Out of Frame

by Megan Erickson

  “I’m not straight,” I said finally. “I’m bi, actually.”

  Quinn’s face was frozen in this weird purgatory between shock and confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I’m bi.”

  “You’re bi.”

  “Yeah.”

  “But you’re . . . not out?”

  This was where shit got complicated. I placed my hands on my hips and looked down the deck of the ship. The chairs were perfectly aligned, the floor clean. The opposite of my life.

  I sank down onto an empty lounge chair facing the ocean and braced my feet on the end of the chair, resting my forearms on my bent knees, my head back so all I saw was sky.

  There was a scraping sound, a jolt as Quinn’s chair met mine, and then he sat beside me. I felt his gaze on the side of my face for a moment until he, too, turned to scan the cloudless sky.

  I silently thanked him for letting me tell my story to the few seagulls that flew overhead in front of us. I wasn’t sure how I would have gotten it all out while looking into his eyes.

  “I’m not sure how to answer whether I’m out or not. I always knew I liked girls, and in middle school, I started noticing my attraction to guys. It took a long time for me to sort out that I wanted to be friends with guys and fuck ’em, I guess.” I laughed at that, and when I glanced at Quinn, he was turned on his hip, facing me, those blue eyes not missing a thing. I continued my conversation with the sky. “But it took me longer to realize not everyone thought like me, you know? I made an odd comment to my brother, and instead of brushing it off, he talked me through it, and that was when I realized not everyone looked at the world like I did. That there were people who looked at women one way and men another. I wasn’t like that.”

  I took a deep breath and felt a bead of sweat roll down my temple. “Where we grew up, people weren’t gay and they certainly weren’t what I was, so I kept my attraction to guys on the back burner and dated girls. It was okay, but I hated not exploring that part of me, you know? Even though I really liked the girls, I felt like I was lying to them. They’d be like, ‘Oh damn, that Idris Elba is fine,’ and I wanted to be like, ‘Fuck yeah, I know, right? I’d hit that.’”

  Quinn laughed, and I turned to him with a smile. “So when I graduated and moved to California to try to act, I . . . met guys. Who liked guys. I’d date girls, too, and I was open about being bi. For once in my life I felt fucking liberated. It wasn’t just that I could date guys now, it was that I could say out loud who I was, you know?”

  Quinn didn’t move a muscle, and then slowly, his fingers trembling, he reached over and took my hand, threading our fingers together. He rested them on the chair’s arm between us. I squeezed once. He squeezed back. He didn’t speak, like he knew I had more to say. I wiped my hand across my forehead. “And then I made a mistake. A big, dumb one. But I was young and impressionable. I got an agent and he told me about Trip League. But he said they didn’t want another gay guy. They already had a gay guy. And man, fucking forget putting a black queer on a show, you know? We’d blow people’s minds. People’d rather assume unicorns exist.” I heard the venom in my voice and realized I was squeezing Quinn’s hand too hard when he made a sound. “Sorry,” I said, relaxing my muscles.

  “It’s okay,” he whispered back. “It’s really okay.”

  “So I signed a contract saying I was straight and that I’d stay that way.”

  “J. R. Shit.”

  His voice was incredulous, and I had to make him see. I needed him to understand. “Look, I grew up a middle-class black kid in Jersey surrounded by white people. I was used to compromising all the damn time. Like, Don’t even bother going in that store, because they’ll assume you’re there to steal shit. Or Don’t even try to beat that kid to be a starter for the basketball team, because his rich daddy is on the school board. Or Don’t try to rise above your station in life. Don’t you know what you are?” My voice didn’t sound like my own anymore. It sounded bitter and jaded and cynical. I hated what this whole situation was doing to me. “I was told I should be grateful for this opportunity. And I believed, after a lifetime of being told I was shit, that this was more than I deserved. So I compromised.”

  Quinn’s thumb rubbed the skin on the back of my hand in support. “What about when this season is over?”

