“What? What are you talking about? Peter said he fell.”
“He didn’t fall,” Britney said. “Tommy pushed him.”
“Who’s Tommy?”
“A jerk from school. He made fun of Peter’s nail polish and said he was a bad word.”
“He didn’t tell his dad what happened?” Jess asked.
“No. He said he fell. What word did he get called, Britney?”
“I don’t want to say it.”
“It’s okay. I won’t tell.” He knelt down. “Just whisper in my ear.”
Britney put her mouth up to Andrew’s wig and whispered, “Fag. He said Peter is gay because of how he dresses and because he comes here.”
“I’m sorry, Ann,” Jess said. “I thought Peter would’ve said, or I would’ve made sure Patrick knew.”
“I’ll make sure he does. Thank you for telling me, Britney. You know it doesn’t mean Peter’s gay, right?”
“I know Peter’s not gay. I’m just waiting for him to ask me out.” She grabbed her mom’s hand. “Come on. I wanna get to the mall.”
“We’ll see you next week, Ann,” Jess said. “Say bye, Brit.”
“Bye Brit,” Brit said, sticking out her tongue.
“Don’t have kids,” Jess said over her shoulder as Britney pulled her towards the exit. “They’re all brats.”
Andrew laughed, but once they were out, he quickly raced to the small office that served as a green room and grabbed his phone from his purse. He called Patrick, wondering how he’d react.
Patrick picked up. “Hi,” he said, and before Andrew could talk, he continued. “Look, I’m sorry I didn’t let you know we weren’t coming, but Peter is in a mood and didn’t want to go. I meant to let you know. I swear.”
“Patrick, it’s fine. I know why he didn’t want to come.”
“Why?”
Suddenly Andrew had a vision of Patrick storming out of the house after this Tommy kid. He’d seen how angry Patrick got at the restaurant. This wasn’t the kind of news he could deliver over the phone.
“Can I come over?”
“Uh, sure? Is everything okay?”
“Yes. Let me just get out of drag and I’ll be right over.”
“We’ll be home all day. See you soon.”
§
Ninety minutes later, a de-dragged Andrew pulled up outside Patrick’s house. There was no way to soften this news; he knew Patrick would be angry. How could he not be? Part of Andrew didn’t want to stop Patrick from doing whatever he wanted to do. Maybe bullies only spoke violence. Maybe that was the only way to reach them.
(Maybe you’re still angry about Karl)
(Maybe you’re right)
Andrew rang the bell. “We’re out back!” he heard Patrick yell, and Andrew walked around the side of the house and walked through the gate.
“Wow!” he said. “You have been busy this week.” Patrick and Peter were playing a board game on the extended deck.
“Like it?”
“Very nice deck.” He heard it as soon as he said it, and the look on Patrick’s face made it clear Patrick had caught it too. Patrick’s “deck” had nothing to do with this though, Andrew reminded himself as his eyes fell on Peter’s cast. “How’s the arm, Peter?”
Peter wouldn’t make eye contact.
“Peter, Andrew asked you a question.”
Peter glared. “It’s fine. I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Do you need help?”
“No!”
After Peter left, Patrick kicked a chair out for Andrew and waved for him to sit down. “Sorry about that. He’s in a mood.”
“I know why.”
“What do you mean?”
“There’s no easy way to tell you this. You need to stay calm when I do.”
“What’s going on, Andrew?”
“I talked to Jess and Britney today at the library. They say Peter didn’t fall. He got pushed.”
“What?” Patrick jumped to his feet.
“Some kid from school. Tommy, I think.”
“What the fuck? Why wouldn’t he just tell me?”
“He’s probably embarrassed, Patrick. You’re strong and all macho and shit, and he’s not, and he knows that. That’s hard for a kid to admit.”
“I’m going to kill this Tommy kid. Who the fuck does he think he is, laying a hand on my kid?”
“Peter doesn’t need the testosterone display, Patrick. And he certainly doesn’t need a dad in jail. He needs you to tell him it’s okay and that it gets better.”
