Pride Must Be a Place

by Kevin Craig

  “It was all her idea, too,” Malcolm says, filled with pride for Nettie. “I just did some grunt work. She had the idea, she convinced Mr. Reason to spend the extra money, she did everything. Even the envelopes.”

  Nettie chuckles. “Yeah, another thing Malcolm rode all over the city to find. Amazing how difficult it is to find six different coloured envelopes. Someone needs to open a one-stop Pride store. With colour-coded aisles.”

  “Thank you,” I say, as though they did all of this for me and not for the Rainbow Alliance Club. “I needed this right now. Seriously.”

  “I knew you’d love it, Ezra,” Nettie says. “And the countdown is on. Two more days until Homecoming. We’re gonna rock this out of the park!”

  “More like out of the closet,” Marc says. He turns to me and raises his hand for a high five. And I give it to him. I have goose-bumps again as the fives go around the room. When they’re all completed, Marc says, “Let’s do this.”

  This is one thing that Alex Mills will not be able to tarnish. The Wheel of Pride booth, formerly known as the Wheel of Chance booth, is so gonna kick ass. Nobody will even remember the rest of Homecoming.

  CHAPTER 33

  Countdown to our inaugural public event is now one day away. I thought nothing could burst the bubble of excitement that’s been building. The meeting at lunch today was more just about talking and having fun together than anything else. Most of the details were already looked after, thanks to Nettie and Malcolm and a couple other people who had done double duty pulling the new stuff together.

  We were just supposed to wait for it to happen. Until Marc came up to me before the last class of the day and told me he had some bad news. Bad news that he’s made me wait until now to hear.

  I’m at Elixir, nursing a French Vanilla. I feel like I’m always waiting for someone here. For something.

  When the door opens, I look up hoping to see Marc. I can’t look away fast enough. It’s Alex. I had managed to not set eyes on him since my escape at my locker the other day. I don’t know if he’s avoiding the club because of me, or what, but he wasn’t at the meeting today.

  I guess I figured he’d drop out, but I can’t worry about crap like that. It’s not my fault. I never told him he can’t come.

  He makes a show of not seeing me. He walks past me, drops his murse at a table near the back and heads to the counter. I don’t know if I have ever seen Alex head to the counter at Elixir. He’s so stealth at getting others to do it for him.

  “Don’t bother.” Marc’s voice kind of startles me back to reality. I guess I’ve been caught staring. “He’s not worth your time. Move on.”

  “Oh, I know. Just can’t believe he’s at the counter, ordering. That’s a first.”

  “It’s about time,” he says. “I’m sorry, but I used to sit here and watch him treat you like a piece of shit and it used to drive me insane.”

  “Seriously?” I had no idea he even knew I was alive.

  “That day I said something…I was ready to snap. I just couldn’t sit there and say nothing anymore. He’s monumentally unbelievable.”

  “Wow. Who knew? You cared all along. You love me.”

  “Ha,” Marc says. “Yeah. Because that’s what I just said.”

  “I’m getting better, right?” I ask, only partly joking.

  “Much,” Marc says. “Let me just grab a cappuccino first.”

  He makes a beeline for the counter.

  Alex has now retreated to his corner table. He’s head-down and fully immersed in his phone. Alone. Must not feel guilty. Must not feel guilty.

  “Okay,” Marc says as he sets his coffee down and sits down across from me. “And now that bad news.”

  “Should I be worried? It’s not about funding for the club or anything like that, is it? Your father changed his mind?”

  “What?! No. Holy, Ezra. You’re amazing at worst case scenarios. Kinda making my job here a little easier. Nothing I can say now will be nearly as bad as what you’re imagining.”

  “Sorry, but I have a lot of practice. I’m a natural worrier.”

  “I’ve noticed. No. This is about Will. And the football team. And whoever they’re able to convince to join in.”

  I shrug my confusion as he takes a sip of his cappuccino.

  “It’s just a rumor at this point. I heard it in gym class this morning. Apparently, Will is trying to get everyone to boycott our booth tomorrow.”

