by Xavier Mayne
“Ethan and I were partners for two years, and best friends for a year and eleven months of that before we ever even touched each other. I probably would have been ready to marry him even if we hadn’t started having sex—I just couldn’t imagine my life without him in it.”
“That’s really sweet. I guess I figured that since you grew up trying to be straight, it would be understandable that you would hang on to the first guy you were intimate with. But you went about it the other way round. Good for you.”
“So, you’re glad you didn’t end up with the first guy you slept with.” He met Sandler’s eye. “Do tell.”
Sandler smiled. “Gabriel Donnelly, you know a gentleman would never tell such things.” He consulted his cards insouciantly. “You’re fortunate I’m not a gentleman.”
Donnelly put his cards down and settled himself back in the creased leather of the old train seat, all rapt attention. “As my dear, somewhat excitable, friend Bryce would say, ‘Give, girl!’”
Sandler burst out laughing. “You may have his line down, but until you can deliver it with a sassy snap, I imagine you haven’t captured his essence.”
Donnelly’s mouth dropped open. “You’ve… met Bryce?”
“We’ve all met Bryce. It’s like Article 3 of the Gay Agenda: Every gay community shall be issued a man so fabulously flamboyant that his mere presence causes the Kinsey scale to bend back upon itself into a perfect circle of glittering queerness, which he shall wear as his tiara. He shall ascend his throne and from a great height judge everyone who comes before him—and their shoes.”
“So you have met Bryce.” Donnelly chuckled as he shook his head in disbelief. “Anyway, you had a story to tell.”
“Yes, I promised you that. Let’s see.” Sandler gathered the cards and shuffled them idly as he spoke. “It was my sophomore year in high school, almost at the end. The spring musical, Hello, Dolly!, had just finished its two-week run—you’re sitting across from the greatest Cornelius Hackl ever to grace the stage of Eleanor Roosevelt Senior High, I’ll have you know—and summer was just around the corner. It’s trite to say that in spring a young man’s fancy turns to thoughts of love, but this young man’s fancy was turning all right. All the damn day and night.”
“Let me guess,” Donnelly interjected. “You and Barnaby missed the cast party on account of being otherwise entangled?” He raised an eyebrow in good-natured insinuation.
“No, though Barnaby did make it clear he was available. As did several of the waiters at the Harmonia Gardens. But I was at that perverse age when I didn’t want anyone who wanted me. You know how teenagers can be—always pining for what they can’t have and turning their noses up at everything within reach.”
Donnelly nodded. “Just another thing to look forward to.”
Sandler gasped dramatically. “Are you telling me that you have to get married, Officer Donnelly? That there’s a little Gabriel on the way?”
“Shut up,” Donnelly replied, smacking Sandler’s elbow across the table. “Now, let’s get back to you being all horny for what you can’t have.”
“Ah, yes. What I couldn’t have went by the name of Trevor Hendricks. Oh, man, I rubbed myself raw nightly thinking of every move he made. He had gone to another junior high, so I didn’t know the world contained such wonders until the first day of freshman year when I saw him across a crowded lunch room. He was beautiful, and so damn smart. I studied myself into exhaustion so I’d be placed in the advanced classes with him. Sophomore year I switched my whole schedule around so we’d have gym together. That was when I had to start stockpiling Vaseline under my bed, because he changed clothes next to me every day after PE, and I couldn’t get to sleep until I had worked that out of my head and collapsed into a wet heap.” Sandler looked up at Donnelly. “Sorry, too graphic?”
Donnelly shook his head. “You have a way with words. Please, don’t be delicate on my account—you have already turned compulsive adolescent masturbation into something close to poetry. I can hardly wait to hear what happens when you and Trevor finally get to it.”