“What does this kid have against Peter? Is it because of the girly stuff?”
Andrew looked at him. Had he learned nothing? Had the last two weeks all just been a waste of time? Did Patrick still think Peter wanted to be a girl? Did he think Andrew did? Did he think all gay people did? Hell, was that attitude any better than Tommy? That’s where kids like Tommy got the idea that it was okay to beat on gay kids and to treat women like dirt.
Before Andrew could say any of that though, he followed Patrick’s suddenly wide eyes to where Peter was standing in the patio doorway, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m not a girl!” He turned around and ran back in.
“Shit!” Patrick went to go after him, but Andrew grabbed him by the arm.
“Think before you talk, Patrick. Don’t go running in there and running off at the mouth. You’ll make this worse.”
“How can it be worse? My son has a broken arm because some kid didn’t like how he dressed.”
“You didn’t like how he dressed either!”
“Don’t compare me to that kid. I’d never hit him.”
“Of course you wouldn’t. But words hurt too.”
“I painted my nails for him. What more do I need to do to show him I don’t care how he dresses? That he’s my son no matter what.”
“Maybe just say that. I mean, yes, actions speak louder and all, but words still lay things out really clear.”
Patrick slammed his fist down on the table. “This is too fucking hard, Andrew. I just want him to be-”
“Normal?”
“No. Happy.”
“Tell him that.”
Patrick went to speak, closed his mouth instead. He nodded. Andrew knew it was none of his business. He knew he should stay outside and let them have their moment. He watched Patrick walk away though, and couldn’t help but follow him into the house and upstairs to Peter’s bedroom. Peter was lying on the bed, face in the pillow, broken arm splayed out next to him. Patrick sat down on the bed.
“Peter, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Yes, you did. You’re ashamed of me.”
“No, Peter. I could never be ashamed of anything you wear, because I could never be ashamed of you. You are perfect just the way you are.”
“Then why does Tommy constantly pick on me?”
“Kids don’t understand people who look different from them. Adults don’t always understand either. Remember that guy at the restaurant? But I will always stand up for you. Just like I did then.”
“You can’t always be there though. It’s not worth it. I’ll just not look like that anymore.”
“Is that why all the changes this week? The clothes? The hair?”
“I don’t want to be a target.”
“I don’t want you to be either, Peter, but I also don’t want you to be something you’re not.” Patrick looked up and locked eyes with Andrew. “Is that why you didn’t want to go to the library today?”
“Uh huh. Tommy calls me gay all the time, and other stuff, and he said it was because Andrew is like that, and that’s what they do. They make other people gay.”
“You know that’s not true though, right?”
Andrew’s heart ached as he waited for Peter to answer. “I know.”
“And you know Andrew is a good guy, right? We’ve had some fun times with him, right?”
“I guess.”
“And you know he wouldn’t ever hurt you either, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So what’s this about then? Really?”
Peter rolled over. His eyes met Andrew’s and filled with tears again. “I’m not gay,” Peter said. “I know you are, Andrew, and I don’t care, but he keeps calling me gay, and I’m just not. And he...”
“And he what?
“He did it in front of Britney.”
“And you’re embarrassed.”
“Yeah.”
“Because she’s your friend?”
“Yeah, but...”
“But what?” Patrick asked.
“But you like her as more than a friend, don’t you?” Andrew said.
Peter nodded.
Andrew knelt down by the bed and took Peter’s hand in his. “Well, Peter, I am really sorry this happened to you, but I know for a fact that she likes you and doesn’t think any less of you for this at all.”
“She probably just thinks I’m a sissy girl.”
“Because you like to wear nice clothes, and have nice hair, and look pretty? Do you think I’m a sissy girl?”
“No.”
(Well that’s a first)
“Then why would she think that about you?”
“She saw it,” Peter said. “She saw Tommy push me. I should have fought him back, but I just lay there and cried.”
“You had a broken arm!” Patrick said. “And fighting isn’t the answer,” he added, with a quick glance at Andrew. “I know you think I think that fighting can solve problems but...”