  “Oh great. You just know everyone’s going to follow his lead. The whole school either idolizes him or fears him. Either way, they’ll all obey him. Damn.”

  Even as I’m bitching about the possibility of this happening, though, I feel myself lighten. I can’t help but hope this means Will reconsidered dumping his scholarship. Maybe he’s decided to stay with football, after all. Like I should give a rat’s ass. But I somehow feel guilty about the whole thing with Alex and his father, as though guilt by association would ever come into play here.

  “Well,” he says. “Not so fast. Not the whole school. You know there’s been a lot of positive stuff happening since my dad came to the school. I think kids had their eyes opened that day. And besides, it’s just a rumor…just a couple guys talking about it on the field. Doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen.”

  “Seriously? You don’t believe that for a second.”

  “Which is why I wanted to give you the heads-up. Yeah. I do think it’ll happen. But I don’t think everyone will stay away. There’s enough kids in the school with the balls to ignore what the king of the jocks says. I just wanted to let you know. It is what it is.”

  “Yeah, I guess.” I’m texting Nettie the news as I say this. She should have been here. There’s no denying she worked the hardest on this event.

  “So. Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room or ignore it and hope it blends in?”

  My scrunched up look of confusion dissolves almost immediately. I go from not having a clue about what he’s talking about to knowing exactly what he’s talking about in no time. Because as I look up from my phone, the elephant is actually in my line of sight.

  Alex.

  “He’s part of the Rainbow Alliance Club too,” Marc continues. “You don’t think he’s staying away because of you, do you?”

  I feel the flush in my face. Guilty. But what the hell can I do about it?

  “What should I do?”

  “I don’t know, Ezra,” Marc says. “But I think it wouldn’t hurt if you maybe went over there and had a talk with him.”

  He actually stands and picks up his cappuccino. It’s only now that I realize it’s in a to-go cup. He must have planned for this when he was up at the counter and decided to get the barista to put his drink in a quick-escape receptacle. Well played, evil genius. Well played, indeed.

  “You know,” he says, “don’t re-friend him or anything. Just smooth things over so he knows he’s welcome to join in tomorrow. He’s a big part of the reason why we even have the club.”

  One of the reasons I fell in love with Marc so easily. Not only is he the best looking boy in school, he’s also the most chivalrous, the most reasonable, the most, the most, the most. As much as he dislikes Alex, he is first and foremost fair.

  Ack.

  “This is where you leave me,” I say. Okay, I almost groan it.

  “You know I’m right.”

  “Yeah,” I say. “I do.”

  “I’ll catch up later, okay? Text me.”

  “See you,” I say. He walks away and I accept the fate that he leaves me with.

  But I wait a few minutes. Might as well enjoy the rest of my French Vanilla. I look over and Alex is still busy on his phone, turtling over it like a fiend. Rub, no doubt. Ew.

  “Hey,” I say after I finally make my way over. He doesn’t stop what he’s doing. At first I don’t think he’s going to acknowledge my existence.

  “Hey,” he says after he finishes typing something on his phone. But he still doesn’t look up. I don’t know if I sh
ould sit down or what.

  “What do you want, Ezra?” he asks after a few awkward seconds of silence where I struggle with what I should do next. He still has not looked up from his phone.

  “Well,” I say. “I was just thinking about tomorrow. You know, Homecoming. I wouldn’t want you to miss it just because of me. I know you put a lot of effort into the club, too. You shouldn’t have to stay away now. I’m sorry I did what I did, but I just…you know.”

  “No, Ezra,” he says. He finally makes eye contact. “I don’t know. But I don’t care, so spare yourself the awkward explanation. I don’t give a shit.”

  “Oh,” I say. Because I’m Captain Feeble.

  “Don’t worry your pretty little head about tomorrow. I have no intention of coming to your stupid little booth, so you can save it.”

  “I’m sorry, Alex,” I say. I do sit down. More because I suddenly think it might annoy him that I invade his space further. “But you don’t have to be like this. I put up with so much of your bullsh—”

  “Actually,” he says, cutting me off. “I’m making plans for a date right now.” He goes back to looking at his phone screen. “As we speak.”

