Jay's Gay Agenda

by Jason June

  I walked into the salon and was instantly enveloped by the smells of disinfectant and nail polish and peppermint foot scrub. They were the smells of Tough as Nails, the smells of home. One whiff of that mix of chemicals and floral scents, and image after image of laughing my head off with Lu in the pedicure chairs washed over me. Even if the salon was closing, we had to make more memories wherever life was going to take us. We had to.

  I ran to the office, ready to get Lu back, the giant boob bouncing with each hasty step. I gently knocked on the door and asked, “Can we talk?”

  No response.

  “Lu?” I knocked a tad louder.

  Still nothing.

  “Lu!” I yelled, slamming my fist on the door, extremely reminiscent of Dylan freaking out at Lambda Chi. “You are not going to let it end like this. You’re my best friend and I’m not going to let you go!”

  The door flung open. Lu’s chest heaved up and down, and her hair blew wild from the fan that whirred on the desk. She looked ready to kill.

  “I’m the one who let this end?” she yelled. “This is on you, Jay.” She jammed her finger into the padding covering my chest. “You dumped me for the hoedown. For a boyfriend who didn’t even exist! What is wrong with you?”

  I swallowed the shame that threatened to clog my throat. If we were ever going to get past this, I needed to own up to what a colossal dick I had been. “I got so caught up in the possibility of having boys in my life for the first time, Lu. I should have just told you up front that I didn’t want to go to the dance.”

  “This isn’t about the stupid fucking dance!” Lu’s face was as red as her hair. “This is about you thinking I’m some fragile female who needs protection. I’m not a helpless girl, Jay. Yes, our world may be cr—”

  Her voice caught, and suddenly it became impossible for me to swallow the lump in my throat anymore. She fought so hard to keep her head above water when she’d lost her phone, her boyfriend, her house, her parents, and she never quit. Lu was the strongest person I knew.

  “Our world may be crashing down around us, but you lying to me doesn’t help. I can handle harsh truths, Jay. I’ve been dealing with them my whole life. I can even handle losing all of this.” She motioned around at the salon, then stuttered again, this time unable to stop tears from pouring down her face. “But I never thought I’d lose you.”

  That’s when I lost all control. I wailed, complete with a spit bubble flying out of my mouth, and lunged forward to wrap Lu in my arms. It wasn’t as tight a hug as I wanted thanks to the boob bulge, but I got her as close to me as I could. “I’m so sorry.” The words sounded warped as I pushed them past my throat lump.

  “You should be,” Lu said, her face smooshed against my shoulder.

  “I am, Lu. I was completely wrong. I was—” I leaned back and pointed to the mass of fabric covering my torso. “A gigantic boob.”

  Lu looked down and laughed, wiping sadness snot on her sleeve. “That’s not quite big enough,” she said. “You were way more of a boob than that.”

  “I was.” I scooped her into another hug. “And I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.”

  A sob came from behind us. I turned to see Aunt Carol in one of the pedicure chairs clutching a box of Kleenex.

  “Carol?” Lu pushed past me to kneel next to her aunt.

  “Oh, don’t pay any attention to me.” She waved her tissue in the air. “I just couldn’t imagine the two of you not being friends anymore. It’s been breaking my heart.”

  I knelt on the other side of the chair and grabbed Lu’s hand over Aunt Carol’s lap, our tiny framily together again. “Mine too.”

  Lu looked at our hands, her black nails chipped, and gave a weak smile. “I’m sorry about Chip. I left you hanging there a few times over the summer, didn’t I?”

  “Yeah, but at least you were honest about it.” I thought of all the times I spent alone in my room, bingeing reality TV on my bed while Lu was crossing off relationship milestones of her own. She deserved to have those. Just like I did. But the difference was Lu was honest about needing them. Meanwhile, I tried to make everyone happy by keeping what I needed to myself. I guess the one thing everyone kept from me while they were hooking up was the extra steps it would take to maintain friendships while balancing romance and love and sex. “I can’t promise that I’ll be available for everything from here on out,” I said, “but I can promise I’ll never lie to you again.”

