Pride Must Be a Place

by Kevin Craig

  Alex’s dad is cool with his son being gay, but only because he doesn’t give a crap what he does. The only thing he did when he found out was put a lifetime supply of condoms under the sink in the upstairs bathroom. Like condoms are the only thing a gay boy will ever need. The man associated gay with one thing, sex.

  My father might be a racist bigot homophobe, but he’s a caring racist bigot homophobe. He checks to make sure his kids are in their beds at night. You would think a single parent would be more protective of his son, but if I’d have to call their relationship anything, it would be roommates.

  I ignore his last comments and text Malcolm back.

  You:What did you tell him?2:23pm

  Malcolm Caine: I didn’t narc you out or anything, E. Told him I didn’t know.2:24pm

  Pretty awesome for a minor-niner. Nothing I can do about it. I guess Alex is right. Caught red-handed.

  After school lets out for the day, kids start to trickle in to Elixir, backpacks slung over their shoulders.

  When Marc comes in, I do my best not to notice. You know, if you want to know what’s harder than not being yourself, it has to be pretending you’re not crazy attracted to someone you’ll never in a million years have a chance to be with. Marc is that person for me.

  CHAPTER 2

  Marc Tremblay is in Grade 12. A year older than me, but we still share one class together. And he’s more perfect than anyone has a right to be. And I’m pretty certain he’s straight. This, my friends, is the bane of the gay boy’s existence. The danger of the pointless unrequited-love crush lurks around every corner.

  He swaggers in with Roy Pringle and they sit at the table beside us. I know my eyes are entirely fixed on Marc, but I can’t help it. It takes me a minute to realize that the annoying pain in my shin is Alex repeatedly kicking me under the table.

  “Dude,” he says. “Take a picture. You’re practically drooling.”

  “What? Shut up.” But he has me. I feel the heat in my face and I know it just blossomed red. Damn. But this guy is so incredible. Whatever.

  “He’s as straight as Magellan.”

  “Clever,” I say as Nettie walks through the door and approaches us.

  “What happened to your face?” she asks Alex. “Not again.”

  “Oh my god, you sound just like Ezra. It’s no biggie.”

  When abuse becomes accepted behavior, you pretty much know you live in a messed up society.

  She drags a chair from Marc’s table over, while giving him a nod of thanks for not screaming at her for stealing it.

  “I told you, Ezra. See. We have to do something.”

  “That’s actually why I wanted you to come here.”

  “You’re finally ready to take action, you mean?” She’s as subtle as death.

  “Yep.”

  “Get me a coffee, Alex?” she says. And they both laugh, because they both know Alex does nothing for anyone. “I’ll be right back. Hold that thought, Ezra.”

  She leaves for the lineup, which is now pretty much out the door. You put a coffee shop close to a school these days, and you’re golden. I think there was a study recently that proved teenagers were the number one consumers of caffeine. Maybe I’m just making it up, but it sounds like a thing. Doesn’t it?

  “Does it hurt?” I ask Alex.

  “Huh? Oh. Not really. Kind of forgot about it.”

  “What are you so interested in on your phone, anyway?”

  “Huh?” He looks guiltier than I think I’ve ever seen him look. “Oh. Nothing.”

  “You’re doing something.” I grab his phone and jump up and away from the table before he can even react. “What’s this?” I attempt to read his screen while keeping him at bay with my flailing arm.

  “Give it back.” He’s seriously pissed. But he’s crazy red, too. I dodge him and move across the room. As I become aware of Marc out of the corner of my eye, I realize how this might look to him. Hopefully, my dodging doesn’t look like gay dodging. I try to look casual as I read Alex’s screen. “Ezra. Give it back to me.”

  “Oh my god, Alex!”

  “Mind your business and give it.”

  “You can’t be on this site. This is for men. Jesus, Alex.”

  He’s on Rub, the dating site. For gays. Men, though. Not teens. Only, most people don’t call it a dating site when they’re making fun of it. They refer to it as a fuck site.

