by Z. B Heller
“Then we need to fix that, won’t we?” I said, smiling as we continued to walk.
Brandon stroked his hand through his shaggy locks and smiled back at me. He looked at me for a minute as if I passed his inspection for friendship.
“Yeah, I guess we do.”
The bell jingled overhead as Ryan and I stepped through the door of the diner. It was a small place with red vinyl booths and round cozy tables. Chickens seemed to be the theme because the place was inundated with all kinds of chicken paraphilia. The hostess greeted us and led us to a booth. I took the seat looking into the restaurant because I always kept an eye out for my dad. There’d been a few instances where he found me and gave me a tongue lashing out in public. It was humiliating. Many people around here knew my parents were deadbeats, but no one had said anything about it publicly. It was better to keep to yourself and not get into anyone’s business.
Except for Ryan. He had no qualms about putting himself straight into the line of fire. He was the big football star that everyone idolized, and I was a nerdy kid who lived in the trailer park. It had always been easier for me to let Ted have his say around me and then go about my business. I tried once to stand up to him in the lunchroom after he intentionally spilled soda all over one of my books. I threw my chair back, fisted my hands to my side, and was ready to go after him with everything I had. However, he yelled for the lunch supervisor and said I’d grabbed the soda out of his hands when he was innocently walking by. Even though I had tried to plead my case, I was still sent to detention. Only a few more months and I could get the hell out of this hellhole town.
I thought about how Ryan had handled himself with Ted. When Ted flung horrible homophobic slurs at Ryan, they bounced right off him like he was made out of steel. The words fag and homo were often thrown around my house, each time cutting deeper into my soul. Those words haunted me because they were what I was trying so hard to deny. They were words that described the feelings and attractions that I had boiling in my veins.
No one will know—ever.
All I knew growing up was that gay people were crucified and tortured verbally, emotionally, and sometimes physically. If I wanted to make it successfully through college, I didn’t want those things to get in my way. I had to achieve my goals; if I didn’t, I’d be back here, living with an abusive father and a mother who didn’t care what the hell happened to me.
“Tell me about yourself, Brandon… ” Ryan slowed my speeding thoughts.
“Brandon Ford. My name is Brandon Ford.” I said, skimming the menu. I didn’t have much cash on me. I was trying to save every penny I made stocking shelves at the pharmacy where I worked.
“How regal sounding,” Ryan said as he put his menu down.
“Hardly.” I crinkled my nose. Our waitress came up to the table, smacking her gum loud enough that people could hear it down the street.
“What can I get you two?” She raised her writing pad and chicken pencil up to her chest. She was a pretty brunette with big blue eyes and bigger breasts. I tried to think of what she would look like without clothes. Wasn’t that what guys my age were supposed to do? Fantasize about fucking anything with big breasts? I felt absolutely nothing when I looked at her. The guy sitting opposite me in the booth? That was another story.
“I’ll take a BLT, fries, a chocolate milkshake, and a Coke. Oh, and a side of onion rings, too.”
I gawked at Ryan.
“What? I’m a growing boy!” He shrugged as if he were reading my thoughts.
I tried to check out Ryan’s arms and chest without making it too obvious. Ryan was already tall and well built. There was no mistaking he took care of his body and worked out. For just a small second, I wondered what it would be like to have those arms surround me, embracing me close to his chest. What would it be like to be chest to chest, pressing into each other instead of pushing away in disgust?
No! I have to clear that out of my head.
“I’ll just take a Coke,” I said, handing my menu back to the waitress.
“Not getting food?” Ryan asked.
“Not really hungry,” I lied. I didn’t have enough cash with me to get anything besides a soda.
“So?” Ryan motioned his hand in circle for me to continue.
“There isn’t that much to tell. My name is Brandon Ford. I’m a senior at Darlings.” I stopped and drummed my fingers on the table. I forced myself to look into his eyes. The hazel color was a mix of greens, golds, and browns, something that one might find in a forest. They were warm, inviting, and nonthreatening.
“I’m going to have to dig information out of you, aren’t I? I have an idea, let’s play twenty questions.” He leaned forward and rubbed his hands together.
“What? Are we ten years old?” I laughed but was concerned with what Ryan had in store. I had no interest in sharing personal information with a guy I just met.
Hi, my name is Brandon, and my dad beats the shit out of me. Oh, and I might be gay.
“No, if we were ten, we’d play the M.A.S.H. game,” he said as he rubbed his hands together.
“The what game? Like pretending we’re part of the Korean War in the seventies?”
“Well, that answers one of my questions: You don’t have a younger sister. M.A.S.H. is a stupid game my sister made me play when we were kids. According to the game, I was going to live in a mansion, drive a Yugo, marry Cindy Crawford, and have a hundred babies.”
“Wow, you must have superhuman sperm, then.” I tried to hide my laughter, but my body shook, giving it away.
The corner of Ryan’s lip curled up.
I rolled my eyes. “No, I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”
“Favorite color?”
I rested my elbows on the table. “That’s the best you can do? All the possible questions and you want to know my favorite color?” I felt my guard drop the more Ryan and I spoke.