  He holds the phone up to my face and I see that it’s the Rub app he has open on the screen. Lucky guess, I suppose. Then he gives me the most smarmy smile he can find in his repertoire of smarmy smiles. “I’ll be busy getting busy while you’re spinning your stupid little wheel. Have fun.”

  “Awesome.” I get up from the chair, turn, and walk away. I shouldn’t be the least bit surprised.

  I so totally made the right decision.

  CHAPTER 34

  This has got to stop. I don’t care if my father has completely transformed over the last few weeks or not. Well, I care…it’s great. But I’ll never get used to walking up my street and seeing him and Simon shooting the breeze in my driveway.

  To think I thought my dad would have killed me the day he discovered my sexuality. Or, at the very least, throw me out of the house. I’m grateful, but this besties with my boyfriend thing needs to stop. Just, ew.

  “Here he comes,” Dad says as I near the house and turn in at our driveway. “The prodigal son.”

  “Hey, Dad. Hey, Simon.” Simon gets my best what the hell look.

  “Oh hey, Ez,” Simon says. “I thought I’d come over right from school. You know, since you’ll probably be too busy to see me tomorrow. With your booth and everything.”

  “It runs until eight, you know,” Dad says. I might as well not be here. “We were planning on taking the boys after supper. You should come.”

  “Oh, hey,” Simon says. “That sounds like a good idea.”

  Gah.

  “You okay with that?”

  I want to say this is moving too fast. But I’d be lying. It isn’t. Just, the whole thing with my dad is just too freaky. Simon and I have only ever kissed, and it’s like he’s family or something.

  “Sounds good,” I say. “Don’t know how successful it’s gonna be, though. Marc just told me the football team’s trying to get a boycott going. Because of Will.”

  “All the more reason for us to go,” Dad says. Imagine my family at the Wheel of Pride. The image makes my head explode. I fall to the driveway and die. Dead.

  “Sure,” I say.

  “I’ll head over after school then,” Simon says. “See you there, Mr. Caine.”

  “Sounds good. Well, must be off then. Things to see and people to do.”

  Argh. He has to stop trying to be Johnny Casual with my boyfriend.

  “Come on, Simon,” I say, guiding him away from my father and towards the house. He waves to my father and my father jumps into the cab of his pickup, pulls out of the driveway, and drives away. He triple taps the horn as he goes. Saying goodbye to his new best friend, no doubt.

  Inside, we almost make it up to my room when Malcolm stops us.

  “This is going to be so awesome,” he says. He’s blocking my way in the narrow passage between my door and the railing. “What are you going to wear tomorrow? Remember Nettie said we should all wear one of the six colors.”

  I hadn’t really thought about it. My straight brother wants to gay up and I’m not all over that? There must be something wrong with me.

  “I don’t know, dude,” I say. “Don’t even know if there’s anything—”

  “Well,” he says, bringing a purple v-neck t-shirt out from behind his back where he’s been hiding it. “I found this in your bottom drawer. Do you think I could borrow it?”

  “Malcolm. You know you’re not supposed to go through my shit. Jesus.”

  “Relax. I couldn’t find anything purple in my shit. Do you mind?”

  I look at him and shake my head. He might think I’m shaking it out of frustration at him, but it’s because of the sudden realization I’m eye to eye with him. He’s a minor frigging niner, and he’s almost my height. When did that happen? Soon he’ll be taller than me. Nice.

  “Go for it,” I say.

  “Hey, thanks, man.” He brushes past me on the way to his room. He’s almost gone when he turns and says, “Oh, hey, Simon. How’s it going?”

  “Ha. Hi, Malcolm.” Simon is obviously entertained by my slightly manic brother.

  We finally get inside my room. I weigh my options and decide it’s worth getting yelled at. I shut my bedroom door. What? My father did drive away, after all. We’re safe. For a little while, anyway.

  “So,” I say to Simon, standing with my back against my bedroom door. “Whatcha wanna do?”

  “Aren’t you supposed to leave that open?”

  “Who’s gonna know?”

  “Isn’t your mom here?” he asks. There’s a hopeful glint in his eye, though.