  “Agreed.” Lu shook my hand, sealing the deal. She glanced behind me, her gaze directed toward the shirtless firemen calendar Aunt Carol always kept hanging on the wall. That day, October 9, was circled, the word Hoedown written in Lu’s cursive, but with an angry red gash crossing it out.

  “You missed your homecoming,” Lu said.

  I looked around the salon, the second-most-familiar place in my life other than our log cabin: there were nail polish bottles piled high in boxes, a few pairs of those disposable pedicure sandals in the trash, and empty Diet Coke cans on the manicure station. Lu and Aunt Carol had been slowly packing up the salon, having to stomach that this chapter in their lives was closing. It had to have been an epically shitty past few weeks for Lu: betrayed by her boyfriend, by her best friend, by life. I could never let her down like that again. From here on out, Lu would always be a part of any list I ever made about what I wanted to do and who I wanted around me.

  “No, I didn’t,” I finally said, meeting Lu’s eyes. “I came home.”

  28.

  Start a Jay Agenda

  The dirt parking lot was full as I pulled Dad’s pickup into Blue Bluff Orchards. The huge Blue Bluff Blue Barn sat before us, row upon row of apple trees spreading out behind it. I always liked the order of this place, how clean and neat the trees all looked in perfect lines. It was one of the only places in Riverton that felt right to me, not just in how thoughtfully it was put together, but because it was the setting for all those great memories between me and Lu as we took home so many Best Costume awards. Hopefully I hadn’t messed everything up so badly that we couldn’t take home the trophy one more time.

  “You ready for this?” I asked, turning to my best friend.

  Lu slipped her half of the costume over her head, the red, round bulge smooshing against the dashboard. “Ready.”

  The greatest thing about the Great Behind was that it was versatile. When the two halves were spray-painted and pressed together, it looked just like an apple. Sure, the costume didn’t really fit the Roses Are Red, Violets Are Blue theme, but I hoped we might be able to get some sympathy points dressing as an apple at an apple orchard.

  We hopped out of the car to Lil Nas X and Billy Ray Cyrus’s “Old Town Road” thumping out of the open doors of the barn. Hearing the crowd go wild for a favorite country song and the sounds of their feet pounding against the wooden floorboards made my heart clench. Maybe Riverton had a bigger place in my soul than I’d initially thought. I might have fallen back on a stereotype of my own, thinking the country and gay guys don’t mix. It might not have been where I wanted to spend the rest of my life, but it was a part of me, the place I grew up, and the setting of so many memorable moments. In all the excitement about the Gay Agenda, I’d decided I could just forget Riverton entirely. But I realized then, that wasn’t what I wanted. If my first few weeks in my new life taught me anything, it was that sometimes you’ll make the wrong assumptions before you finally learn what’s right.

  I grabbed my half of the costume from the truck bed and threw it on. “Let’s do this.”

  Lu grabbed my hand, the familiar feel of her pointy nails pressing gently against my skin. Having her next to me after weeks apart put me at ease. We walked hand in hand toward the barn, the two halves of our costume seamlessly coming together to create a perfect apple. I was sure we still had a chance at the cash prize.

  We walked through the blue barn doors and the music stopped, Mayor Wilkins sashaying up to the stage in a rose-patterned dress. “Y’all look so great toni
ght,” she said. It was a funny thing how people who lived in the Inland Northwest country all their life had subtle Southern accents despite never having set foot in the South. “And I’m so excited to announce the winner of this year’s Hoedown Costume Contest. Congratulations, Bob and Jackie Andrews! Come get your cash!”

  We were too late. Bob and Jackie, the owners of the Andrews Green Nursery in Deer Park, took to the stage. Bob had on a suit covered in violets, and Jackie had on a skirt decked out with real rose petals. Their interpretation of the theme was pretty literal, but it probably took hours for them to glue each individual flower and petal.

  My heart sank as the Andrewses grabbed their envelope full of cash. Lu could have really used that right now.

  “Our winning streak is over,” I mumbled. “Gawd, Lu, I’m so sorry.”

