense. You were a total catch before, but like … look at you now.”
“No offense taken,” I told her. “I think.”
“Then, once we have him stunned … we let things play out for the rest of the night. We play it cool, as if nothing at all has happened. We show Daniel all the fun and happiness he’s missing out on.”
The Big Summer Page 21