by Andrea Speed
II.
MY DATE with Billy was hanging over my head like the sword of Damocles as I stood in my cartoon boxers and stared with utter hopelessness into my closet. It was a date, after all, but how dressed-up should I get? If I went too dressy, would it scare my best friend away? Too casual and he might lose the feeling of the day’s consequence. Caught somewhere in between, I grabbed a hunter green button-up my mom had once said brought out my eyes, along with a pair of black jeans. Sneakers that didn’t smell too rank would have to do. Was cologne too much? What about hair gel? Everything was starting to swirl in my head, which was starting to convince me that maybe this wasn’t such a great idea after all.
I was pulled from my thoughts by the sound of the doorbell. “I’ll get it!” I yelled too quickly and darted down the stairs to grab the door. God only knew what Billy would be wearing, and if my mom saw, she might… I don’t even know what.
I opened the door and stared in shock for just a moment. For once, Billy had brushed his shaggy brown hair up out of his cornflower eyes, and his crooked little smile was absolutely perfect. He had light blue jeans on that hugged his legs and a tight black workout shirt under an open navy polo.
“Hey,” I managed, a little out of breath.
He smiled and stepped inside, looking me over like he’d never seen me before. “Hey, yourself. I, uh… I didn’t know if I should bring flowers or anything, but my dad said we could borrow his car.” He stopped talking then, and it took me a second to realize that was because I was kissing him. I couldn’t get over the softness of his lips or that I was actually allowed to touch them with mine. He tasted kind of minty and smelled absolutely amazing, something warm and woody that was getting a warm woody reaction from me as well.
I pulled away, hopefully before he could feel it and run away. “Sorry, it’s just you look amazing and… never mind. The car is great, and I don’t need flowers or….” I closed my mouth to keep from embarrassing myself further and turned back toward the stairs. “I just need to grab my wallet. I’ll be right back.”
As if nothing changed, as if this weren’t a date or anything else awkwardly trying to transition from friendship into something more, Billy followed me up the stairs and down the hall to my room. I tried, and failed, not to wonder if he watched my ass, then tried not to dwell on whether he may have liked it or not. I fumbled for a minute, wondering which pocket I should put my wallet in and whether it would seem like I was trying to draw his eyes to my butt, or worse, my dick, then finally settled on shoving it in the back pocket I always do while I tried to make conversation. “So, did you know which movie you wanted to see, or…?”
I HAD to stop because he was right. There. Right in my face, with that boyish grin and a hell-on-wheels gleam in his eye.
“Whatever you want, Toby. I didn’t think you wanted to spend much time watching the movie anyway.”
I blushed so hard, I could have sworn I felt my hair turning red. Overnight, Billy’d apparently gotten so comfortable with the reality of dating that now it was like it had been his idea all along. I just hoped my color was back to normal by the time we got to the movie theater.
WE ENDED up seeing Transformers, or Terminator… I’m not sure which. Something with a T, lots of robots and explosions, with a few half-naked girls thrown in. We sat in the back, and Billy was right. We didn’t spend much time watching the movie. His kisses tasted like popcorn salt and cherry cola, and while part of me screamed we were going too fast, the rest of me knew this was a boy I’d known all my life. The man I was meant to be with, and nothing was going to stop me from getting to know the parts of him we’d only joked about before.
It was almost completely dark by the time the movie ended. My lips were bruised and sore, there was a giant hickey on the left side of my neck, and my pants had to be about three sizes smaller than when I had put them on.
Getting back to the car, Billy looked entirely too smug until he got behind the wheel, and one glimpse of boyhood uncertainty trekked across his features as he asked me quietly, “So what do you want to do now?”
I took a deep breath, ’cause I wasn’t sure what he was asking and told him so.
“I mean, do I take you home, or…? If you were a girl, I’d ask you to go parking, but….”
