Play Me, I'm Yours [Library Edition]

by Madison Parker

  Someone stepped on Alex’s foot and he yelped. “Watch the heels!”

  Once Mrs. Jacobs set up the shot, she took her place on the end. “Lucas,” she said, “Will you take the picture for us?”

  “Yeah, Lucy. Take the picture,” one of the guys called out, followed by a bunch of laughter.

  Alex watched Lucas take the camera from Mrs. Jacobs. He wondered why she hadn’t said anything about the “Lucy” comment. Surely she’d heard it. Surely she could see that Lucas was upset. It was so typical of teachers—turning a blind eye when they didn’t feel like dealing with shit.

  Everyone stared at Lucas now that he had the camera. The guy looked miserable. Alex hated to see people picked on, especially people who couldn’t defend themselves. Lucas was an easy target. He was kind of a sissy, and he was quiet; he never said anything back. Alex felt bad for the guy. He’d seen the Facebook pictures Chris had posted a couple of weeks ago. That was not cool. What an asshole. Alex could think of plenty of ways to get his kicks that didn’t involve picking on people for the way they looked. Or walked, in his sister’s case.

  They hadn’t gotten much work done by the time afternoon announcements began. “And now… the moment you’ve all been waiting for… your votes for the best Gender Bender Day costumes have been tallied. In third place… Stacey Johnson.” Stacey wasn’t in this class, but he’d seen her earlier in the day. She dressed up like Mr. T, faux mohawk and all. He had to admit it was a great costume. She deserved to win.

  “In second place… Alex Goodman.”

  “Yes!” Alex jumped up and raised his arms in victory, nearly falling on his ass as he struggled to balance in his heels. The class cheered for him as he regained his poise and made his best attempt at a curtsey.

  “And in first place—drumroll, please… badabadabadabadabum … Lucas Tate!”

  The class exploded with laughter and began to chant. “Lucy! Lucy! Lucy!”

  Alex glanced over at Lucas, who looked stunned.

  “Winners, please report to the guidance office to claim your prize and get your photo taken for the yearbook.”

  Lucas was frozen in his spot, his face a bright shade of pink.

  It was time for some damage control.

  “Wait a minute. Wait just a minute,” Alex said.

  The chanting ceased as all eyes turned toward him.

  “I’ve been robbed. Seriously. I am way prettier than Lucas.” Alex flicked his hair back and puffed out his chest. “He doesn’t even have tits.”

  That got a laugh, and Alex turned to see Lucas run for the door.

  MASON stormed out of the school entrance and over to his brother’s car.

  Lucas sat inside, slouched against the steering wheel.

  Mason yanked open the passenger door and climbed in, slamming it shut behind him. “What the fuck, Lucas.”

  Lucas didn’t respond. He didn’t even look over. He simply started up the car and pulled out of the lot.

  Mason let out a yell of frustration. “Do you know how much shit I have to put up with because of you?”

  As soon as they’d announced Lucas the winner of Gender Bender Day, Mason’s class had gone crazy, laughing and cracking jokes. Then they turned and heckled him.

  “Dude, your brother’s a fag.”

  “Better lock your door at night.”

  Jereme, in his best impression of a girl’s voice, had started moaning, “Oh yeah, Mason, give it to me.”

  Mason responded with a raised fist. “Shut the fuck up, Jereme.”

  He was tired of this shit. It wasn’t fair. How did he get stuck with a brother like Lucas?

  “Just because you’re a big queer doesn’t mean I’m one too.” He stared at his brother for a moment but got no reply. “You are one, right?” he spat with as much venom as he could muster.

  Lucas’s eyes were watery and his bottom lip quivered.

  They rode in silence for several minutes; then Mason said, “Why can’t you go to a different school?”

  “Why can’t you?”

  “I’m not the freak.”

  LUCAS had just finished straining the spaghetti when he heard his mom come home.

  “Lucas, you’re a godsend,” she said as she entered the kitchen. “I’m famished. Should I call the boys for dinner?”

  Lucas nodded and pulled the garlic bread out of the oven. At least someone appreciated his efforts.

