by Andrea Speed
“Where is he?”
“With Marybeth. They went for a walk to talk about something happening with his work.” He sat on A.J.’s other side, and when A.J. didn’t say anything, he sampled the asparagus. “You haven’t touched your food. Is everything okay?”
“I guess I’m not hungry tonight.”
Cory looked into his eyes, and A.J. felt his honest concern. “Are you sure you’re all right?”
He nodded and sort of smiled, trying to hide a growing sadness that plagued him. Tomorrow his dad would put him on a plane, and the sadness would swell. He’d spend his empty days in the stables thinking of Cory. Nights would be worse. He’d do nothing but lie still in his bed and wish Cory were beside him.
From loudspeakers Elvis suddenly crooned “Can’t Help Falling in Love.”
“Aw,” Stacy mooned as Jamie led his bride to the dance floor. “They’re so cute.”
The three of them watched the couple dance. Soon, others headed for the parquet floor, and A.J. was stunned for a second time that night when two handsome men in tuxes embraced and swayed to the music. He glanced at Cory, who was eyeing them almost in awe.
“Who are those guys?” he asked.
“Ian and his husband,” Stacy piped, sounding proud to know them. “They got legally married in New York.” She exchanged a glance with Cory and smiled, looking proud to know him too.
Cory leaned toward him and whispered, “Why don’t you ask her to dance?”
The warm breath in his ear made him shudder. He stared at Ian and his husband, wondering how they’d met. Which one first confessed his love to the other? What had he risked to make his love known? They looked so happy dancing together that A.J. wanted his world to be like theirs. But it wouldn’t be if he got up and danced with Stacy. His world could only be like theirs if he risked everything. He carefully placed a trembling hand on Cory’s knee and answered: “Because I want to dance with you.”
Cory tensed and glanced around the room nervously, looking as though he didn’t want anyone to see A.J. touching him. He shook his head no.
A.J. jerked his hand away as though he’d been singed. His face burned when Stacy rose. He knew she was getting up to save Cory. She was going to rescue him by leading him to the dance floor. She crossed behind him and gently placed her hands on Cory’s shoulders. She leaned between them and said, “Don’t be afraid, Cory. No one’s going to hurt you here. Go dance with A.J.”
A tear rolled down Cory’s cheek, and she wiped it away.
“Okay,” he sniffled. “A.J., do you still want to dance with me?”
“More than anything.”
His heart soared when Cory stood and took his hand. He’d never been happier in his whole life. But as they walked toward the dance floor, he saw his dad and Marybeth enter the hall. Shit. They were going to see everything. When Marybeth spotted them, his panic grew. Had he seen her flinch? He squeezed Cory’s hand, afraid something terrible was about to happen. But her shock vanished, and she smiled at him, beautiful in her sapphire evening dress, and nodded to them to proceed. She clutched his dad’s arm, stopping him in his tracks, and whispered something in his ear. A.J. braced himself for his dad’s reaction. But he did not look their way. Instead he nodded and led her back out of the hall. Right then, A.J. wished more than anything that she would become his stepmom.
On the dance floor, he weaved them through couples until they were near Ian and his husband. Then, never having danced with anyone, let alone with another boy, he hesitated. Who put his hands where? When Elvis’s crooning gave way to the first notes of Madonna’s “Crazy for You,” Cory shyly put his arms around A.J. Suddenly, his hands knew exactly what to do. He pulled Cory close, their bodies touched, and he gazed into Cory’s blue eyes. Then he could stand it no longer. He closed his eyes and let their lips meet. His very first kiss was short and sweet. But when his lips parted from Cory’s, he was enchanted. He knew in his heart that Cory was the boy for him.
HE TIGHTENED his seat belt as the plane taxied down a runway. LAX was huge, but thanks to Marybeth’s instructions, he’d known exactly how to get to the right departure gate. She’d first dropped his dad off at the international terminal. A.J. thanked Tokyo for distracting his dad because he’d been surprisingly okay with the news about him and Cory. He promised to let A.J. break the news to his mom whenever he was ready. Marybeth left her Beetle in a parking garage and waited with A.J. in a domestic terminal until he needed to get in the security line. She’d surprised him with a going-away present. His own smartphone. “Your mom’s okay with this. Your dad spoke to her last night and told her you need one for emergencies. I programmed in numbers for Cory and me. I know you’ll be talking to him. But I want to hear from you too.”