“I’m not ready for that.” I frowned and turned in my seat a bit. “One day, sure, but tonight, we should probably go home.” He nodded and started the car. I sat back, lost in troubled thoughts. I watched the streetlights come on and the red, green, and white lights wash across Billy’s handsome face from the moment we left the theater until he pulled into my driveway. “Are you really all right with this? ’Cause I’m never gonna be a girl, Billy. Are you really okay with me being your boyfriend?”
He looked at me a minute, then shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”
I don’t think I’ve ever been so angry in my life. “You guess? No, Billy, you don’t guess at this, goddammit! You’re either okay with us dating or you’re not!”
“Yeah, then, I am. Geez.” His face was completely freaked as he started to shake his head. “I just don’t think this is as big a deal as you do, Tobes.”
Despite the warmth of him falling back on a childhood nickname, I felt my heart sink and started to get out of the car, but he grabbed my elbow and kept hold of me. “What I mean is, I’m still trying to get used to everything, but I don’t have a problem with how things are going. As long as we keep going, keep things between us natural. I’d tell you if I had a problem. I don’t want you to be a girl; I just don’t know how to date a guy. I don’t know what’s different, except… well, that. But you’re my best friend, and you like me. And I like you too. You’re just making a way bigger deal out of us being dudes than I think about. All I know is you’re Toby. You’re my best friend, and I like how it feels when you kiss me.” He smiled and reached up to cup my cheek, his palm warm and tentative against my skin. “Like I said, I’m still getting used to this, but I like it just the same.”
I slumped in the seat, overcome with relief and the smallest glimmer of hope. “What time do you have to be home? We could order pizza or something, if your folks don’t mind.”
His folks didn’t mind, and I think I like pepperoni kisses most of all.
III.
THE WALK to school on Monday was almost normal as we both groaned about homework and bickered over which class was our favorite. Billy didn’t mention our date, but I didn’t feel the need to either. The air was still crisp but starting to warm up as the morning sun glowed over the rooftops and painted the sidewalk gold. But inside, I kept feeling a cold and sorrowful pit in my stomach, something that made me desperate to tone down, walk slower, and hold on to the weekend as long as possible. Something more than normal back-to-school blues.
It was like my term paper, finals, and every project I’d ever had was all due the minute we set foot on campus, and I hadn’t started one of them. I should be home, faking sick, and getting my mom to call in for me. Maybe we could still turn around, and I could convince Billy to skive off with me and spend the day watching crappy TV with a big bowl of cereal. But it was too late. We were spotted just off campus by some girls in our class, and then we were right in front of the big glass front doors of the most foreboding beige building in the history of time, save the Colosseum.
Billy turned around when he realized I’d stopped outside and came back out to find me. “Hey, Tobes…. Class is that way.” He pointed off over his shoulder. “You coming?”
I shook my head and sighed. “I don’t know what to do. We never talked about school and… and… us.”
Billy got that look on his face, the one that said I was being a drama queen again, but he knew better than to call me one to my face. “We don’t need to talk, we need to get to class, and I want to get a seat in the back with my boyfriend. Now are you coming or not?”
I smiled then. It must have been the frumpiest thing ever, because it even felt crooked, and that’s when Billy laughed as he
always did when I was being a doofus. But then, Billy also took another step toward me and reached down to grab my sweaty palm as his other hand cupped my face. The whole world stopped as his face dropped down to mine in a chaste and simple kiss right on my lips in front of everyone.
My heart leapt. My skin tingled. My brain felt like a sandcastle washed away by the waves my stomach made as it flip-flopped inside me, all from a simple kiss. As he pulled away, he didn’t let go of my hand and gave it another infinitesimal tug, urging me to follow him inside like I would on any other day.
All the bombs and fireworks going on inside my head, all the frozen time where we were the center of the universe, was the exact opposite of what went on around us. Nobody stopped. Nobody stared. Nobody cared. Except Billy, who cared about me, and that was all I needed.