“You said that there wasn’t much to know, so I’m starting simple.” There was nothing simple about the way Ryan was trying to look into my soul. The light over our table enhanced the gold, green, and brown of his hazel irises. They were hypnotizing and made it almost impossible for me to think.
My lips crushed together. “Blue.”
“How macho of you.” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Fine. Is green more to your liking?”
“It will have to do for now.” He stretched backward, laying his arms on the booth seat. That movement made Ryan’s shirt tighten across his chest, giving me a better view of his pecs. I swallowed and shifted in my seat.
“Favorite movie?”
I didn’t even have to think; the answer rolled out of my mouth. “To Kill a Mocking Bird.”
“That’s a book, not a movie. Disqualified.” He drew his hand across his neck as if I just got cut from a sports game.
“It was a movie! Gregory Peck was amazing in it. And before you ask, it’s also my favorite book, too.”
To Kill a Mockingbird resonated with me for a whole host of reasons, but predominately because there were parts of me in all the characters. I was an enigma like Boo Radley, an outcast like the black man, Tom Robinson, and wanting to go live big adventures, like Scout, Dill, and Jem.
“You read a lot, don’t you?” Ryan asked while rubbing his chin with his thumb.
“Yes, I love to read. I prefer to read than watch movies or TV. You get so much more information in books; then you put the pieces of information together in your mind. I guess it’s like a movie, but you think it rather than watch it.”
Ryan tilted his head and lifted his brows.
“What?” I worried I’d said something that made him uncomfortable.
“That might be the most you’ve said since we came into this place.”
I looked down at the table as I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m just passionate about it.”
Before Ryan could ask another question, the waitress brought out his food and set it all on the table along with my Coke.
“What are your plans after school?” Ryan popped a french fry in his mouth. I watched his lips move as he chewed. He had a strong jaw and pink pouty lips. Ryan caught me looking at his mouth. He smiled when he finished chewing, and I instantly looked down at my Coke.
“I usually go to the library to study, but today I’m here with you.” I lifted my head and he gave me a close-lipped smile.
“I meant after high school. He threw one of his fries at me.
“I know.” I laughed. “I was just giving you a hard time.”
“Oh, now he’s cute, smart, and funny.” My smile faded, and I brought the cup to my lips to take a sip. I looked around the restaurant to see if anyone was listening in on our conversation.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I hope you don’t feel weird because…”
“Because why?” I asked, curious why he felt the need to apologize.
“Because I’m gay and stuff.”
I choked on my Coke and grabbed a napkin from the table to wipe my chin. Ted had called Ryan a fag and a homo at school, but I thought that was just Ted’s way of being a prick to everyone, not Ryan in particular. The thoughts and dark fantasies I’d tried so desperately to repress were now screaming to be let out. In front of me was a confident guy, who was gay and not afraid to say so. I admired Ryan’s confidence and wished that some of that would rub off on me. It felt good having someone to talk to—and who didn’t jump to some sort of conclusions about me just because I liked books over football.
Ryan straightened up and wiped his hands with his napkin. “Listen, we can get the check and get out of here. The last thing I want to do is make you feel weird.”
“No!” I yelled so loudly that the other people in the dinner turned their heads to look at me. I lowered my voice. “I mean, no, I don’t feel uncomfortable. I just swallowed my soda wrong. You know, going down the wrong pipe.” That was such a lie. I wasn’t uncomfortable around Ryan, I was more curious than anything. I tried to change the subject. “Tell me about you.”
Ryan looked at me for a long moment before he picked up his sandwich, took a bite, and looked off into the distance.
“Well, I have one sister, my parents are awesome, my favorite color is brown, I like all the Terminator movies, and my favorite book is See Dick Run.”
This time I did choke on my soda—only because I was laughing. “Please tell me that last part was a joke,” I said, grinning.
“Yes, it was. It’s really What Happens When Dick Leaves Jane for Another Dick.”
I wadded my napkin and threw it at Ryan’s giggling face. I shook my head while I smiled from ear to ear.
The next hour went on, and I was captivated by Ryan. He was funny and charismatic, and I could easily see how he could charm his way out of the toughest situations. I also discovered he was huge flirt; he gave our waitress a megawatt smile and a wink when he ordered a slice of cherry pie. She came back with the pie, and I couldn’t look away when Ryan brought a forkful to his mouth, closed his eyes around the bite, and moaned. My heart beat double time, pumping all of my blood down to my rock-hard dick.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“I love their pie. Cherry is the best, but the apple and lemon meringue aren’t bad, either.” He sucked the excess cherry pie filling off the spoon, giving me a clear view of his tongue. I shifted in my seat in an attempt to adjust my growing erection. “Want a taste? I can get an extra spoon.” I looked at the spoon he was holding, and I never wanted to be an inanimate object so badly before.
“No, I’m good.” I waved him off.
“Are you sure? Is like a hot orgasm in your mouth.” He gave me the same wink he gave to the waitress earlier. “So, Brandon, do you have a girlfriend?”
“No.” I didn’t elaborate on my answer and hoped my clipped response would shoot the topic dead in the water.
“Really? Looking at you, I would think you’d have to beat them off with a stick.”