“Because that’s what you do!”
“What? That’s not what I do. Believe me, champ. I’m not in the army because I like to fight. In fact, there’s very little fighting involved. It’s about making the world a safer place so no one has to fight.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Absolutely. You’re my son and I wouldn’t ever lie to you.”
“Ever?”
“Ever.”
“Do you wish I was more like Tommy then? Less girly?”
“Peter, I am so sorry I said that. That’s not what I meant, and it’s not how I feel, and I would never want you to be like Tommy. You’re amazing the way you are. You like people for how they are, and you make me a better man, and I love you.”
It was such an honest and heartfelt outburst, and Andrew’s heart melted. Whatever walls he had been trying to build around the feelings that were growing for the man beside him, those walls had just crashed down. And he couldn’t help it. He looked at Peter as he wrapped his broken arm gingerly around his dad’s neck, and he wondered if there was any way at all he would get out of this without needing a cast on his broken heart.
PATRICK
The rage was nearly blinding. That some piece of shit kid had bullied his son, pushed him, broken his arm, and sent him into a weeklong depressive spiral made every inch of Patrick’s body vibrate. If Andrew hadn’t been there, if he hadn’t calmed him down immediately, Patrick didn’t even know what might have happened. He wouldn’t have beat up the kid, but he sure would have pounded on the kid’s parents. Kids didn’t become assholes on their own. That was learned from asshole parents.
All these thoughts bounced around in his brain as he barbecued up some dinner. Peter had asked Andrew to stay, if only to get brought up to speed on the chapters he had missed that afternoon. Andrew happened to have the book in his car so Andrew was reading to Peter while Patrick cooked.
He was great with Peter, and that certainly didn’t help Patrick’s confusion.
“Food’s ready,” he called out.
“Thanks, Dad!” Peter yelled, and it was so great to see him happy like normal again. “Can I get a soda?”
“Sure, champ. Grab Dad a beer too? Andrew?”
“Sure.” Andrew looked at Peter’s broken arm. “Can you handle three with one arm?”
“Yup!” Peter pushed himself off the ground, where he’d been sitting at Andrew’s feet, and took off into the house.
“Thank you,” Patrick said, as he scooped up the food onto the platter, making sure Peter’s veggie burger was kept separate.
“You’re welcome, but it was all you. You did great, Patrick. I wish other kids had dads like you.”
Patrick looked away. “That means a lot.”
Peter came back out, three cans held against his body with his cast. “Careful there.” Patrick grabbed the two beers and handed one to Andrew. Was it just in Patrick’s head, or did Andrew’s fingers linger too long over Patrick’s hand?
“Let’s eat.” He gently pushed the tray to Andrew first, who grabbed a burger and a cob of corn.
“I’m getting used to all this BBQ eating,” Andrew said. “I haven’t spent this much time outdoors since I was growing up.”
“We like having you,” Patrick said. “Right, Peter?”
Peter smiled and nodded, his mouth already full. “Wanna stay after and watch some more Drag Race?”
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Patrick chastised gently, “and I’m sure Andrew has plans.” Probably with the nurse, he thought, and forced down the fiery spike of jealousy that immediately flared up.
“I can stay for a bit,” Andrew said. “I’m supposed to be meeting some friends at the club later, but I can watch an episode or two.”
Friends, Patrick thought. One friend, likely. Which was fine, he reminded himself. Andrew was a great friend and a good guy and he deserved a nice gay guy to date, not some confused and fucked-up, borderline alcoholic... wait? Who had said anything about dating? Did Patrick want to date Andrew? Of course he didn’t. It was just a random attraction, right? There was no way Patrick could ever date a man. He couldn’t even be with a man.
Then why the hell was he thinking about it so often? Like the way Andrew’s eyes sparkled while talking to Peter about who had done what on that show they liked watching. Or the way some butter ran off Andrew’s corn, down his chin, and it was all Patrick could do not to reach out and wipe it off with his thumb. Or his tongue.