  Conversation around the dinner table was awkward.

  “I thought you were gonna make the squash tonight, honey,” his mom said.

  Lucas glanced at Mason who, by the look on his face, was still upset with him. “I changed my mind.”

  His mom smiled. “How was school today?”

  Mason shot him a glare that seemed to say, “Tell them and you’ll die.”

  “It was fine,” Lucas said, looking down at his plate.

  “Mason? How was your day, sweetie?”

  “Fine.”

  His mom sighed. “It’s like pulling teeth.”

  She was more successful in her attempts to talk to his dad. She told him about a new listing she’d acquired on Meddleton Avenue. Apparently they had “the most fabulous pergola,” and his mom and dad were discussing the possibility of replicating it in the backyard. His mom beamed as she ran through the list of climbing plants suitable for their climate.

  His dad seemed excited to have a new outdoor project. “What do you think, Mason? You wanna help your old man build this thing?”

  “Sure, Dad. What do we have to do?”

  And just like that, his dad and Mason were off in their own world, talking about power saws and sanders.

  If not for his mom’s sympathetic smiles, Lucas could’ve been invisible.

  “How’s your music class going?” she said. “I bet Mrs. Davidson is impressed with you.”

  He told her that Mrs. Davidson had asked him to perform in the upcoming school fund-raiser event. They needed a background pianist for one of the musical numbers.

  Mason couldn’t resist butting in. “They’re making the football players dance. Can you believe it? No way you’d see me up there.”

  “No?” she said. “What kind of dancing?”

  Mason shrugged. “I don’t know. The twirling kind.”

  “Swing dancing,” Lucas said. “The football players are dancing with the cheerleaders.”

  “Ooh, that sounds like fun,” his mom said. “Don’t knock it ’til you’ve tried it, Mason. What do you think, Lucas?”

  Lucas tried to picture himself swing dancing with a cheerleader. It was ridiculous. He couldn’t imagine himself leading anyone on the dance floor. “I think I’ll stick to playing the piano.”

  HIS mom managed to convince his dad and Mason to clear the table and do the dishes. She used the opportunity to talk to Lucas alone. “Sweetheart, I met a very nice young man this afternoon. He says he knows you from school.”

  “Mom, please.” He wasn’t up for another one of her lectures.

  “Lucas, it’s not healthy for a boy your age to be alone all the time. You need to make friends.”

  “I’m fine, Mom.”

  “Lucas, you’re not fine.”

  “I can make my own friends.”

  “He seems like a nice boy. His name is Alex.”

  Lucas frowned. “Alex who?”

  “I don’t remember his last name. He walks Mrs. Walters’ dogs. I gave him your phone number.”

  “Oh my God. Mom! You can’t just give people my phone number. What did you say to him?”

  “Don’t worry, honey. I just told him I thought the two of you would get along well, and he should give you a call sometime.”

  “What? Why did you say that?”

  “We were chatting after he returned from walking Mrs. Walters’ dogs. She’s the one with the house for sale on Meddleton Avenue. A lovely colonial with navy-blue shutters. Anyway, he mentioned he was on his way to pick up his sister from her physical therapy. Poor dear. Apparently she has some ty
pe of congenital birth defect. She has trouble walking on her left leg.”

  “Mom!”

  “Okay, okay. I told him I had a son his age, and when I mentioned your name, he said he knew you. He said you were nice.”

  “You’re my mom. What was he supposed to say? That I’m a freak and he hates me?”

  “Darling, don’t talk like that. Of course he wouldn’t say that. You’re getting all worked up over nothing.”

  “If he wanted to talk to me, don’t you think he could talk to me at school?”

  “Sometimes people need a little push.”

  “Mom, please don’t ever do that again. What if he gives my number out?”

  “You have to learn to trust people, Lucas.”

  Trust people. Yeah, he had tried that recently, and it hadn’t turned out well for him. He hoped Mystery Boy Alex would crumple up his number and throw it away. Or flush it down the toilet. Or light it on fire. This had disaster written all over it. He knew of a few boys named Alex. He hoped it wasn’t Alex Goodman. That was the boy who had witnessed his utter humiliation earlier today. The boy who got a big laugh out of dressing in women’s clothing. One of the popular crowd whose mission in life seemed to involve ridiculing Lucas Tate at every possible turn. Could his day get any worse?

