by Anna Martin
“Can I tell you something?” Caleb asked.
“Sure,” his dad said. His face was etched with worry. “Anything, Caleb, you know that.”
Caleb nodded. “Okay. I sort of have a boyfriend.”
He watched his parents’ reactions, looking for signs of horror or disgust. He saw none. A little shock maybe, but it didn’t seem like they were freaking out.
“Sort of?” his mom repeated.
“Okay. I have a boyfriend. His name is Luc, and he’s from New York.”
She nodded. “How did you meet him? When you were there with the Deaf Youth group?”
Caleb felt his face heat but nodded. It wasn’t quite a lie—he had met Luc when he was in New York.
“He’s asked me if I want to go to New York for spring break.”
That immediately changed the tone of the conversation. His mom suddenly had an “Oh, hell no” expression on her face, and his dad’s eyebrows were raised all the way up.
“I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea, Caleb,” his dad said.
“Why not? He’s the same age as me. He lives with his mom and sister.”
“Maybe I could call the mother,” Caleb’s mom said to his dad. Caleb managed to read her lips. She didn’t sign her words; they weren’t meant for him.
“No,” Caleb signed. Then again, when they didn’t notice him the first time. “No. Please, Mom. I’m not some little kid. I’m eighteen.”
She balked at that, as she did every time Caleb reminded her that he was, legally, an adult. Because of his disability, or maybe because he was her only child, his mom didn’t like to think Caleb was able to make decisions for himself.
“I think it’s reasonable that I would like to know where you’re staying,” she started, signing as she spoke, until Caleb’s dad put his hand on her arm and squeezed it lightly.
“You can go,” his dad said.
Caleb watched as his parents exchanged angry looks and hissed words that Caleb couldn’t catch.
“Please keep in contact, text us or video call, but if you want to go and stay with your boyfriend, that’s okay.”
Caleb could tell from the pointed looks his parents were sharing that this would be discussed, in great detail, between the two of them over the next month until the end of the semester. His dad wouldn’t go back on his word now that he’d given it, and there may be yet more conditions put on him.
Grateful, Caleb nodded. “Thank you,” he signed.
And then he got the hell out of the kitchen before they could change their minds.
Now that Caleb was out to his parents, he expected his request to spend another weekend with Luc before his vacation to not be a problem. It turned out his mother was having more of a problem with the “relationship” thing than she was with the “gay” thing.
In some ways, Caleb could sort of understand her mini panic. He’d never really shown an interest in anyone before, male or female, so to learn that he’d jumped straight in to having a boyfriend was something of a shock to her.
He was quizzed repeatedly on how he communicated with Luc. How they got around the city. Who Luc lived with. What Luc’s parents’ professions were. It was the communication issue that became a sticker, though, as Carrie-Anne repeated her questions on how they managed to talk.
“Luc is learning ASL,” Caleb said over and over. “He’s picking it up really quickly. And if he doesn’t know the signs, he writes it down. We’re good, Mom. I promise.”
She didn’t stop worrying though, and when Caleb announced he was going to see Luc that weekend, his mom freaked out again. He left his dad to deal with her and went up to his room to pack his overnight bag. Fortunately his mom was working a late shift, so she couldn’t take him to pick up the bus. His dad had that honor.
“Be safe,” Mark said as Caleb leaned back in his seat and took the lecture he knew was coming. “Don’t get into a cab without Luc. Please text your mother at least once so she knows you’re safe.”
“I will.”
“Have fun,” Mark added.
Caleb smiled and nodded, then waved to his dad before heading for the big Peter Pan bus. He’d already booked his tickets and put his hearing aids in. The bus was cool, air conditioned, and Caleb found his seat and leaned back. In four hours he’d be with Luc again.
Like before, Luc met Caleb at Port Authority and launched himself into Caleb’s arms as soon as they were close enough. Caleb laughed and held on tight, his arms securely wrapped around Luc’s waist. For a few moments Caleb just hugged Luc close, needing this, the smell and feel and weight of his boyfriend in his arms.