“Alas, Trevor didn’t seem to know I existed. Actually, I’m not sure he knew other people existed in general. He was polite to a fault; he would answer questions, or discuss an assignment, but then he would just fall silent. He had no idea he was so beautiful, no idea that his voice was my own personal Viagra. It wasn’t just that he kept to himself; no one I talked to ever saw him outside of school at all. It’s like he walked to school and then walked back home and that was it. So the last Friday of the school year, I decided to make my move. I stationed myself outside the school and pretended I just ran into him randomly. I had some questions prepared about the final exam for our honors chemistry class—I was barely passing—and he gave me answers that I mostly understood as we walked toward his house. I probably would have comprehended more if his sparkling blue eyes hadn’t caused my brain to reboot every time he looked at me.
“So pretty soon we’re at his house, and we walk up to his porch. He turns to me, and suddenly he’s a completely different person. He smiles at me so sweetly, and invites me in to get a snack. He even holds the door open for me. Like, just when I thought he couldn’t get any more amazing, he suddenly breaks out this suave gentleman act. I smile and walk in as smoothly as I could with a sudden erection snaking down the leg of my jeans.”
Donnelly laughed, then clapped a hand over his mouth. “See? I was right—the dirtier it gets, the more fun it is. Please, continue.”
Sandler nodded his thanks for the compliment. “So we go into his house, and he leads me into the kitchen, which is seriously like the set of a cooking show, and sets his backpack on a chair. Then he turns to me and holds out his hand. I have no idea what he wants me to do, but then he nods toward my backpack, so I hand it to him and he puts it on the chair next to his. Like, snuggled up next to his. All I can think was how I hope I will get as lucky as my damn backpack. But before my book bag has a chance to make a move on his, he starts asking me questions about what I’m allergic to. He’s standing in front of the fridge throwing questions full of words like ‘lactose intolerant’ and ‘gluten sensitivity’ over his shoulder. I tell him I can eat anything, anything at all, anything he might want to feed me—I kind of blather a bit, tossing every bit of innuendo I can summon up on the spur of the moment. And then it happens. He swivels his head around and gives me the Look. You know, the one that tells you the person you’ve been flirting with understands what’s going on, and he’s not entirely opposed. And maybe a little into it. But then again, Gabriel, you’re already so married you probably have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“I’m not dead yet, mister. Please, go on.”
“Glad to hear that. So he turns back to the fridge and starts pulling stuff out, and in like five minutes he’s made this amazing sort of… salad? I don’t know what to call it. I think there was quinoa. Anyway, it’s delicious. So we sit there in his kitchen and eat and drink some Italian sparkling water, and we just talk. For like an hour, maybe two. He tells me everything I’d ever wanted to know about him, and because he’s like a super sweet guy he keeps asking me questions and then actually listening to the answers. Then his dad gets home and comes into the kitchen, and he seems absolutely stunned that Trevor has a friend over—or has a friend at all, for that matter. Trevor introduces me, and he shakes my hand and keeps looking at me like he can’t believe I’m really in his house. Then Trevor says, ‘Sandler had some questions about the chemistry final, so we’re going to my room now,’ and he gets up and leads me down the hall to his bedroom. He shuts the door behind us, and I turn to see he’s got this look on his face that I’ve never seen before. I mean, he’d already shown me a new Trevor in the kitchen, but this one’s different again. His eyes kind of burn through me, and he takes a step toward me so aggressively that I actually take a step back. I’m completely flummoxed now, and I blurt, stupidly, ‘We forgot our books in the kitchen.’ And he just grins at me, this sexy hot
smile that makes my knees turn to rubber, and shakes his head slowly. He takes another step toward me and this time I don’t step back.”
Sandler shuffled the cards. Donnelly sipped his coffee and waited, silently.
“Well?” Donnelly finally asked.
“Well, then we kiss. It’s the first time I’ve ever kissed anybody, and I have no idea what I’m doing. But it’s the most innocent, slow, loving kiss I’ve ever experienced, even to this very day. I stand there, my arms around this guy I’d never even shaken hands with, tasting his sweet lips, and can hardly believe this is my life. All my dreams, even the ones I was too inexperienced to wish for, come true in that moment. The kiss lasts forever, and still I don’t want it to end. Finally, his hands slip down from where they’ve been, wrapped around my neck, stroking the little hairs on the back of my head, and he pulls back a little. He stands there, looking into my eyes, and he’s crying. Tears well in his eyes and start running down his cheeks. ‘What’s wrong?’ I ask him, terrified that now I’ve finally managed to kiss a boy I’ve clearly fucked it up so badly that the guy is reduced to tears. He just shakes his head, and whispers, ‘Thank you.’ I ask him what he’s thanking me for, and he just says, ‘For making me real.’”