  Mason poked his head around the corner. “Dad and I are going out to the store. Be back later.”

  Lucas sighed. They were probably going out to buy man tools. Or chips and beer. Or jock straps, he thought bitterly.

  His mom gave him a compassionate look. “I know you feel left out, honey. I’m sorry. How about we make some popcorn and watch a movie? We’ll have a girls’ night in.”

  A girls’ night in? After everything he’d been through today, that really stung. It was too much. He bit his lower lip to keep it from quivering.

  His mom quickly realized her mistake. “I didn’t mean it like that, honey. I’m sorry.”

  She reached out to give him a hug, but he pulled away. “I’m really tired,” he said. “I’m going to bed.”

  “Honey, I’m sorry,” she tried again, but Lucas was already on his way up the stairs.

  Chapter Four

  I Kissed a Girl

  FROM the piano bench, Lucas had a clear view of the auditorium. The seats were empty, aside from the backpacks and other personal belongings strewn about the first few rows. He watched from offstage as he waited for his turn to rehearse.

  The swing dancers took their places on stage, ready to run through the routine for tomorrow night’s show. Lucas’s gaze drifted toward Alex Goodman. He wondered if he was the boy his mother had met last week. Mystery Boy Alex hadn’t called. Lucas was filled with both relief and disappointment. He’d concocted all sorts of scenarios in his head, each ending in him making a new friend.

  He wondered what it would be like to be friends with Alex. Everyone seemed to like him. The girl he was dancing with sure seemed to like him. Lucas eyed her as she flirted with Alex in between takes. She smoothed her hand along his arm and squeezed his bicep before twirling the end of her ponytail in her fingers. It was obvious, even to Lucas, who’d never flirted with anyone, that she was begging for Alex’s attention. Alex seemed to take it in stride, though, without returning her affection.

  Lucas could see why the girls liked him. Alex’s football jersey hugged his body in all the right places. Lucas didn’t know what position Alex played, but whatever it was, Lucas was sure he was good at it. He looked like a natural athlete. And he was a pretty good dancer too. He was strong, able to lift his partner with ease. Lucas watched as Alex wrapped an arm around the girl’s waist, holding her tightly as he spun her around.

  What would it be like to dance like that? To have strong arms wrap around him and pull him in close?

  “Lucas!”

  He jerked his head as he heard his name.

  “Sorry I’m late.” Trish plopped down on the bench and nudged him with her hip to give herself some room. “Looks like I didn’t miss anything, though. How are you? Are you ready?”

  He nodded.

  “Don’t be nervous,” she said. “You’re so good. Are you gonna try out for the winter talent show? You really should. You’d be amazing.”

  He’d only met Trish last week when they were paired up to perform her rendition of Katy Perry’s “I Kissed a Girl.” She’d warmed up to him quickly, throwing her arms around him once he’d agreed to play the song for her. He wasn’t used to that kind of attention, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. But she seemed pleased to be in his company, which helped some.

  “So what do you think?” she said. “Are you gonna try out?”

  “I don’t know. I haven’t really thought about it.”

  “There’s nothing to think about. Of course you are. A talent like yours isn’t meant to be hidden away.”

  “You sound like Mrs. Davidson.”

  His teacher had said something similar when she asked Lucas to help with the fund-raiser. He felt gun-shy after what had happened at the harbor, but when she told him there was a student who really needed him and that it involved a Katy Perry number, he couldn’t say no.

  “Well, it’s the truth,” said Trish.

  Lucas averted his eyes as she adjusted the top of her strapless dress.

  “How do I look?”

  Lucas smiled at her. “You look nice.”

  “Just nice?”

  “You look great.”

  She raised her hand to her chest in mock despair. “Tell me I look fabulous, or I won’t be able to go on.”

  Lucas chuckled. “You look fabulous.”