NICK HASSE, always full of imagination and a passion for reading, began writing to pass the time between classes in college. After years of fictional roleplay and at the insistence of other befriended writers, Nick began pursuing writing professionally. The Texas native can be found at home with his pets between working the glamorous life of retail, attending classes, and spending time with family and friends.
BEAUTIFUL
ELLA LYONS
SITTING ON the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by more containers and tubes and tiny pots of glittery powder than one person could possibly be expected to keep track of, Duncan Oakes couldn’t help but feel like this had been a bad decision. Across from him, Duncan’s best friend, Abby Vail, was explaining the difference between eyeliner and mascara, but her voice was little more than a murmuring that swept right past Duncan’s ears. His heart was thudding so hard he was surprised Abby couldn’t hear it.
“Duncan,” Abby said softly, startling him out of his head. He snapped his gaze away from the pile of makeup and looked at Abby, who was giving him her softest smile. “You okay?”
“Fine,” Duncan said tightly. He picked up a long purple tube and waved it at Abby. “What’s this again?”
Abby reached out and wrapped her hand around Duncan’s. Her fingers were so slim and graceful. Her nails were filed into sweet little ovals and painted a pretty, sunny yellow. In comparison, Duncan’s hands looked clumsy and huge. His knuckles were too thick, and his cuticles were a ragged disaster. At least they weren’t hairy. He shaved them in the shower every morning. It was one of the few considerations he allowed himself.
“You know we don’t have to do this. It doesn’t have to be now.” Abby squeezed his hand and shrugged. “There will be other days, you know? Your parents will go out of town again, and we can do this then, if you’re not ready now.”
Duncan dropped the tube from his sweaty hand and wiped his palm on his shorts. Abby was right, of course. They didn’t have to do this now. They didn’t have to do this ever, really. Duncan could shove all Abby’s makeup things back into the huge bag she’d dumped them out of and tell her to forget it, and she would. Abby was that kind of friend. She’d pack everything back up, and they could go downstairs and go swimming and eat drippy popsicles all weekend long, and she wouldn’t bring it up again.
Except… except Duncan did have to do it. He had to try, because the idea of it had been seeded in the back of his mind for as long as he could remember, and it wasn’t getting any better. No matter how much of a guy’s guy Duncan tried to be, no matter how many sports he played or how many girls he kissed or how many hours he spent in the gym, Duncan couldn’t help but feel like he was wrong inside his own skin. Try as he might, it wasn’t going away.
“No,” Duncan said. “No, I want to.”
Abby raised her eyebrows. “You’re sure?”
“No,” Duncan said. “But….” He shrugged. “You’re already here.” It was a flimsy excuse, and they both knew it, but there was a reason why Abby was the person Duncan trusted with this. She had hardly even batted an eyelash when he’d come out to her a year ago, telling her he felt more like a girl than he did a boy. She’d simply nodded and started calling him Dee Dee. It played as a joke around everyone else, a silly nickname between two people who’d been friends since they were toddlers, but to Duncan, it was the entire world. And when he’d screwed up his courage and asked Abby if she’d show him how to put on makeup while his parents were away at a couples retreat, Abby had sighed, rolled her eyes with a grin, and demanded three kinds of ice cream as payment.
Duncan had made good on his side of the deal. The ice cream was in the freezer downstairs—double chocolate cherry, caramel swirl, and that gross one with all the peanut butter—and now Abby was ready to make good on hers, if Duncan could quell the nerves threatening to send him screaming from the room.
“Did you shave really well?” Abby reached out and took Duncan’s chin in her hand. She tipped his face this way and that, peering at his jaw critically. “Looks pretty good.”
“Pretty good?”
Abby grinned and pushed him away. “When you start shaving your underarms, we’ll talk. Do you want me to tell you what I’m doing, or do you want me to just do it?”
“I don’t know. Either, I don’t care,” Duncan said. He wiped his hands on his shorts again. Shit, they were sweating like mad. He should have turned the air up. He was going to sweat right through his shirt at this rate. Maybe he should go put on another swipe of deodorant before they got started.