  I close the page.

  He dodges for the phone and I relent, handing it to him with a look of disgust on my face.

  “Dude, you have to get off that site. No telling what could happen to you if you were to actually respond to one of those pervs.”

  “Mind your business.” He takes his phone and returns to his chair.

  Then the gross and disgusting truth dawns on me.

  “You already have, haven’t you?” I seriously can’t believe it. His face says it all. This wasn’t his first time on that site. And by his reaction, I’m guessing he might have already texted with some of these cretins.

  “No. Maybe. What?”

  “Oh man.”

  “Oh man, what?” Nettie says as she returns to her seat and sips on her coffee. “What’d I miss?”

  “I’m on Rub. There. I said it.”

  “Oh my god, dude!” Nettie says.

  “Right?!” I say. So disgusting. “You haven’t actually met any of those people, have you?”

  “I don’t think you’re in a position to judge me, Ezra. Ezra of the Closeted Ezras. At least I’m living my life. More than I can say about you.”

  “Low blow, bud,” Nettie says. “We’re just worried. How old are these guys? Because last I looked, you were seventeen. That’s kind of too young to be on a fuck site.”

  “Don’t piss me off, missy.”

  “Don’t catch anything you can’t un-catch, bitch.”

  “Nettie,” I say, trying to deescalate things. I turn back to Alex. “Clearly you’ve been texting with these guys. But have you met up with any of them?”

  “It’s what the site is for, Ezra. Of course.”

  I just shake my head.

  “Don’t judge me.”

  “I’m not judging you, Alex. You’re my friend. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

  “Whatever.”

  I turn my attention back to Nettie, who’s also shaking her head. I can tell she wants to say more, but she’s not going to. Her anger spills over in waves, so I decide to change the subject back to why I asked her to come.

  “Will Severe rubbed his face into a row of lockers.”

  “Asshole.”

  I’m pretty sure she used that word to describe both Will and Alex. Nettie is clever that way.

  “I was thinking maybe we can start some sort of club. I know that sounds gay, but I’m serious. We need friends.”

  “You’ll always have me, mon amour.”

  “Nice, Nettie. But not enough. If we could have the sympathy of just a few kids, I think it might stop douche bags like Will from showing their true colours. You know.”

  Alex humphs just loud enough to let us know his true feelings. He’s still not impressed.

  “Oh, you mean like I’ve been saying for about two years now?” Nettie says.

  “Yeah, but don’t you just sometimes reach your limit and know?” I say. “I saw the blood today and I knew I had had enough. The more we allow these things to happen, the less we allow ourselves to be who we really are.”

  “Some kind of gay-straight alliance is what you had in mind, right?”

  “If that could even exist here, yeah.”

  “One word,” Alex says. He stands and heads for the door. “Hicks. Ville.”

  “Alex, you have to at least give it a chance. People may surprise you.”

  “You know what?” He swings back to face us. His finger points angrily at Nettie as he gears up for a tirade. “You have no idea. You’re an upper-class white girl who’s straight and privileged. You’re just gonna go to some swe
et preppie school, get a degree that you’re not going to use, and then get married to some lawyer or doctor so you can be kept in the lifestyle you’re accustomed to.”

  I just want to kill him. Marc and Roy are both staring at our table. Hell, the whole coffee shop is gawking. The gay queen is putting on a show. I hate him right now.

  I’m trying to decide what the look on Marc’s face means. Is he disgusted? Is he piqued? He’s staring at Alex, and I find myself feeling jealous. Insane.

  “And you,” he says, un-expectantly turning his anger, and his accusatory pointing finger, upon me. “Well, you may as well not be gay. You’re straighter than these straight guys you keep falling in love with.”

  I slump a little lower in my chair, wondering if he actually just waved his hand in Marc’s direction as he said that last bit or if my humiliation is simply imaging that he has.

  “You’re in the closet, Ezra. You don’t have to deal with it because nobody knows. I can’t take this off. I’m gay all day, every day.”