“Hi,” Luc said when Caleb set him down again.
“Hi.” Caleb leaned in and kissed him softly, a brush of lips over the corner of Luc’s mouth.
“I want to take you to a club,” Luc signed. “A rock club.”
Caleb gave him a look which clearly said Are you high? Luc suppressed a giggle and grabbed hold of Caleb’s belt loops, pulling him closer and demanding another kiss. Caleb didn’t mind at all.
“Why?” Caleb asked when they pulled apart.
Luc lifted his hands, then seemed to realize he didn’t know enough ASL for this conversation. “When we first met,” he said, “you told me you can hear low frequency sounds.”
“Some,” Caleb said. “Yes.”
“And when you’re in the club you can just… feel this thump-thump-thump”—he put his hand on Caleb’s chest and beat out a soft rhythm—“and it’s awesome. It would be really cool if you came with me. Please?”
Caleb was torn, wanting in part to experience this, especially with Luc, and partly fearing being spotted as someone “other” and excluded. Something like had happened to him before.
“I’ll help you with something to wear,” Luc continued. “I’ll dress you up.”
Laughing then, Caleb found himself nodding before he realized what he was doing. “Okay,” he signed.
Luc’s smile beamed.
It was all set up quickly, not that Caleb was too surprised at this. Luc seemed to have an uncanny knack for getting his own way and putting his plans into action with a speed and energy that came from God only knew where.
He had been given strict instructions on what clothes to bring for the trip. Luc had asked if he had a pair of black jeans, and he’d said yes, even though he didn’t, and had gone out to buy some especially for that weekend. It was forty bucks well spent, as far as he was concerned.
Black sneakers—he already owned those. And Luc suggested nothing else, which had made Caleb blush, but he’d packed underwear and socks and long pajama pants with a T-shirt to wear in bed.
Once Luc got his hand in Caleb’s he was reluctant to let go at any point on the journey back to his house. On the subway they didn’t talk, not in any spoken language, anyway. Luc threaded his fingers through Caleb’s, stroked his knuckles, traced swirly patterns around his palm. It was a slow, erotic dance, and Caleb felt himself drifting, sated and happy at just being this close once more.
“Come on. We need to get ready.”
Caleb reluctantly peeled himself away from Luc, far enough away to take in his outfit. He was wearing black jeans, but unlike the pair Caleb had bought, his were so tight they could have been painted on. The T-shirt was smoky gray and bore the slogan “The Grateful Dead” but was so ripped and pinned back together the words were barely discernible.
“You look ready,” Caleb said with a smile.
Luc shrugged and pointed to his hair, which was a mess, but mostly because it had had Caleb’s hands in it for the past ten minutes.
“Did you bring a change of clothes?” Luc asked.
Caleb nodded, swung his bag onto the bed, and pulled out his neat Converse high-tops and his black jeans. Luc smiled in approval.
“You get changed. I’ll finish getting ready,” Luc said, hesitated, then leaned in to take another quick kiss.
Caleb took his jeans through to Luc’s adjoining bathroom, electing to change in there where he cou
ld also brush his teeth and hair. Luc had promised him a T-shirt to wear, so he didn’t put a shirt back on.
His running habit kept Caleb fairly fit, and his chest was one of the few parts of his body he wasn’t painfully self-conscious about.
The way Luc’s eyes darkened when he walked out boosted his confidence just a notch. He wasn’t really bothered about impressing anyone other than Luc. He didn’t need anyone but Luc to like the way he looked. To have that confirmation was the last nudge he needed to feel good about the night ahead.
“Can I borrow a shirt?” Caleb signed, holding his hands up to cover some of his naked body.
Luke smirked and shook his head. “I like you like this.” He stood and pressed his hands flat against Caleb’s stomach, then ran them up over his chest to his shoulders. “I love your shoulders. And you have hair on your chest.”