Roaring, the plane lurched forward and picked up speed. The force of it pressed A.J. to his seat. He gripped his armrest and swore he would call Marybeth. Often. Maybe she could help convince his dad to let him move in with him. The plane went airborne and the force receded. He gazed out his window. Below, the vast Pacific rippled, and in the distance, a ferry jetted toward a rugged island’s harbor. The plane tilted, and California’s coastline came into view. Bays met cities, waves lapped white sand, and A.J. vowed that one day this would be his world.
ERIC GOBER won three Reader Views literary awards in 2014 for his YA novel, Secrets of the Other Side, including Best Fiction Book of the Year. His short fiction has appeared in various publications, including Best Gay Romance 2014, and is forthcoming in the anthology Stranded. He earned his MFA in creative writing from Wichita State University.
Eric grew up in Las Vegas, Nevada, the setting for his award-winning YA novel. He has lived in Arizona, Kansas, and the San Francisco Bay Area. Today he makes his home in Los Angeles, where he is at work on a new novel. For more information about Eric or to contact him, please visit www.ericgober.com.
IT’S IN THEIR KISS
KEVAY GRAY
I.
I CAN see the beauty in both girls and guys. I mean I’m a girl, so it’s sorta obvious I can see beauty in another girl. As for guys, it’s almost, like, expected that I find one and fall in love and marry one. The problem is, I like both. I mean, I’m attracted to both. I love the softness of a girl and the hardness of a guy. I want it all. My mom always said I was greedy. I guess this dilemma proves her point. It’s not entirely true, though. I mean, she’s pissed because her little white picket-fence dream for me is ruined, according to her.
It could be worse, though. At least she’s just hollering about the whole greedy issue rather than telling me she wants nothing to do with me. My mom has always been supportive of me. This, at times, makes the choices I make for myself hard. I always want to please her and make her happy. I have to draw the line somewhere, though. If I let her take my sexuality and put it in a nice little box with a bow, then I’m not being me.
Today is one of those lazy days. It’s Saturday morning, and I’m lying on my stomach in my pajamas in the bed, writing in my journal. I’m supposed to be getting together with Ezekiel and Frankie. Ezekiel, Frankie, and I have been friends since we were in diapers, and I think secretly that Ezekiel’s mom and my mom have been planning our wedding. Frankie is the girl I want to kiss. Ezekiel is the boy I want to kiss. I just haven’t gotten the courage to ask them.
Frankie is really Francesca Jenner. She just prefers to be called Frankie. She’s so cute, with dimples in her cheeks, black hair that curls perfectly at her shoulders, and the greenest eyes ever. Her skin? Whew! So smooth and creamy, with lips that have the cutest pucker to them. Then there’s Ezekiel Contreras. He’s the boy next door who could have any girl he wants, and yet he hangs with me and Frankie. We always mess with him and call him E.Z. He’s a tall guy who you’d think would play basketball, but nope, he likes sitting at the computer writing his stories. He has chocolate-colored eyes with the longest lashes that any girl would want. And his lips? Full, the kind you want to press yours to and keep them there for an eternity.
I have to be real with myself. E.Z. and Frankie both know I’m what some would call undecided. They like to tease me a lot about that, that they know the true me. Undecided isn’t in my vocabulary. I know what I want. I want both. What they don’t know is that I want my first kiss to be with the both of them. I mean, technically the first one who kisses me is the first kiss, but when I say first kiss, it’s my first girl kiss and my first boy kiss.
“Emmie!” I hear my mother yell from downstairs.