  He knew she was a theater geek, and he wondered how much of her exuberance was an act. He didn’t mind it, though. In any case, she did look fabulous. Her long auburn hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders. Her light-brown eyes were accentuated with bold black eyeliner and heavy mascara, and her lips were a shiny pink to match the rouge on her cheeks. Her features weren’t slender or delicate, but she looked glamorous nonetheless.

  “Thank you, Boo,” she said, smiling at him.

  “Boo?”

  “Yeah, Boo. Better than Poo.” She poked the end of his nose playfully. “Deal with it.”

  Lucas smiled back at her.

  “Hey, you’re coming to the cast party tomorrow night, right?”

  “I don’t know. I may just go home after the show.”

  “No way. You have to come. It’ll be fun. You can hang out with me and Donovan.”

  Lucas tensed.

  She must have noticed, because she quickly said, “What’s wrong? You don’t like Donovan?”

  “Um. I don’t think he likes me very much.”

  “Nonsense. He doesn’t know you.”

  “Is Donovan your boyfriend?”

  That made her laugh. “For God’s sake, Lucas, what on earth would make you think Donovan is my boyfriend?”

  Lucas blushed, realizing he’d said something stupid. Donovan was gay. It was public knowledge. He made no attempts to hide it. In fact, he openly flirted with other guys in class sometimes. Never with Lucas, but with some of the jock types. Most of them seemed to think it was funny. Lucas didn’t know how Donovan got away with it. Sure, some people cracked jokes or called Donovan names, but they always seemed to bounce off him.

  Maybe it was his “ultracool” image that made him popular. Donovan always looked like he’d just walked off a fashion shoot. Lucas didn’t know much about fashion, but he was sure Donovan wore nothing but the best brands, even down to his socks and underwear. Donovan’s hair, long and straight, was a dark chocolate brown and had a sheen to it like the models in shampoo commercials. He was tall and thin and moved with an air of confidence unlike anyone Lucas had ever known.

  He seemed to have a lot of friends too. Girls liked him. Guys liked him. Lucas wasn’t sure how he felt about Donovan, though. Donovan had a sharp tongue and could be mean sometimes. He’d called Lucas “Fairy Tate” in class one time.

  Another kid said, �
�Takes one to know one.”

  And Donovan retorted with, “Damn straight!”

  If the insult hadn’t been directed at him, Lucas would’ve appreciated the pun. Donovan was witty but usually at someone else’s expense.

  He shouldn’t have asked Trish if Donovan was her boyfriend, but he didn’t want to be presumptuous. Maybe Donovan liked girls too. He was still trying to feel out how he fit into her social circle, if at all.

  “I’m not his type, if you know what I mean,” Trish said. “Not that I’d want to be. Can you keep a secret?”

  Lucas hesitated, unsure of what she might say. Would she tell him she liked girls? After all, she was preparing to go on stage and sing about kissing a girl and liking it. He wasn’t sure he could deal with a revelation that big or that personal from someone he barely knew.

  “I’d much rather be Zach Teagan’s type,” she said in a hushed voice.

  Lucas knew exactly who she was talking about. Zach Teagan had the body of a Greek god, a body Lucas had seen on display in Speedos more times than he could count.

  “Do you know him?”

  “He’s in my English class first period.”

  “Oh really?” She raised an eyebrow. “I’ll have to remember that.”

  Lucas glanced back over to Alex and wet his lips.

  “Got your eye on someone?” Trish said.

  He quickly shook his head.

  “Don’t waste your time with them. Jocks are jerks, and cheerleaders are prissy bitches.”

  He drew back, a little startled.

  “I love to dance,” she said, crossing her arms. “And I’ve always wanted to learn swing. I asked them if I could be in the number, and they said no. The girls took a vote right in front of me. Not one of them wanted to let me in. Cheerleaders only, they said.”

  “Sorry. I’m sure you would’ve been good.”

  “Whatever.” She waved her hand. “I got a solo act instead, right? Things have a way of working out in the end. One day I’ll have a boyfriend who likes to dance.”

  Lucas nodded. He wished he had her optimism.