  I laughed bitterly. “I’d planned to come out. Fuck my agent. But now that we’re saving up for Darren’s bone marrow surgery, I don’t know what I’m going to do. My agent called me the other day. Told me he got me an audition for after this season is over, but that I’d have to stay quiet about being bisexual. I thought I’d be home free, but . . .” I shook my head. “I won’t be. I’m not sure I’ll ever be. Because every decision I make impacts how much money I make. How much money I can send home to save up for Darren’s operation.”

  I dropped my head in my hands, too tired to hold it up anymore as I purged everything I’d been keeping inside since I signed that contract at nineteen. I was twenty-two now and felt like I was forty-five. “I can’t believe I just told you all that,” I whispered.

  There was silence for a minute before Quinn said, “Why did you tell me?”

  I lifted my head slowly, my body aching like I was ancient. His blue gaze met mine. “Because you’re the first person other than my castmates who didn’t make me feel like you were using me for something.”

  ***

  Quinn

  I wanted to offer answers. A solution. I wanted to give J. R. something that took that hopeless look out of his eyes. I couldn’t, though. I was lucky in craps, but I wasn’t a miracle worker.

  Wrapping my brain around his life wasn’t easy. He’d taken a huge leap moving to California, all so he could pursue his dream. In a few months I’d have a degree, and if I got the balls, I’d take a leap, too.

  What I didn’t have? Someone who looked at me like J. R. did.

  And that was what I wanted.

  I bit my lip. “Well, I’m using you.”

  He raised an eyebrow, his expression softening to amusement. “Oh yeah? How?”

  I had to shut off everything in my brain that was screaming at me to stop talking and walk away, to melt into the background like I always did where it was safe. I couldn’t do that, not now, not when J. R. had spilled his guts to me. So I swallowed and did everything I could to be as honest as possible. “You notice me. No one ever notices me.”

  His eyelids fell to half-mast. “I did notice you,” he said softly. “I still do.”

  I inhaled sharply as his words warmed my chest. “And I guess I liked how it felt. How it feels.”

  “Are we really using each other when it’s an even exchange?”

  “I guess not, but I hate this for you. That this is your life right now.”

  He leaned closer and bumped his forehead to my temple. “I thought I was in the homestretch. I was so close to the end, I could taste it. And now I don’t know what to do, because another marathon has been tacked onto this race. And all I want to do is take a detour with you.” He angled his head so his gaze met mine and I lost myself in those warm brown eyes. “I want you. Like I haven’t wanted anyone in a long time.” He shook his head, the tension in his body spilling to my own so that my shoulders began to rise up to my ears. “This is fucking crazy.”

  I. Did. Not. Think.

  I leaped.

  Grabbing his shoulders, I hauled myself across his lap and straddled his hips. He stared up at me, silently begging, pleading.

  So I kissed him.

  This kiss wasn’t like the frenzied unleashing from yesterday in my cabin. This was slow, my tongue swiping his lips before pressing inside. His hand brushed my jaw, then cupped my face, his fingertips pressing into the muscles there as I inhaled him.

  When I pulled back, my vision was a little blurry and my chest heaved, smashing into his with every breath. “J. R.—” />
  “Jay,” he whispered.

  I blinked. “What?”

  “My first name is actually Jay. J-A-Y. My name is Jay Ryan Butler.” He heaved a breath, like this was his last gasp of truth. “You can call me Jay.”

  I didn’t know what to do with this information. “Oh.”

  His fingers brushed at the mole I knew was on my right cheekbone. “Why’d you kiss me?”

  I ducked my head. “I wanted to.”

  “Look . . .” he began. I closed my eyes briefly, because this was the moment where he’d tell me he couldn’t do this. That his job was on the line, his brother’s health. And I knew I wasn’t worth costing him either of those.

  I slid from his lap, but his hands clamped over my hips. “Wait. Let me talk.”

  I shook my head. “It’s okay. You can’t get caught doing . . . this with me. And I can’t do this again. Hide. I did it for two years with my ex-boyfriend and I can’t do it again.”

  He tugged me closer and cocked his head. “You had to hide?”