“Yes, ma’am?” I say this quickly because I know if I don’t answer, she’ll get mad. Mom is a stickler for her children to be considered polite. It’s how I grew up, and it’s how I know I’d want my children to be, even though at times it kinda drives me nuts. I also know if I don’t answer right away, or she doesn’t hear me, she’ll yell out my entire name.
“Emerald Mae Platt!”
I sigh. She didn’t hear me. I jump off the bed, head out of my room, and down the stairs, taking two at a time until I’m standing in front of my mother, who’s sitting on the couch.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Why didn’t you answer the first time?”
I admire and respect my mother, but she’s a fusser. She’s on the couch with one of her favorite love stories, as she calls them. Her jet-black hair is still thick and only a little gray. She has a full figure but knows how to work the curves. Yep, my momma is a hottie. The thing about Mom is that we’re more friends at times than mother and daughter. I guess it’s because she had me so young, and she didn’t know how to be a mother.
“Sorry, Momma. I did answer. I guess you didn’t hear me.”
“Girl, at sixteen I would think you’d have supersonic hearing.” She giggled.
I laugh with her and flounce down on the couch next to her. She isn’t mad at me. She never truly is. Sometimes I want a mom more than a friend.
“So what are your plans for tonight? I know you have something you want to do with those two friends of yours.”
“Frankie and Ezekiel and I are supposed to head to the mall and watch a movie.”
“Sounds like fun. Anything in particular you three are going to see?”
This is where my mom is trying to be a mom. I grin.
“We want to go see The Hobbit.”
My mother makes a grunting sound and looks at me like I’m crazy.
“Isn’t it opening night?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is, but we like it like that. We like crazy.”
“Well, I called you down here to say breakfast is ready and in the microwave. I have to work tonight, so you know the drill. You need to be home at a decent time.”
“I know, Momma, I should be back at midnight and not a minute or two after.”
“Right, that’s my girl. Now go eat because I know your cell will be ringing like crazy in a few.”
I stand up, kiss my mom’s forehead, and go into the kitchen to grab my food. Opening up the small microwave, I grin as she’s made scrambled eggs and the maple sausage I love. My mother works hard. She actually is the reason I think I’m like I am. I mean, I’d had to grow up fast with her. I wasn’t the usual teen for the most part. I wasn’t even one of those kids mad at their dad for leaving. I figured he’d done the only thing he could do. My mom doesn’t talk about him much, and I don’t care. She’s done the best she can.
I settle down to eat and no sooner than my butt hits the seat, my cell rings.
“What did I tell you?” I hear my mom yell from the living room. She knows my friends. We’ve been inseparable since the moment we all met. I pick up the cell, and I grin.
“Hey, E.Z.”
“Hey, chica, are we still meeting today at the mall?”
“Yep, there is no way we’re gonna miss this movie.”
“So the plan is, I’ll meet you two at the mall in a little bit?”
“That’s the plan. Frankie will be here at any moment, knowing her. So, soon as you’re off work head to the mall.”
I hang up the phone and get back to breakfast. Frankie would be over any minute, knowing her. She hates to be late to anything. No sooner than I finish my food, there is a knock at the front door.
“Emmie!” Mom yells out. “It’s the door, and I know it’s for you! No one else would be here at this unearthly early hour but one of your friends.”
Chuckling, I put my plate and fork into the sink and head for the door. Opening it wide, I grin at Frankie.
“Come on in, girl.”
Frankie pulls me into the best hug ever, and I breathe her in. She’s like lavender and silk, and I want more. But I’m good, and I pull back as she does.
“Close the door, you’re letting all my flies out,” Mom says, and I roll my eyes. Such an old saying. She says it’s from my grandmother.
Closing the door behind Frankie, I take her hand and pull her into the living room so that she can speak to my mom, and then we can run upstairs to my room. It would never do to come into the house and not speak to my mom first.
Frankie pulls away and goes to my mom, giving her a hug as she bends over the couch.
“Hi, Mrs. Platt.”
“How many times do I have to correct you, Francesca?” Mom scolds. “No more Mrs.; it’s Ms.”
“Oh yeah, that’s right, sorry…. Mrs., I mean, Ms. Platt.”