Was girl deodorant different than boy deodorant? It smelled better, surely. Sometimes Duncan snuck into his mom’s bathroom and took the caps off her products and filled up his lungs with the soft floral scents. So much better than the Arctic Explosion or whatever the hell it was she bought for him.
“I’m not going to do your eyebrows because, well. Because.”
Duncan nodded and poked the pile of products. “Because they won’t grow back before the weekend is over.”
“Nope,” Abby said, popping the p and flipping her long red hair over her shoulder. It fell down her back in a tangle of curls. Duncan had always loved Abby’s curls. She’d taught him how to braid them when they were in the sixth grade, and sometimes she’d sit on the floor in front of him while they watched movies, letting him wind the thick strands into braids. “Because the first time hurts like a mother. The first twenty times, really. After that the skin just gives up, I guess, because it stops feeling like being stabbed by a million scorpions. Besides, thick brows are coming back into fashion. And yours are so pale that you don’t even really need that much shaping. I can probably do something with powder.”
As she talked, Abby sorted through the tubes and brushes and tiny little plastic boxes, occasionally lifting up this thing or that and holding it up to Duncan’s face. She pulled a horrible expression and dropped a container of something purple back to the floor. “That’s horrible. Why do I even own that?”
Abby’s easy, nonchalant manner made the tightness in Duncan’s chest ease up a little. To hear her ramble on, they might as well have been talking about finals or their upcoming senior year. Not something as life-altering and terrifying as the idea of changing everything physical about yourself.
Duncan breathed in slowly through his nose, then out through his mouth. Smell the flowers, blow out the candles, his mom used to say. Today wasn’t the time for that. Right now wasn’t the time for that. Today he just had to put on some makeup. That was all today was about.
When Abby touched Duncan’s face again, he gasped and jerked out of her touch. “Easy, Dee,” she said, dragging her fingers down his cheek. “I’m just going to put some moisturizer on you, okay? Not even makeup yet. Just going to smooth everything out, okay?”
“I’m fine,” Duncan lied.
“Of course you are,” Abby said smoothly. She squirted a little blob of white stuff into her palm and rubbed her fingers into it. “I don’t want to put too much on. Your freckles are so sweet. I don’t want to cover them up.”
“Okay,” Duncan said as Abby reached up and swiped her fingers down the bridge of his nose. He forced himself to be still and let
it happen. He couldn’t imagine what they looked like, sitting in the middle of his bedroom floor, surrounded by piles of makeup and lotions and God knew what all. Abby was a tiny thing, barely five feet tall even at seventeen. Duncan had always felt huge compared to her, though he was actually one of the smallest guys in his class. Sometimes, when he let himself think about it, the idea of being small was really, really appealing. He liked to imagine boys towering over him, maybe picking him up like he was a small, dainty thing.
“Your skin is really good.”
“Um, thanks?”
“It is,” Abby said. “I’m jealous. I’m having this whole stress thing….” She waved a hand at her jawline. “My parents are all over me about early acceptance.”
“Are they?”
Abby gave him a withering look and reached for another lotion. This one was almost pink. She held it up to Duncan’s cheek and nodded. “Not perfect, but close enough for today, I think. This is tinted moisturizer. You don’t need foundation.” She grabbed a little foam egg and squirted the tinted moisturizer onto her palm. “My parents are losing their shit over colleges,” she went on, dabbing the egg into the moisturizer and wiping off the excess. “Just going to even everything out, okay? And, like, not all parents are as cool as yours. Dad says if I don’t get into a good undergrad program, I won’t have my choice of medical schools and then where will I end up? Look up.”
She started bouncing the egg around under Duncan’s eyes. Duncan tried to hold his face still. Was he supposed to be doing something with his eyebrows here? “I thought you wanted to go to medical school?”
“I do, but I’m seventeen. It’s the summer before my senior year. I could do with a little bit of—no, Dee, keep looking up—fun, you know? At least your parents are cool that you haven’t decided on a major yet.”