His cock plumped up in his shorts, and he shifted in his chair. This couldn’t keep happening, he thought. Maybe he should be the one hitting up Swigg’s, finding himself a nice single mom on a girl’s night out, with tits that weren’t fake and detachable, and he should date her, and fuck her, and marry her.
Until it got boring again, like it had with Christy.
Is that what it had been? Had he been attracted to guys? He honestly couldn’t think of a single time. Until he had met Andrew. And then everything had changed, and everything was still changing.
“Patrick?”
He shook his head. “Sorry, I zoned out. What?”
“I’m grabbing another beer. You ready?”
He lifted his can, which was still half full. “Sure.” He chugged it back. He would quit drinking, he thought, but obviously not tonight.
§
They finished eating and relocated to the living room. Peter stretched out on the floor like he always did, and normally Patrick would stretch out across the couch. Now, Andrew was sitting on one end and Patrick found himself sitting very rigidly on the other end. He was very aware of how much space was between them.
He was also very aware of how little space there was, and as Peter pressed play on the next episode, Patrick was far more focused on how easy it would be to let himself stretch out like normal and bump into Andrew. Those kinds of thoughts should be bothering him but they weren’t. He wanted to touch Andrew. He wanted to get touched by Andrew. He wanted to kiss Andrew. He wanted to nibble on that lower lip that hung there so temptingly.
Patrick zoned out entirely as the episodes went by. He didn’t understand half of what they said anyway. Hearing Peter laugh was what mattered. Hearing the excitement in his voice again, when he’d talk to Andrew about how the contestants did in their challenges, that was what mattered.
“Another one?” Peter asked, when the episode ended.
Patrick checked the time. “Not for you, champ. It’s getting late.”
“Awww but D
ad!”
“You can watch more tomorrow,” Patrick said.
“Will you come watch with me, Andrew?”
“I probably could,” Andrew said, and Patrick felt himself grin. Andrew might be heading out for a night of clubbing with his friends (and his nurse) but he’d be back tomorrow.
“Okay, sounds good!” Peter hugged them both then bounced up the stairs.
“I’ll be up to tuck you in right away!” Patrick turned to Andrew. “Guess it’s time for you to head off too, hey?”
“I’m supposed to meet these people, yah.”
Patrick stood up. “Well, have a great night. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” His grin felt so forced.
Andrew smiled back, a genuine, playful smile. “Isn’t my whole life something you wouldn’t do though?”
Patrick shrugged. “I guess so.” Maybe not, he thought though. “Say hi to Kent, and thanks again.”
“Oh, Kent will be there, but I’m not meeting him.”
“Oh?”
“Just a girls night out. Kent’s a nice guy, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t see it going anywhere.”
“Sorry to hear that,” Patrick said, not sorry at all.
“See you tomorrow?”
“I’ll be here,” Patrick said, and started to head up to Peter’s room. He paused, and turned around. “Andrew?”
Andrew paused on his way to the door. “Yes?”
“Stay for another drink?”
Andrew looked at him, and not just the way you look at someone you’re having a conversation with. He really looked. The air suddenly seemed thick and hot, and Patrick felt his face flush. Was Andrew searching for a reason in Patrick’s face? Did he know? Did he suspect? How could he, when Patrick didn’t even understand it?
“Yah. I can have one more before I need to go,” Andrew finally said.
ANDREW
Of course he stayed.
Saturday at the Torch was always a good time, but it was the same every week. He and Aaron and Rodrigo would show up looking fabulous, scam shots off cute guys and drag hags, and gossip about everyone there. They’d dance and drink, and then Rodrigo and Aaron would go home to fuck, leaving Andrew to go home alone. Like every Saturday.
He knew nothing would happen with Patrick, and he knew it wasn’t healthy to let himself pretend, but he also figured it wouldn’t really hurt anyone other than himself. What’s more, he liked Patrick. He liked talking to Patrick. He liked getting to know Patrick.
A Fluid State Page 10