I froze, unable to swallow. My brain quickly flashed to my dad whipping me with the switch. I lowered my eyes, feeling ashamed I wasn’t a tougher person to stand up to the bastard. My life could have been so different if I weren’t so afraid of the consequences. But it was all I knew. Going against what my father viewed as the correct way to live equaled disaster and pain.
“I’m sorry, did I say something wrong?” Ryan dipped his head low to catch my eye.
I looked back up at him. Worry lines creased his forehead, and he frowned. I wanted to reassure him that it wasn’t anything he did or said; it was my fucking fault that I was such a pussy. But instead, I took the easy way out.
“You didn’t. I’m just really concentrating on my studies. I have a scholarship to the University of Illinois Chicago. I’m going into the premed program, so it’s important that I keep all my grades up. That means no time for dating.”
“Wow, premed.” Ryan’s composure changed back to contentment when I moved out of my dark thoughts. “That’s pretty amazing.”
“Thanks.”
Ryan stopped moving, and it felt like his eyes were drilling holes into me.
“What? I mean, it’s not Harvard or anything, but it’s a good school.” I sat up straight and put my chin forward, proud of my accomplishments.
“It’s not that. It’s just funny because I’m going to Columbia College for Journalism. That’s a pretty weird we’re both going to Chicago. Looks like you and I were just meant to become friends.”
Weird wasn’t the word I was thinking of at that moment. Trouble seemed to be a better fit. How was I going to be friends with the guy who made me hard as steel and had the kind of life I so desperately wanted?
Since the day Ryan rescued me from being bullied outside my school, we’d become inseparable. There was something about him that made me feel safe and comfortable in my own skin. Well, not completely comfortable. There was no way that I was telling Ryan, or anyone, the feelings and thoughts that ran through my mind. Every time I looked at him, I felt a twist in my gut that was so unfamiliar to me. There was no way I could resist being near him even though I wouldn’t allow myself to act on my feelings. There was just no way.
Even though I needed to keep those feelings buried deep, Ryan treated me like no one had treated me before. He was truly interested in listening to the things I was passionate about, like why going into medicine was important to me and why I loved getting lost in books. He never criticized me or made fun of my interests. He just listened patiently as I talked. It only made me fall into a deeper hole that I was already struggling to ignore.
I also got to know him better and realized he wasn’t all looks. There was a very intelligent brain to match. He liked to hide it behind sarcasm and jokes, though. We talked about our move to Chicago and the hilarity that we met each other right before graduation. I was envious of Ryan and his relationship with his family. He invited me to his house numerous times for dinner or to simply hang out. His family was so warm and accepting; it stung to go back home and deal with the hell that was my parents.
One Saturday night, I had my face buried in a textbook, trying to get ready for finals that were in a week. The phone rang, and I was surprised because I thought my mom had forgotten to pay the phone bill. There were several times that we’d gone without service due to a lack of payments.
I moved quickly to pick up the receiver. “Hello.”
“Hey, you answered.” Ryan’s voice filled my ear like the sweetest song I’d ever heard. Shit.
“Were you expecting someone else? The pizza place is down the street.”
“Funny. It’s just sometimes I call you and your answering machine doesn’t even pick up.”
No, it wouldn’t, considering the fact we don’t have an answering machine.
“Strange, I’ll have to look into that,” I lied.
“I wanted to go to Hazelwood Park; they have some cool trails to run on. What time do you want to meet me?”
I’d realized over the past several weeks this was Ryan’
s style. He said “jump” and expected everyone to say “how high?” If he weren’t the one thing that made me happy, I would challenge his cocky attitude. But that could risk our friendship, and I wasn’t going to let that happen.
“How’s two o’clock?”
“Fine. Get ready to sweat because I’m going to start putting some muscle on your scrawny ass.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my ass.”
“True,” he said with a small laugh.
My cheeks flared crimson, and I was glad he couldn’t see me. This wasn’t the first time Ryan had made a comment about the way I looked, but he usually followed the comment with just kidding. The dark part inside of me didn’t want him to be kidding. It wanted Ryan’s eyes to roam over my body in appreciation.
This needed to stop.
“I’ll see you there,” I said and hung up the phone.
I studied for the rest of the morning and rode my bike to the park. Hazelwood Park was large, with jogging trails, picnic spots, and a lake. I knew that some other kids from school liked to venture deep in the wooded area at night so they could drink and smoke pot. I had never done that, though.
Ryan stood by his car in the parking lot doing some leg stretches. He was wearing loose shorts, a white tank top, sunglasses, and a baseball cap turned backward. I watched him for a minute until I realized that sitting on the bike seat with a growing erection was becoming painful. I got off my bike, far enough away that he couldn’t see me, and tried to calm my boner and myself before greeting him. Ryan is my best friend, I told myself. Nothing would happen—with him or with anyone.
“What took you so long?”
“Sorry, there was traffic.”
“Traffic? On a bike?” He pointed to my bike. “When are you getting yourself a car?”
“You know I’m saving money for school. Plus, when we’re in Chicago, there’s always public transportation.”
Ryan shivered and scrunched up his nose. “Sweaty people clumped together on a bus or a train. Eww.”