  “Hey.” Oh my god. Marc just said something. Crap.

  “I told you there’s no point in doing this. I would think you’d listen to me since I’m the only one it actually—”

  “I said, hey,” Marc says again. Now he’s standing up. At our table. I want to die. Then I want my body to turn to dust and blow away. Far, far away.

  “What?” Alex screams. I don’t think he even realizes it’s someone outside his circle he just yelled at. He’s so wrapped up in his rant that he doesn’t see his surroundings anymore. Until he does. “Oh. Oops.”

  “Yeah,” Marc says, his cool smooth voice filled now with patience. It feels soft. It’s just the right amount of deep. “Oops is right. If Ezra were actually in the closet, I’d say you just outed him in front of half the school. That’s a pretty rotten thing for a friend to do.”

  Oh my god. I’m dead. I’m lying on the floor, dead. With a sword in my chest, with the blade penetrating my cold, lifeless heart.

  “But it’s an even shittier thing to minimize his story for the self-appointed importance of your own. Dude, you just put your best friend under the bus. Hope it makes you feel good.”

  With every word, I grow a deeper shade of what the hell. This guy is sticking up for me. And what? I’m out. I never know where I stand. I guess there is some validity in what Alex said, because I really don’t have to deal with the issue at all. But if Marc knows I’m out, I must be out.

  Or maybe it’s because it’s just so obvious I’m in love with him that he knows. Either way, I feel oddly exhilarated and like I want to die all at once.

  “Excuse me if I don’t give a shit what you think,” Alex says. I want to punch him in the throat. “But I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to my friends.”

  “Buddy,” Marc says, edging ever closer to Alex. Now I’m afraid he might actually hit him. “If my friends talked to me the way you just talked to yours, they wouldn’t be my friends for very much longer.”

  “Can you just mind your own—”

  “You made it my business when you yelled at them in front of everyone.” He moves within a couple inches of Alex. “Can your shit and listen to your friends. They have a good idea. You should take them up on the offer to help you out. And thank them.” He turns to his friend. “Let’s go. This guy pisses me off. I’d rather not listen to his trash-talk right now.”

  Did he just look in my direction and offer me a sympathetic smile? Did I just fall deeper in love? With the impossible?

  “Well,” I say to Alex as the door closes behind Roy and Marc. “Thank you for that.”

  All the eyes that were turned on the spectacle are slowly turning away. For once, Alex seems speechless.

  “Wow,” Nettie says. “Did that just happen?”

  “He is kind of cute,” Alex says, oblivious to the humiliation he’s just put me through. “I never knew what you saw in him until now. That was oddly hot.”

  “Don’t be an ass,” Nettie says. “You just totally embarrassed Ezra. Marc was totally right. Instead of planning a club to save your ass, we should be sending you a cease and desist notice of our friendship.”

  “Oh, sweetie,” he says. “You need me. I’m your project, remember?”

  A lot of our Alex time consists of tempers being brought to the boiling point and one of us storming off in a huff. Usually, it’s not Nettie, though. Except for today.

  As the door closes on the fleeing Nettie, Alex asks if I want to come over to his place. Why not? We’d have the place to ourselves.

  CHAPTER 3

  Alex’s dad is here. Have I mentioned that I think he’s crazy? I mean, it’s no surprise he’s a crappy parent. But he also loves his son. Or, rather, accepts him for what and who he is. Which is pretty cool. Something I can’t even imagine. Something that makes all the shortcomings forgivable. At least, in my eyes.

  We head straight to Alex’s room. Unlike me, he doesn’t compete for stuff. When you’re one of three boys, and you’re firmly in the middle of middle class, you don’t always have a lot of shit. Alex, you should probably know, has all the shit. He has stuff he hasn’t even opened and used that would be prime possessions in my house. Stuff in Alex’s room just collects dust.

  We’re only in his room for two minutes when his father is knocking on the door.