Donnelly drew in a sudden breath. “That’s… sad. And so beautiful.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Sandler replied. “Not at the time, of course. I didn’t have much time to think anything because at that moment, Trevor leans in for another kiss, and I’m about to find out what sex is like, and then his bedroom door flies open and his mom and dad are both standing there, gaping at us. And then the shrieking starts. Holy hell that man could scream. His mom just stares at us with her arms crossed and her eyes shooting out flames. She tells me—in a voice that would make Satan soil himself—that I need to get out of their house that very instant, and I do, because she was a scary, scary woman. The last thing I hear as Mr. Hendricks hurls my backpack at me is Trevor calling out that he’s sorry. I ran out their front door, and I didn’t stop running until I was eight blocks away just in case she sent flying monkeys after me.”
Sandler, a bit winded, took several deep breaths, then seemed to calm himself by shuffling the cards again.
“So that was your first time?” Donnelly asked, tipping his head sympathetically.
Sandler chuckled, shaking off the intensity of the story he’d told. “No, that wasn’t it. Once I was sure Mrs. Hendricks wasn’t going to swoop down on her broom and smite me, I started to think about how unfair life was turning out to be for sixteen-year-old me, so I decided right then and there that I wasn’t going to take it lying down. I knew where I had to go and what I had to do.”
Donnelly sat back in surprise. “You turned around and confronted the Hendrickses about their homophobic reaction?”
“Oh hell no. I went and fucked Barnaby until neither of us could walk.”
Donnelly’s mouth dropped open, and though he was able, eventually, to close it, it dropped open again. Finally, he was able to find words. “I did not see that coming.”
Sandler shook his head and held his hands up. “Like I said, sixteen-year-old drama. I was so freaked-out by what had happened at Trevor’s, and still so horned up because of what had happened at Trevor’s, that I needed to get it out of my system. Barnaby had expressed interest in the past, and when I showed up at his house, he was still interested. And so he was my first. I was nowhere near even his dozenth—guy was a total slut. But he was up for it, and he showed me what to do. And I did it. And then did it again. And then one more time. I stumbled out of his house half an hour after I walked in, no longer a virgin and no longer having any self-respect when it came to sex. Never even saw Barnaby again—he was a senior, and he graduated and moved somewhere out West for a theater program of some kind. Last I heard he was an understudy for some B-list actor in a touring company of some show everyone’s already seen.”
“Ah, so that’s what you meant about not having a future with the first guy you slept with,” Donnelly said. “But what about Trevor?”
A sad smile appeared on Sandler’s face. “Ah, Trevor. Yes. Well, the next week after the chemistry final, he asked me to come with him before heading to the cafeteria for lunch, and we ducked into a classroom down the hall that was empty. He said his parents had come unglued and made him tell them that what had happened between us was a mistake, and that it would never happen again. I asked him if that’s what he wanted, and he said no. Then he kissed me again. And my world started turning again. And I knew in that moment that I would never love anyone the way I loved him.”
“That’s so sweet,” Donnelly said with a smile. “Good for you.”
“Yeah, it was good. For a while. All that summer and through junior year we snuck around, seeing each other whenever we could, staying one step ahead of his parents—my parents had pretty much already given up on me and didn’t much care what I got up to. I hated sneaking around, but that year we had together… well, it was the happiest of my life. Every day I learned something new about him that made me love him more. Even though a bunch of our friends and some teachers knew about us, we managed to keep it from his parents because they were basically hermits, like Trevor used to be. I felt like the luckiest guy in the world. Then the night of the junior prom, our luck ran out. We’d arranged to double-date with a couple of girls who were also keeping their relationship secret from their parents, and it was the first time we’d ever been actually able to be together without having to hide from Trevor’s parents. It was awesome. And then….”