  “I’m not.” Lu marched over to a table loaded with cider, a surprising spring in her step.

  “But what about the prize money?” I asked.

  Lu grabbed two cups and shoved one into my hands. “Do you seriously think that would have solved our problems?”

  “You could have used it for phone bills or paid part of the rent to get your trailer back or—”

  Lu cut me off by nudging my cider to my lips. “Jay, like I said before, I’m not a helpless female. I don’t need you to feel sorry for me. I just need you to be there by my side when things get tough.” She held her cup toward me, waiting for a cheers. “Deal?”

  It all seemed too easy. Like we could just brush the hard things aside, or power through life even if those things weren’t resolved yet. But over the past month, my initial instinct had been to fix everything for Lu and to decide what was best for Albert, and look where that got me. Sometimes the best solution for a tough situation was just to name it, to say how much things sucked or were weird or difficult, and to figure out how to move forward together. Even if that meant the suckiness and weirdness and difficulty wouldn’t change.

  So I decided to accept that our life was new, that it had difficulties we hadn’t expected before I moved away, and clicked my cup against Lu’s. “Deal.”

  “Besides,” Lu said, “Ruth Mortimer is going to let us stay in her RV. She may have antiquated ideas about how women should behave, but at least she has a heart for people going through rough times. Next year, things will be better.”

  She had a glint in her eye, something she hadn’t had for a while when talking about the future.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “Because you’re looking at the most recent winner of the Washington State College Journalism Association scholarship. My piece on the bus-driver gender pay gap won! I didn’t even know it’d been submitted, but the Riverton Reporter crew had my back. My first year of college is paid for as long as I stay in state and declare journalism as my major.”

  “Lu!” I lunged forward and pulled her as close as our apple would allow. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Lu rolled her eyes. “Because someone made it our MO to keep things from each other this year, remember?”

  “I deserved that.”

  “You did.” Lu chugged her drink and tossed the cup into the trash. “Now let’s hoedown!”

  We danced our asses off. Or I should say, we danced our apples off. We grapevined, we do-si-doed, we line danced. I might have become a city boy, but I was more than happy to get a little bit country from time to time.

  Between the dances and more cups of cider than you can count, we talked about everything. I told Lu about Albert and Max and Reese and how my boobery extended to them too. I told her about Tony and losing my virginity and how I had become this horny unleashed beast. I told her about Albert being able to share his soul with a kiss and how epic it would be when we had sex, but I definitely could and would wait for him. I told her about Mom and Dad and our new life and not missing Eastern Washington one bit, but missing Lu with every bit I was made of.

  Lu told me about how hard things had been, about sleeping in the back office with Aunt Carol, about just barely being able to keep themselves afloat. She told me with Ruth Mortimer’s help they’d have some space to get back on their feet. She told me how Aunt Carol was thinking she’d wait until Lu graduated, then move to Spokane and get a salon job there. And with her new scholarship, Lu was certain the year would turn out way better than it had started. I promised I would be there for her whenever she needed me. Always.

  We laughed until we were in tears, and we cried some real tears too, but thankfully people just thought our faces were dripping with sweat from dancing so hard. You could have made the sappiest montage of us holding one another, throwing honey sticks at each other, and laughing hysterically. Essentially, we were just like one of those cheesy movies where two estranged friends become besties again. I didn’t want it to end. But we eventually drove back to the salon, where neither of us could keep our eyes open. I woke up curled in a sleeping bag next to Lu in the back office.

  That feeling of contentment and ease from the night before wobbled. I knew I had to get back to Seattle. It’d be a nearly six-hour drive, and I still had some homework due the next day that I had to finish. If my grades dropped on top of the detention I’d received the past week, Dad would totally kill me. But what shook me hardest was having to be so far apart from Lu when we were heading into the rest of the most monumental year of our lives. It had already been a shaky start, and I wanted to get us on solid ground. If there was one thing I knew could do that, it was a list:

  LU LOVE LIST

  1.Digital Saturday sleepovers are reinstated immediately (with make-up days if something comes up).