  “Are you decent?” he says and I immediately hate him. Again. I’m pretty sure he knows that Alex and I are just friends. Plus, ew!

  “Dad. Jesus. Do you have sex with your friends?”

  And now I hate Alex just as much. Again.

  He opens the door and his father barges in. He looks around in a way that suggests he might have earlier lost something in here. He runs a hand through his disheveled hair, like the nutbar that he is. Then he sits on the bed and looks at his son.

  “Annnnd?”

  “And what,” Mr. Mills says. “Can’t I just come in and see how you’re all doing?”

  “Dad. Seriously? Get out.” He shoos his father like he’s some kind of bug. But the thing is, his father actually gets up. He walks to the door.

  “I need you to get groceries tomorrow,” he says, almost as an afterthought, before he leaves.

  “Yep,” Alex says. “Now go on.”

  The randomness of being at Alex’s place.

  When the door closes again, Alex rolls his eyes as if to suggest, ‘What the hell was that about?’ But he’s totally preaching to the choir. His dad is so random. And then he’s not here for days at a time.

  “I think Marc might have a thing for you,” he says, as a way of changing the subject.

  “I think you’re crazy.”

  “Who knows,” Alex says. “Maybe his dads turned him by now.”

  “What do you mean, his dads?” I ask.

  “Tell me you don’t know he has two dads?”

  “Bull.” But I know that Alex knows all the gossip about every kid in school. “Really? How did I not know that?”

  “Because, my dear. You know nothing until I tell you about it.”

  “Still,” I say. “It doesn’t mean anything. He’s super straight.”

  “Yeah. I agree.” He smiles in a way that makes me think he’s happy I can’t have the guy I’m so madly in love with. It’s a mean smile.

  “I can’t believe I didn’t know this about him. I think I like him even more, now. Anyway, I think if you want to win back Nettie, you should just cave and let us try to get this club off the ground.”

  “How are you gonna get a club off the ground when you’re not even supposed to be gay? I mean, really, Ez? I’m not trying to be mean. You’re not out at home and that’s where it matters, man.”

  “True. But why should it matter?”

  “You don’t think your dad’ll catch wind of what happens at school? How many people are in this town, Ezra? Just enough to spread all the rumors. Nothing worse than a rumor in Hicksville.”

  I hate that he has a valid point. But I also hate that I allow this to control m
y life. Maybe I should just tell my parents. That would solve everything.

  Yeah, right. I’d be out, but I’d also be dead.

  “I see what you’re saying.”

  “You see what I’m saying? Do you? Really? Because even suggesting that we do this puts you in jeopardy. As soon as one person knows, it’s out there. You have to commit completely or not at all.”

  “But what do you mean? We haven’t done anything yet.”

  “You suggested that you want to. Don’t you think people heard that? Don’t you think it could potentially get back to your father?”

  “The only thing that could potentially get back to my father is that scene you caused at Elixir. If anybody in that place didn’t know I was gay, they do now.”

  “I guess I wasn’t thinking.”

  “You think?”

  “Nettie’s parents trained her to be a rebel,” he says, choosing to ignore the accusation in my tone. “She’d want to do this even if her two best friends weren’t a couple of Nancys.”

  I hate that term. I’ve told him this. A zillion times. I shake my head at him.

  “Okay, sorry. One Nancy and one macho guy who just happens to be homosexually oriented. You’re so sensitive.”

  I dig through his vinyl, ignoring his words. He knows what I’m looking for. I know what I’m looking for. I put on the extended version of Rise Up by Parachute Club for the thousandth time and I know Alex regrets ever introducing me to the song.

  But it’s my song. It’s what I want to do.

  “There comes a point when you just know you have to do something and it doesn’t matter what the consequences are. I reached that point. I think we’d have enough support to pull it off. If it means talking about it on social media, then so be it. My bigot father will have to deal with it or disown me. His decision. I can’t just change who I am. And, either way, he’s going to find out eventually.”