Lucas bit his lip. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“It’s okay. I’ll answer.” Zach sighed. “I didn’t break up with him. He broke up with me.”
Lucas couldn’t imagine anyone wanting to break up with Zach. Zach was perfect. He wanted to ask why but was afraid of overstepping. Was it someone Lucas knew? How long ago had they broken up? What was he like? Was he anything like Lucas?
“I’ll tell you about it some other time if you really want to know. I don’t want to spoil the mood right now.”
“Okay. Ask me one of yours.”
“Are you closer to your mom or your dad?”
“You’d think that would be an easy one, wouldn’t you? I don’t know.” Lucas thought for a moment. “When I was younger, my mom was my best friend. She made me feel special, you know? I mean, she made me feel good about myself. Mason always wanted to go outside and play with his friends, but I always wanted to stay with my mom. If she was busy, she’d give me paper and tell me to write a poem. I’m sure you can imagine how awful those poems were, but she always told me she loved them. She hung them on the fridge.”
“Do you still have them? I bet they’re awesome.”
“No, they were ridiculous. My mom is nice, like pork fried rice.”
They both laughed.
“I was so used to thinking in rhyme, I probably damaged my brain at some point. I had an imaginary friend named LundoChundoFlundoBundo.”
Zach snickered.
“I’m not even joking. That was his name.”
Zach leaned in and gave him a quick peck on the nose.
“But it’s different now. We’re not really close anymore.”
“Because you’re gay?”
“No. I don’t think so. I mean, I think she’s always known that. Or at least it didn’t come as a surprise. Things changed around middle school. She started pushing me away. I guess she didn’t want me to be so clingy, you know? She wanted me to be more independent. She kept telling me to act a certain way—a different way—so I would make friends. So people would like me better. That hurt, you know? I felt like I wasn’t good enough anymore.”
Zach held him tighter. “Have you talked to her about it?”
“Sort of. She just doesn’t get it. She’s not like me. She’s always been a social butterfly. She’ll walk up to anyone and just start talking. Everyone likes her. I know she thinks I could be like that too if I tried harder, but I’m not wired that way. She doesn’t understand how hard it is, how my mind just takes a vacation whenever I’m put on the spot. Or sometimes I have the opposite problem. I’ll be listening to someone talk and my mind kicks into overdrive, thoughts streaming left and right, and before I know it, I realize I haven’t heard a word the person said. I don’t do it on purpose.”
“I get it. I’m more of an introvert myself. I spend a lot of time thinking about things too.”
“Yeah, but at least you’re well adjusted.”
Zach laughed. “What makes you say that? I’ve got my share of hang-ups too.”
“Like what?”
“Well… my dad left when I was thirteen. It was around the same time I realized I was attracted to boys. I felt so ashamed and guilty. I thought I’d driven him away, that he’d somehow found out and didn’t want me anymore. I broke down one night and told my mom. I told her how sorry I was and begged her to make him come back.”
“What did she say?”
Zach was quiet for some time, then said, “She told me it was too late.”
“But she told you it wasn’t your fault, right?”
“No. She just said it was too late. She told me not to tell anyone else I was gay, or they’d turn against me too.”
“What?” Lucas sat up. “It wasn’t your fault. Even if he did think you were gay—and really, how would he know? You don’t act gay. But even if he did know, that’s no reason for him to leave your mom. I’m sure that wasn’t the reason. What did your dad say?”
“Nothing. I only saw him a few times after that. He came around less and less, and then not at all.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“No. And I don’t want to.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What about your dad? You never finished answering your question.”
“Oh. Yeah. Well, as long as we’re pouring our hearts out….” Lucas let out a nervous laugh and plopped back down on the pillow. “There’s not a whole lot to tell. We don’t have much in common, and he’s quiet like me, so we’re not real close. It bothers me sometimes that he does so much with Mason and not me, but I sort of understand it. I mean, if I wanted to play sports or help him tinker in the garage, I think he’d be happy to include me.”
“Yeah, but he’s your dad. He’s supposed to support your interests, not the other way around.”
“I guess.” Lucas shrugged. “He doesn’t really like me playing piano, though.”
“Really?” Zach seemed surprised. “Why not?”
“I don’t know. It’s too girly, I guess.”
“That’s crazy. You’re so talented. Like it’s not even a choice, but a calling.”
Lucas smiled. He loved that Zach admired his music. It was a huge part of his life. To separate the two would be heartbreaking.
“How does he feel about you being gay?”
“That’s a mystery. Like I said, he doesn’t say much. The funny thing is, though, he seems to understand how I’m feeling sometimes, more so than my mom does. It’s weird, ’cause my mom should be the sympathetic one, right?”
Zach snorted. “You’re asking the wrong guy. My mom’s a bitch pretty much all the time.”
“Sorry.”
Lucas wanted to kick himself for complaining about his parents. After hearing about Zach’s family, Zach probably thought he was a brat.
“Not your fault. You’re lucky you have two parents who love you.”
“I know. I know they love me, I just wish they loved me, you know?”
“C’mere,” Zach said.