  “Nope,” I say. “Theo has football Thursday nights.”

  “Malcolm won’t rat you out?”

  “Are you kidding? He’s practically been my servant since he joined the club.”

  “You don’t think he’s—”

  “Not a chance. Seriously. Nope. I’m almost positive Malcolm’s straight.”

  “Just checking. Didn’t think so. So, we can keep the door closed, eh?”

  Now he sounds downright mischievous. He starts to walk towards me. There’s no way to escape, since I’ve pinned myself against the door. As if I’d want to escape Simon.

  By the time he reaches me and I feel his hands upon my arms and his breath upon my face, my eyes are closed. I stand rigid against the door and await the press of his body against mine and the sting of excitement that comes whenever his mouth slowly envelops mine.

  I wouldn’t trade this for one of Alex’s messed up Rub hookups for a million dollars. This is real. This is love.

  CHAPTER 35

  I feel like we’re encroaching on an event that’s all football, football, football, which is why we might be tanking. I say might to be hopeful, because I’m almost out of hope. The booth’s been open for half an hour and the only kids who’ve come around are ones who have shown up at the organizing meetings.

  This does not look good.

  Although…we look good. We were going to save our pride colors for tonight, but it’s awesome to see everyone in the booth wearing their pride already. We’re a walking flag. It’s amazing.

  On the positive side, Mr. Wallace won a latte and Mrs. Connick won the Double Dare Brownie I didn’t get to keep the other day. Oh, and Mrs. Yancy, one of the office secretaries, told us she loved the effort we made on ‘making the booth pop’.

  In other words, the adults are kinda swarming us. Also not a good sign. They’re either feeling sorry because nobody’s coming near the booth, or they were secretly ordered by Mr. Reason to come by. Either way, not feeling awesome right now. I only have to look around at the other booths to see where everybody is. Not here, obviously.

  “Have you noticed something?” Marc asks, waking me from my self-imposed pity-party-of-one.

  “Huh?”

  The Wheel of Pride has been spinning constantly. It
’s this monotonous ever-beating tah-tah-tah-tah-tah-tah-tah of annoyance. Funny, when I first saw it the other day all decorated and new, that sound was music to my ears. Now, it’s merely punctuating our segregation. They’re only spinning it to attempt to get the attention of passers-by. Not like anyone’s coming near the booth.

  Marc moves in closer to be heard over the spinning.

  “I said, are you noticing something?”

  “No. What?” I’m really not in the mood for guessing games.

  “Will Severe.”

  This perks me up. Guess I’ve been in my own little world.

  “What about Will?”

  “Since I started to count, he’s walked past the booth six times.”

  “Shut up. Seriously?”

  “Ezra, maybe I’m crazy…but it looks like it’s you he’s looking at each time he comes by. And he’s trying to make it look like he’s not looking.”

  “If he has a problem with me, now is probably not a good time to talk to me about it. If people don’t start coming around, I might destroy something.”

  If Will thinks he can attack me today, he’s in for a surprise. The way I’m feeling, I’d beat him using my pissed-off adrenalin alone.

  “Maybe that’s not what it’s about, Ez. You talked to him the other day. You said he was wiped. Maybe he listened to you about the whole football thing.”

  I laugh…okay, a sarcastic laugh.

  “Yeah. Will Severe listened to a fag. That’s a good one, Marc.”

  “If we want other people to stop calling gay people fags, maybe we should all stop using the word ourselves.”

  Of course he’s right. He’s going to make a good president one day.

  I notice Hank is eavesdropping on us. He’s manning the wheel right now, spinning it for Mr. Tonklin, the shop teacher. Mr. Tonklin is chanting, “Red, red, red…” as though his life depends on the wheel stopping on the red pie. I’m almost positive Mr. Reason paid all the other teachers to participate. It’s sad, really. Now I know what goes on in the teachers’ lounge. Bribery.

  I make eye contact with Hank. He smiles. As the wheel stops, he puts on a show of being excited. “Ah! Look at that! No red for you, Mr. T. Looks like orange is your signature color today. What have we got here?”