Caleb blushed and giggled and shrugged out of the touch, crossing his arms over his chest. Luc’s smile was wide as he pulled a second ripped up and pinned back together shirt from the back of his desk chair and tossed it over, forcing Caleb’s hands away from his chest to catch it.
Luc nudged him into the chair in front of a mirror, where there was a startling array of different products set haphazardly on a small table. It turned out there was little point in Caleb having brushed his hair. Luc took a small pot of wax and worked the soft pale blond curls into a quiff, combing the sides back. The result was sleek and edgy, instead of the hair falling loosely wherever it landed, as Caleb wore it most days.
Then Luc passed him the black eyeliner pencil.
“No,” Caleb signed emphatically. “No way.”
Luc grinned. “Look. I’ve got it on.” He did too. A lot. But it suited him.
“You’re different.”
Caleb sighed, guessed that he probably wasn’t going to win this battle, and allowed Luc to carefully smudge the kohl liner on his lower eyelid. The temptation to blink and rub at his eyes was huge, but Caleb resisted and stood to look at himself in the bathroom mirror. Luc followed close on his heels.
“I look stupid.”
Luc shook his head. “No,” he said. “You look fucking hot.”
“I’ll be fucking freezing.”
Stepping in as close as he could, Luc lined up their chests. “I’ll keep you warm.”
Try as he might, Caleb couldn’t think of a good response to counter that.
They were apparently running late, although Caleb wasn’t sure how. Luc managed to squeeze a wallet into a pocket, layered several bracelets on each wrist, and added studded black leather cuffs to finish the look. He glanced at Caleb and beckoned him forward, then selected a wide band—this one didn’t have studs—and wrapped it around his left wrist where Caleb usually wore a watch.
Luc pulled on a leather jacket that had yet more silver studs through the lapels and on the shoulders. The jacket Caleb wore to school most days was black, a plain cotton thing his mom had bought. He guessed it would do for tonight.
The night was fairly warm, so Caleb didn’t feel like he was going to freeze, even though he would normally wear more than just a thin T-shirt out at night. Luc had said they were running late, but he didn’t seem too bothered about rushing anywhere, and they walked at a fairly leisurely pace down to the subway and took the train into Manhattan.
Wearing clothes he didn’t normally wear, his hair styled, and makeup—makeup, for goodness sake—on his face, Caleb half expected someone to call him out, to expose him as a fraud. But mostly people kept their eyes down, on their phones or books or newspapers, and if their eyes did land on the two boys dressed in black they quickly moved away again.
The subway station was only half a block from the club, and they walked the short distance close to each other but not touching, not holding hands. Luc rolled his eyes at the short line that framed the edge of the building and took his place just in front of Caleb, apparently so he could lean back against Caleb’s chest as they waited. Caleb dutifully wrapped his hands loosely around Luc’s hips and decided he liked the smell of warm leather.
It didn’t take long for the line to edge forward, and then they were inside, two enormous security guards staring them down.
“Arms out,” one of them barked at Luc, and he lazily complied, spreading his arms to be patted down. “Got any drugs on you?”
“No, sir,” Luc said.
“ID?”
He pulled his driving license from his wallet and handed it over. The guy looked from the picture to Luc and back again with an amused smirk.
“Gimme your hand.”
Luc held out his closed fist and accepted the large black cross that was drawn on it with a thick marker pen.
“Have a good evening,” the security guard said with a nod. “Next.”
Caleb stepped forward.
“He’s deaf,” Luc said from his spot a few feet inside the club.
“Are you shitting me?”
“No,” Luc said defiantly and moved back to Caleb’s side.
“You brought a deaf kid to a rock club?”
Luc rolled his eyes. “Just pat him down.”
Since Caleb still looked nervous, Luc gave him a reassuring smile and tried to explain with his limited sign language what was going on. Copying Luc’s actions, Caleb reached for his own wallet and handed over his driver’s license.
“Boston, huh?” the security guard said and drew a cross on the back of Caleb’s hand too. “Go on. Have fun.”