I grab Frankie’s hand, and we run giggling up the stairs and finally into my room with a slam of the door. Once again, we hear my mother yelling something about not slamming doors in her house. We fall on the bed laughing.
I turn my head to look at Frankie. She’s beautiful. I want those laughing lips on mine. But how do you ask a friend you’ve known forever if she’ll let you kiss her? It isn’t an easy thing. Her eyes are sparkling with mirth and her lips so invitingly juicy and full. I close my eyes, and I dream about us moving together and our lips meeting in unison.
“What’s the sigh for, and why are your eyes closed?” Frankie says.
It is then that I realize Frankie has noticed I closed my eyes. I meet her gaze, and all I can do is stare for a moment. Her lip quivers, and it’s almost as if she wants to kiss me too. I think I am getting too far ahead of myself. The air seems thick, and finally she breaks the silence.
“Em?”
“I’m sorry, Frankie. I was daydreaming.”
“About?”
“Just things…. I’ll tell you later.”
“Ugh! Later?”
I laugh again. “Mhmm, later.”
“You’re wrong for that, Em.” Frankie huffs at me, then turns her head away. She’s looking up at my ceiling. I have stars and planets hanging from it. I like to think reaching for the stars is possible, so having them dangling like that makes me feel as if I can reach my goals.
“So you know what we gotta do, Em.”
I grin. I know what she’s going to say before she says it. “What’s that, Frankie?”
“We gotta wish upon a star. Make all our dreams come true.”
I wonder if she knows what I want to do with her, what I want to wish for. Would she even think that?
“Okay, so close your eyes, silly, and make your wish.”
I close my eyes and almost jump with surprise as Frankie grabs my hand. I turn my head slowly to look at her, and she has her head flat on the bed, and those beautiful green eyes are sealed shut, with those dark lashes brushing the tops of her cheeks.
She squeezes my hand. “Come on, I can feel you staring at me. Make your wish.”
I turn away and focus on anything but how good she feels lying next to me or thinking about her lips pressed to mine. The last thought isn’t going away; that’s because my wish is going to be a wish that our lips meet.
My most fondest wish is to kiss Frankie and E.Z.
II.
FRANKIE AND I hop off the bus at the mall and go to the spot we always wait for E.Z. at if we get there before he does. We’re a few minutes early and excited about seeing the movie right along with having fun with him.
“Hey there, sexies.”
I chuckle and turn to look over my shoulder at Ezekiel, who has just walked up to us at the bench parked outside of Forever 21. Frankie snickers in response as E.Z. slaps us both on the back. His touch sends tingles down my spine, and I cover it by acting as if I’m searching for something in my purse. I’m sure he’s relieved we haven’t gone inside the store as we do sometimes. He always knows to check for us inside if we aren’t sitting on the bench or standing somewhere outside.
“Wow, you two aren’t inside the store.”
“Good thing for you ’cause I saw a T-shirt in there I was going to ask you to buy for me,” I say to him with a small smirk on my lips.
“Naw, I think it’s too bad for you that you weren’t in there. ’Cause you know I would have bought it for you.” He winks at me.
I laugh softly. It’s true. If either Frankie or I ask for something from him, he’ll usually buy it. That’s just how he is with us. He is such a sweet guy. Someone would be lucky to have him as their boyfriend.
Today he is wearing a pair of black jeans and a black T-shirt. He’s already changed out of the fast-food uniform he wears. It’s what he usually does, changing at work before meeting us, stating he’d rather wear his regular clothes instead of advertising extra for his job.
“Well, you know we have time to still go in there, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”
Frankie laughs. “You’re getting away with a lot. I saw the T-shirt she wanted, and it wasn’t cheap.”
“We’ll get it now.” He grabs both our hands and pulls us into the store, and we both snicker and trail after him as he leads us to the junior clothing. One thing I love about E.Z. is, because he has three sisters, he’s really comfortable when it comes to shopping for anything girl. He has young sisters, but he says Frankie and I are practice for what he’ll do for his sisters at a later date.