  I hated talking about this, but he had to understand. “Well, I didn’t even realize at first that we were hiding. He was my first boyfriend. I thought that was how it was done, sneaking into each others’ rooms, not meeting each others’ families. Never speaking in public . . .”

  “Jesus Christ, Quinn.”

  I shrugged, even as the familiar sting of shame crept over my skin. Jay gripped my face, forcing me to look at him. “I won’t make you do that. You deserve someone who will hold your hand at a restaurant, who will be proud to call you his. I . . .” he hesitated. “I’d be that man for you, if I could. But I can’t. Not here. Not now.”

  I nodded, my throat too tight to talk, because the sincerity in his eyes, the fierceness in his tone, told me he was speaking from the heart. Damn this cruise and his job and his contract. Damn it all.

  I slid off his lap and he let me, even though I could tell he didn’t want to. “You’ll find that guy, Quinn. I know it.”

  I stood up, and he slowly rose to his feet. “You will too, Jay,” I said, backing away from him as he stood with his hands shoved in his pockets. “Once word gets around you’re into guys and girls, you won’t be able to keep any of them off of you.” I gestured toward his body. “Just look at you.”

  He clenched his jaw, and his face twisted into a grimace. “Quinn . . .”

  I kept backing away, even as my heart wanted to surge back into his arms for one last kiss. “Thanks for everything, Jay. Have a great rest of the cruise.”

  I turned around and walked away, head down. I listened for his voice calling me back on the breeze. One word, and I would have done it all over again. I would hide and lie. Because Jay wasn’t Alexander. And I knew now, with a bone-deep certainty, that I wasn’t the same Quinn.

  Chapter Eleven

  J. R.

  Quinn was playing pool volleyball. Or whatever it was called with the net in the water. I stayed away from pools, so I’d never played. He and Jess were against two other girls. Their laughter rang out over the pop music playing near the bar. Quinn skimmed his arm across the top of the water in between a play, soaking Jess in an arc of water, who squealed and splashed back. The ball came sailing over the net, and they ran into each other trying to get it.

  I watched them with envy. I had been drinking with Paisley on the deck and was on my way to my cabin to shower when I’d caught sight of his hair.

  And now I was sitting down on a chair, out of view, watching him play volleyball. This mooning was ridiculous. We were on day four. Over halfway. And all I had to show for it was a kiss. Okay, two kisses.

  Someone sat down on the chair beside me, and I didn’t even bother turning at the sound of Levi’s voice. Quinn had actually scored a point for once and was trying to do a dance in the water.

  “Jess is pretty hot, isn’t she?” Levi said.

  “Mmmhmm,” I mumbled, playing along.

  “Yeah, the blue eyes and the red hair are really gorgeous.”

  “And the freckles,” I murmured. Quinn stepped back to serve. He hit the net and groaned, dunking his head under the water. When he surfaced, he slicked back his hair and grinned at Jess.

  “Yeah, the freckles,” Levi said. “Muscles, too.”

  “Yep.” His biceps shifted as he stretched out his arms to volley the ball back.

  “Hey, J. R.,” Levi said.

  He was messing up my concentration. “Damn, what do you want, Levi?”

  His eyes were wide, lighter green in the brightness of the sun. “Uh, do you want to rewind that conversation we just had and either confirm or deny? Think fast.”

  I replayed it in my head, and a deep chill washed over my body. My face must have shown my shock, because Levi lifted a hand. “Dude, it’s okay—”

  I was already up, striding swiftly off the deck, not knowing what to do or say or think but needing to get away from what I’d just done. What I had revealed. I could barely see through my haze of panic, my body going into emergency mode as everything shut down to prevent myself from fucking up further.

  The seal was broken this morning with Quinn, and I was nothing but a leaky pipe now, spilling my guts all over the damn place.

  Footsteps pounded behind me. Levi called my name but I was pulling open the doors, descending the steps two at a time and throwing myself into the elevator. As the doors began to close, I saw Levi vaulting down the stairs after me, and the last thing I saw before the elevator shut was Levi’s concerned face, his mouth open, saying my name.