Luc grabbed Caleb’s unmarked hand and dragged him down the hall to pay the cover charge and check their jackets.
“Sorry,” he signed. “I should have explained.”
Caleb shook his head. “It’s okay.” But he held up his hand in question.
“Um, it’s because we’re under twenty-one. It’s so the bar staff know not to serve us alcohol. Some of them still ask to check your ID even if they don’t mark you at the door.”
“Okay.”
The venue was huge. Caleb guessed it wasn’t the biggest music venue—he’d seen big stadium shows on the TV before—but it was the biggest place he’d been in with this many people wandering around, these gorgeous, dangerous people with their dark clothes and dark hair and dark makeup.
If he liked girls… well, a lot of them weren’t wearing much in the way of clothes. Some of them were wearing the tiniest shorts and leather bras with the same silver studs Luc had on his jacket.
Many men were wandering around without shirts on, only wearing leather pants and leather jackets, showing off the tattoos on their chests. He noticed a man with a brightly colored Mohawk hairstyle. Another with blond hair so long it brushed the top of his ass.
Luc seemed to be watching him take it all in and smiled hopefully when Caleb turned back to him. In response, Caleb laced their fingers together and squeezed, letting Luc know he was okay, desperate to see that broad smile again. He wasn’t disappointed.
Since Luc had been here before, he took Caleb on a tour of the building. The bar was on the left as they walked deeper into the venue, looking out on a sunken area where there were already plenty of people bouncing in time to the beat of the music.
The air was thick and warm but not uncomfortable. In any other circumstances Caleb knew he’d be on the verge of a panic attack. There was something about Luc’s presence that was keeping him grounded, though. He knew he was safe as long as Luc was around.
He was surprised too at how much of the beat from the music he could feel. The finer details of the melody were beyond him, of course, but there was a definite pulse in the air, a thump through the floor that likely came from the enormous stack of speakers that framed the stage at the far end of the venue.
A flight of metal steps led up to a balcony, and there was another bar up here and some low leather couches where half-dressed people were writhing around on top of each other in the dark.
Caleb wasn’t so comfortable watching that and tugged Luc back toward the banister.
“Okay?” Luc as
ked, and Caleb nodded.
“Yes. More than okay. I’m good.”
Luc hesitated, then leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to Caleb’s lips. Turning, he leaned his elbows on the edge of the balcony and wriggled his ass until Caleb curved his body over Luc’s spine, resting his chin on Luc’s shoulder.
From this vantage point they could see out over the whole venue. It was dark, the only light coming from pulsing, colored theater-style lanterns. It was strangely thrilling, putting a different kind of twist in his belly. Caleb couldn’t define it as a rebellion. It wasn’t that. His parents weren’t the sort to forbid him from doing anything except what was likely to hurt him.
No, this was something different. It was almost like rebelling against himself, against the kid who didn’t know how to express himself and was still learning how to be in a relationship.
Feeling decisive, Caleb leaned forward and pressed his lips to the delicate curve of Luc’s neck, then grabbed his hand and dragged him back down the stairs—both sets, so they ended up in the lower area where people were dancing.
It was a little overwhelming—the number of people, first of all, the heat and the sweat and the undulating power of the crowd. Then there was Luc next to him, Luc with his bare arms and black fingernails and his small, enigmatic smiles.
There must have been some kind of signal, because suddenly the dance floor filled up with even more people and the few lights dropped, cloaking them in darkness. Suddenly wary, Caleb grabbed hold of Luc and pulled him in front of himself.
The thrumming energy of the crowd seemed to change. Then the stage lit up and a band appeared. Luc looked back over his shoulder, his eyes bright and excited as he started to bounce in time with the thump of the music.
It was different from when the DJ was playing the music. Instead of the beats coming from a range of different sources, the speakers situated around the venue, now all the energy came from the guys at the front.
Caleb wasn’t sure if he recognized the band. It was entirely possible that he’d seen their pictures on Luc’s blog, and they were toward the back third of the room, so he wasn’t quite close enough to see their faces.