Lucas nestled his head against Zach’s chest.
“I like this,” Zach said.
Lucas smiled. He’d never been so happy.
They snuggled for a few more minutes, and then Zach said, “I think we’re down to our last round of questions. Let’s see….”
Zach dug into Lucas’s pocket again.
Lucas struggled to remain calm. He reminded himself that Zach’s mom was still in the house. If she were gone, things would surely heat up again quickly.
Zach smiled as he read Lucas’s last question. “When did you first realize you liked me?”
Lucas was originally going to ask “What do you like about me?” but decided that would sound too much like he was fishing for compliments. And his painful encounter with Donovan was still too close to the surface to revisit so soon.
“Well, I’ve always liked you. But you mean liked you in more than a friendly way, right?”
Lucas nodded into Zach’s chest.
“The first week of school. I was having a particularly bad day—I skipped swim practice.”
“You? Skipped practice?”
“I know, right? Only time all year. I couldn’t handle it that day. Anyway, I was walking past the music room after school, and the doors were open, so I kinda stood there in the doorway and looked in. I don’t even know why. I was looking for a distraction, I guess. You were there, sitting at the piano, and a bunch of other kids were there too. The teacher introduced you, telling everyone if they worked hard and practiced every day, they’d be able to play whatever it was you were about to play by the end of the year.”
Lucas inhaled sharply. He knew exactly which day Zach was talking about. Mrs. Davidson had asked him to come in after school to help her demonstrate some advanced techniques to her new Piano II students.
“Lucas has exceptional talent, but what makes him special is his passion,” she explained, placing emphasis on that last word.
The ot
her kids snickered.
“Passion and perseverance,” she said. “You don’t play piano with your fingers; you play with your heart. You can train your fingers to go through the motions, but to what end? If you don’t play with your heart, no one will truly listen.”
Eyes rolled. Kids groaned.
She was right, of course, but how did she expect to get that message across to those kids? He’d witnessed the way most of them had stuttered through their performances the previous year. The ones who were the worst bragged about never practicing, about taking the class for an easy A. The ones who were actually good bragged about how quickly they memorized new pieces and then moved on to the next.
Beethoven’s Sonata Pathétique was a masterpiece and ought to be treated as such. It took Lucas six months before he was satisfied with the first movement. It was a deep piece that needed to sit under his fingers for quite some time, to grow and mature. It wasn’t meant to be rushed. If Mrs. Davidson wanted him to play it for them, he would. But he knew they wouldn’t appreciate it.
“As soon as you started playing, I was entranced,” Zach said. “It was so dramatic, so suspenseful. It made me feel… I don’t know… despair.”
Lucas ran through the piece in his mind as he recalled the performance. Opening with thunderous crashes, and then quickly gaining movement, the music was gloomy and powerful, beautiful and violent.
“Yeah, it always makes me feel sad when I play it,” Lucas said. “Almost more than I can bear sometimes. It’s tragic, but it’s beautiful.”
“You wanna hear something crazy, though?”
“Hmm?”
“When it was over, I felt better. I mean, I got choked up right at the very end. And then I just felt better. It was like musical therapy.”
Lucas smiled. “So you like me for my therapeutic ability?”
“No. It was what happened next that sealed the deal.”
Lucas sobered as he remembered what’d happened next. Had Zach been there that whole time? Once Lucas struck the final note of the movement, he was met with lukewarm applause. Mrs. Davidson was unexpectedly called down to the office and asked everyone to remain there until she returned.
“Did you guys recognize the piece?” Lucas said, trying to fill the silence, but he was met with blank stares. “It was Beethoven’s Sonata No. 8 in C minor. But most people are more familiar with the name Sonata Pathétique.”
“What does that mean in English?” one of the kids said.
“Pathétique means pathetic.”
“So you played a pathetic sonata?”
“Hey, that would make an awesome Internet meme,” another girl said. “Pathetic sonata is pathetic.”
Everyone laughed.
They were so immature.
“It was written over two hundred years ago,” Lucas said. “The word had a different connotation back then. The word pathetic was used to describe something that evoked sadness and compassion.”
“That does sound pathetic.”
Lucas sighed. So much for compassion, he’d thought.
“What I just played was the first movement. Most people consider it the most difficult of the three. The left-hand tremolos can be hard to learn. You have to work on keeping your hand relaxed.”
At that point, no one was even looking at him anymore. Talking to them was pointless.
“Do you want to hear the second movement while we wait? It’s a lot different from the first. It’s not as technically difficult either. You may find it easier to learn that one first.”
No one responded, but he decided to play it anyway. He knew they weren’t listening. He could hear their chatter, their laughter.
He was a third of the way into the piece when someone said, “Get over yourself. You can stop sucking up now. The teacher’s gone.”
Lucas stopped, stunned and hurt.
Another kid said, “It’s not like we’re gonna be tested on this.”
“I just thought you’d like to hear it,” Lucas said softly.
“Well, you thought wrong, Lulu.”