Sandler looked to the side, as if he could see landscape passing by a window that wasn’t there. He sighed.
Donnelly waited patiently, seeing the emotions storm across Sandler’s face. He put his hands on Sandler’s, which had fallen still, cards frozen in midshuffle. No words, but a gesture that spoke them all.
Sandler took a deep but shaking breath. “We were driving home from the dance, and Trevor was holding my hand and smiling at me the whole way. God, he was beautiful—all the more in the tux that fit him perfectly. There was a warm summer breeze blowing through the window, even that late at night, and a lock of his hair flopped down over his eye. I reached over to lift it, so I could see his eyes sparkling at me for as long as I could make this evening last, when suddenly he wasn’t there anymore. The whole side of the car wasn’t there anymore.”
Donnelly’s hands flew up to his mouth, and he gasped in shock.
“A couple of our classmates decided to celebrate prom by racing their trucks down a stretch of highway with their lights off. They had just stopped and were arguing about who had won when I slammed into the back of a truck that was blocking the road. Sliced my car in half, and the part with Trevor in it crumpled up so that the engine was where the passenger seat used to be. He was wearing his seat belt, and the airbag did its thing, but he was thrown around pretty badly. I woke up in the hospital the next afternoon, and he’d already been taken by helicopter to the university hospital several hours away.”
“Was he okay?”
Sandler shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“What… what does that mean?” Donnelly asked.
“He was in a coma for several months after the accident—that much I know. But once his parents found out from the police report that we’d been riding in the front seats together, they could do the math. Then our dates for the evening, both of whom were banged up but not seriously injured, decided that their brush with death was a sign that they needed to live truthfully. They came out, and that was all the Hendrickses needed to know. They never let me see him. They wouldn’t even tell me whether he survived or came out of the coma. They sold their house and moved to the city where they could hold vigil at Trevor’s side. That night, when I brushed the hair out of his eyes, was the last time I ever saw him.”
Tears were running down Donnelly’s face. “I can’t imagine how much you suffered,” he whispered.
“It’s not a story I tell,” Sandle
r said softly. “That year is like a chapter from someone else’s life. For years after I think I actually convinced myself that it never happened. It was the only way I could deal with the loss. I think it would have been easier to deal with, really, if he’d been killed in the accident. That way I could remember him as perfect and beautiful, and know that he didn’t linger on in a vegetative state, his body punctured by tubes and bound with wires.”
“And they never let you know what happened to him?”
Sandler shook his head. “Not sure I want to know at this point.” He began shuffling the cards again, as if the motion distracted him from the pain of recollection.
“But there’s a chance, isn’t there, that he recovered?”
Sandler shrugged sadly. “Here’s how I think about it. If he died, then he’s gone, and there’s nothing anyone can do. I mourned, and the only healthy thing for me to do is move on. If he is still in a coma, then there’s no way for me to reach him, and even if I could, he wouldn’t know I was there. And if he recovered, then he could have found some way to let me know in the ten years since the accident. Three options, all of which lead to the same reality: I’ll never see him again.”
Donnelly looked for a long moment into the sad face of his new friend. “What if I could find out? Would you want to know?”
Sandler took in a sharp breath, then blew it out slowly, a long sad sigh. He made no answer.
“I won’t if you don’t want me to. But I could ask for a records check, see if anything comes up.”
“I spent years wishing I could find out, but with no money to hire an attorney or an investigator or whatever, I figured there was nothing I could do. By the time I could have, I’d pretty much come to the conclusion that it’s better not to know.” He looked at his hands, as if watching them shuffle. “But maybe it’s time to find out. Clearly the universe has brought us together for good reasons, and perhaps this is one of them. I’ll have to think about it. Thank you for the offer, though.” Sandler toyed with the cards in his hand idly. “You just kind of show up in people’s lives and help them, don’t you?”