  I sagged against the back of the elevator, rubbing my face over my hands. I could lie to Levi, come up with some reason why I agreed about the red hair and blue eyes and freckles. I could do that, but I was so tired of the lies. Of the omissions. Of fucking everything.

  When I reached our cabin, I went right to the shower and turned it on as hot as I could stand it. I stayed under the scalding spray for what felt like an hour but was probably only twenty minutes. When I walked into the bedroom with my towel around my hips, Levi sat on my bed waiting for me. I knew he’d be there.

  He didn’t say anything, and I wondered how many times I’d have to do this in my life. Come out. Would life always be about coming out? It sounded exhausting to think about, having to explain this over and over again.

  Although Levi could probably help me with that, if I told him the truth. So I didn’t think about what came before this or what was to come after. I stood with my back to him as I dressed. I took a deep breath. “So, I’m bi.” Silence buffeted my back like ocean waves. It hadn’t been as hard to say those words to him as I thought it’d be. “I lied, because under contract, I’m supposed to be straight. No one could know, but apparently after years of keeping this silent, I’m cracking a little.” I laughed, and it sounded slightly hysterical to me. I turned around, wearing a pair of shorts and a T-shirt, then held my hands out to my sides. “So that’s that. You caught me out.” My voice held a little of a challenge in it, but Levi’s expression was anything but angry.

  His face crumpled like a paper bag before he leapt up and ran into me, wrapping his arms around my back in the tightest hug I’d ever had in my life.

  I wasn’t sure what to do at first and then settled for returning the hug, grabbing his shoulders, and laying my cheek on his hair. I accepted his affection, the empathy that was rolling off him in waves. He knew what this was costing me.

  “J. R.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I hate this for you.”

  I closed my eyes. “I hate it for me, too.”

  He pulled back, and although his face was red, his eyes were dry, and now his face was tightening up a little, his lips thinning. Then he punched me in the shoulder. Hard. “Why the hell did you sign that contract, and why the hell haven’t you told me until now! And does Andrea know?”

  I started at the beginning
like I had told Quinn, explaining there was no Andrea and signing the contract had clearly been a dumb move. “Three years ago, gay marriage wasn’t legal. It’s crazy to think how far the gay community has come in a short amount of time.” I rubbed my jaw. “I didn’t tell you about me, because I didn’t know how to. And I was afraid if I told one of you, I’d tell you all and then I could get in deep shit.”

  He was pouting. “I really liked Andrea.”

  “Me too. She was fucking perfect. Because she didn’t exist.”

  He laughed. “So were you out before signing with the show?”

  “Yeah, for a little bit. No one knew who I was then. I always wondered if one of them would recognize me and come forward. But no one ever did. Other than my family, no one knows me as anything but straight in my hometown.”

  “And now you . . . what? Have a crush on Quinn?”

  I stared at the floor and mumbled, “We kissed.”

  When I looked up, Levi had his hand cupped behind his ear. “Yeah, I’m sorry, but I didn’t hear you, because I could have sworn you just said you kissed. Can you say that louder?”

  I cleared my throat and glared. “We kissed.”

  “Well, shit.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Sad I missed that.”

  “Look, it doesn’t matter. I’m still under contract and there are cameras everywhere. There’s not going to be any more kissing.”

  “How big is your crush on this guy?”

  “Big.”

  “On a scale of one to Matt Bomer, how big is this crush?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Eight or nine.”

  Levi was shaking his head. “No, see, this isn’t okay!” He began to pace the small cabin space in front of me. “We’ve all been fucking pigeonholed into characters and I’m fucking sick of it. Nothing is wrong with being a feminine gay, but that’s not me all the time, 24/7. That’s all they show, though! They show you angry in literally every episode, although now I see you have a legitimate reason to be angry. Casey is like a perfect angel and we all know that’s not fucking true. I’m so sick of this shit!” He was raging now, stomping his feet with every step.