More than anything, he’d wanted to get up and leave. If there was one place in the entire school where Lucas should have been able to fit in, it was with the other music students. Weren’t people with common interests supposed to share some sense of fellowship? No. He was no more accepted here than he would have been on the football team.
“You saw all of that?” Lucas said to Zach.
“Yeah.”
“And watching me get picked on made you like me?”
“No. Not that. It’s hard to explain. It was the way you tried to teach them something during the downtime, not because they needed to know it, but because it was something you loved, and you thought they would love it too. You weren’t playing to show off. You were playing because you loved the music.”
Lucas nodded and took a deep breath, trying to keep his emotions in check.
“Don’t let them get to you,” Zach said. “They’re idiots.”
“What I didn’t tell them was Lady Gaga incorporated the first movement of the Sonata Pathétique into her music video for ‘Marry the Night’.”
“Really? That’s cool. They probably would have changed their minds if you had.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly why I didn’t. I mean, she’s amazing, and it’s great that she’s paying homage to the classics, but if the only reason they like the sonata is because Gaga played it, that’s the worst kind of insult.”
Lucas’s voice deepened. “First of all, it’s an incredible piece of music—a masterpiece. If they couldn’t appreciate it on its own, the way Beethoven wrote it, then how can they turn around and say it’s cool just because it’s in a Gaga video? And second, isn’t Lady Gaga’s message all about being an individual? Being true to yourself and not being ashamed of who you are? I’m pretty sure it’s not about being a lemming.”
Zach chuckled.
Lucas furrowed his brow. “What’s so funny?”
“I’ve never seen you get so worked up before. It’s obvious how much music means to you. That’s one of the things I like most about you.”
Lucas relaxed. “Thanks.”
“When did you know you liked me?” Zach said.
“No cheating. That’s not your last question.”
“No fun. Okay, I haven’t asked you my movie question. What movie has made you cry the most?”
“Oh God. As if I haven’t been emotional enough for one night.”
“Sorry. That’s my question, and I’m sticking to it.”
“Fine, let me think….”
“Too many to choose from?”
Lucas punched him playfully.
“It’s kind of embarrassing,” Lucas said.
“Tell me. I won’t laugh. I promise.”
“A.I.”
“You cry during American Idol?”
“No,” Lucas said, laughing. “Artificial Intelligence. It’s a Stephen Spielberg movie. Science fiction.”
“Oh. Haven’t seen it. What’s it about?”
“It’s about a little boy android named David who’s sent to live with a real family after they lose their son. David has an emotion chip that, when activated, enables him to love. But it can’t ever be deactivated, so once his mom triggers it, he loves her truly and deeply, forever and ever.”
Lucas teared up as he thought about it.
“What happens? Does she die?”
Lucas sniffled. “Worse. Their real son, who’s been cryogenically frozen, is brought back to life when they find a cure for him. And after he comes home, they don’t need David anymore.”
“That does sound sad.”
“That’s not even the saddest part,” Lucas said, his voice shaky. “David spends the rest of his life, which is basically eternity, trying to find a way to become a real boy so his mom will love him again.”
“Christ, Lucas. That’s about the saddest thing I’ve ever heard. Why would anyone want to watch that?”
“I’ve seen it five
times.”
“Your mom loves you, you know.”
“I know.”
“And you are a real boy.”
Sure. But it doesn’t always feel that way.
“You know how I know?” Zach said.
“How?”
“’Cause I’m only attracted to boys.” Zach squeezed Lucas’s ass. “And I’m really fucking attracted to you.”
Lucas smiled, then lifted his head and kissed Zach.
“So no more watching that crazy sad movie.”
“Did I mention it has Jude Law in it? And he’s a gigolo.”
“Gigolo?”
“A sex bot.”
“’Nuff said. Carry on.”
They laughed, although the mood was heavy and Lucas felt emotionally drained. They lay snuggled together until it was time for him to go home. Zach was already the best friend he’d ever had and so much more.
“Smile,” Zach said as he walked Lucas to his car.
Lucas smiled up at him.
“You okay?”
Lucas nodded. “Yeah, I’m just nervous about school tomorrow. I mean, people are gonna find out about us. Maybe we should keep a low profile.”
He didn’t want to cause further trouble for Mason. And there was Donovan to worry about. How would he react to the news? And the guys on Zach’s team might not take it well either.
“You mean I can’t throw you down on the teacher’s desk and have my way with you?”
Lucas laughed. “Better not.”
“How about the custodial closet?”
“No, definitely not. That’s the first place people look.”
Zach smiled at him. “It’ll be fine.”
Lucas hoped he was right.
Chapter Eighteen
Sonata Pathétique
LUCAS stood frozen in place, one hand clutching his backpack and the other gripping the door of his locker. He watched helplessly as Donovan barreled toward him. Lucas had hoped to make it through the day without a confrontation. He wanted to bolt, but his body failed him. What ever happened to “fight or flight?” He seemed incapable of either.
As Donovan drew closer, Lucas braced himself for impact. He flinched when Donovan slammed his locker shut.
Play Me, I'm Yours [Library Edition] Page 17