  2.Instant updates on any new milestones (actual first boyfriends; major kissing moments; texts in ALL CAPS if anyone ever hears the L-word or says it to someone else).

  3.Apply to the same colleges together (allowing for this year to be just a small hiatus apart if we both get into the same school).

  It wasn’t as good as being face-to-face, but it was a start.

  “I think there’s now a permanent track of my snot on your shoulder,” I said to Lu as I pulled out of our final hug. The driver’s-side door to Dad’s pickup was open, but no part of me wanted to climb in and leave Lu again.

  “It almost matches my favorite color,” Lu said. She’d redone her manicure before we left for the hoedown, and she held her neon-green nails next to the streak. Yes, it was gross, but I’d have taken any and all snot talk to make the moment last longer.

  “Speaking of your favorite color . . .” I reached into the truck and pulled out the tote I’d made in Fashion Design. “I made you something.”

  Lu squeezed the bag to her chest. “I love it!”

  “There’s something inside,” I said.

  Lu pulled out the envelope and looked questioningly at the airline gift card inside. “What is this for?”

  “I know it won’t fix what’s been going on lately, but come visit me whenever you can take a weekend off from the diner. You deserve a break.”

  Lu leaped at me and flung her arms around my neck. We stood there in each other’s arms, and I realized it felt just as good as Albert’s kiss. Just as loving, just as tender, but in its own special way.

  Aunt Carol’s nose blowing practically sounded like an airhorn, bringing us back to reality. She watched us through the window with tears in her eyes, that box of Kleenex clutched in her hands again.

  “You can always depend on Carol to lighten the mood, can’t you?” Lu laughed softly and pointed toward the truck. “Okay. Get in there already. It’s not like this is goodbye.” She tapped the envelope with the gift card against my nose. “Boop.”

  “Seriously, come whenever you want,” I said. “Any time is a good time.”

  “Headline news: I love you, Jay.”

  I smiled. “Love you too, Lu.”

  JAY’S APOLOGY AGENDA

  1.Give Max a chance to redeem himself.

  2.Show Reese I actually have a heart.

  3.Let Albert know he’
s more than a list.

  4.Have Lu’s back again.

  The rain started as soon as I got over Snoqualmie Pass. It gushed the entire rest of the drive, an hour and a half in a torrential downpour. During the past week, the Seattle rain had really been reflecting my mood: dark and dreary. But that day, it felt different. Cleansing. Like the lying ass I had been was washed away so that I could just be Jay again. I’d been through a lot, grown a lot, done a lot that I had been fantasizing about for years as the statistical anomaly of the only out queer kid at RHS. But like my homecoming theme said, everything was so much clearer in hindsight. Turned out, I didn’t need a Gay Agenda, I just needed a Jay Agenda. Being gay was a part of me, and I deserved to experience and enjoy all those firsts. But being gay wasn’t the only part of me that mattered. I had old friends and new ones, parents who cared for me, a guy who I really liked and liked me back, a whole new city that still needed exploring, college applications—the list went on and on. And as the epic crash and burn of the Gay Agenda proved, life doesn’t always go as planned, even with a list. No matter what the universe threw my way, I just needed to remember to be me.

  “Jay and proud,” I said, and immediately cracked up. That was a Digimals name Albert would love.

  The rain still hadn’t let up when I finally made it back to Seattle. The neighborhood was packed, so I had to park a couple blocks away from our duplex, and of course I didn’t have an umbrella. I ran to the house as fast as I could, but when I turned into the walkway leading up to our doorstep, I stopped right in the middle of a puddle.

  A VSB was waiting under the awning at the front door, his back to me.

  “Albert.”

  He turned. “You’re soaking wet. Haven’t you learned yet you always need an umbrella in this city?” He grabbed a handle poking out of his jacket pocket and pulled out his brother’s Mario umbrella. Albert snapped it open and jogged toward me, bursts of water splashing around his feet with each step.

  “Mario always saves the day,” I said when Albert moved the umbrella over my head. The light coming through the red material tinged us both in a pink glow.