After School Activities (11 page)

forever.”

“Yeah, I figured. I just had no idea there was a demand.”

“Well, you are the only gay guy at school.” She gave me a knowing,

sidelong look. “At least, the only one who has come out.”

That was exactly the kind of thing I did
not
want to be talking about right now. So I changed the subject back to this whole “GBFF” thing.

“Well, they’ll probably just end up being disappointed. Don’t know how

well I’ll meet their expectations. I guess I could talk about boys with the

best of them, but I doubt I’ll do that well in the fashion department.”

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“I don’t know. You gave some pretty good advice back there.

You’ve got good instincts.”

“Oh goodie,” I said sarcastically. “I guess I really am gay, after all.”

Charlotte laughed. “Gays and girls. We’re only as good as the

clothes we wear. Sure feels that way sometimes, doesn’t it?”

“Not to mention all the pressure to act a certain way.”

“Yeah, but that’s everybody, just with different expectations,

different standards of normal. Hey, you have English next, right? With

James?”

I was taken aback. “How did you know?”

“Oh, James talks about you all the time. Says you’re the funniest kid

he’s met, and definitely one of the smartest.”

Wow. I had no idea James P. Hogan ever even thought about me,

much less talked about me. If it were any other day, I think I might have

swooned.

“Anyway,” Charlotte continued. “Why don’t I walk with you to

class? I have math right down the hall.”

This was practically a godsend. Walking with Charlotte was the

perfect excuse I needed to avoid running into Mel in the halls. As probably

the most popular girl in school, she was almost guaranteed a posse of

followers I could utilize to hide from the best friends I didn’t quite know

how to face today.

I didn’t run into Adam that day until lunch. I once again sought

refuge with the cheerleaders. Tiffany, in particular, seemed delighted to

have me there, absolutely positive that I had some kind of magic

gayness I could impart to her. I didn’t mind too much. Besides, the

cheerleader table was right next to the jock table. I knew Adam would

show up eventually. I’d just have to wait.

But when he walked up, saw me there sitting with the cheerleaders, I

realized I had no idea what to say. All I could manage was a lame “Hey,

Adam.” He only looked at me for a moment before he sat down,

deliberately turning his back on me.

I stared at his back. I had to say something, to apologize, explain

what had happened, something. But seriously, what could I say, with

everybody there to overhear? God, all this secrecy I’d suddenly found

myself saddled with was killing me. I needed my space from Kai, I

couldn’t talk to Mel, Adam wouldn’t talk to me…. It was all infuriating.

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“OMG,” Tiffany whispered in my ear, though she was loud enough

to be heard by half the lunchroom. “Isn’t Adam the hottest guy in school?”

It was odd. James P. Hogan was sitting right there, right next to

Adam, and yet I found myself agreeing with Tiffany. “Yeah,” I said.

“The hottest.” I saw Adam’s back stiffen. He’d obviously heard me, but

he didn’t turn around, didn’t say anything.

After lunch, I tried to catch up to Adam, hoping to get a chance to

talk to him alone, if only for a minute. But he ignored me calling his name.

When I finally got close enough to him, Will, his very homophobic friend,

turned to confront me.

“What the fuck do you want, fag boy?”

I looked to Adam for support. He only stared back at me with dead

eyes, turned, and walked away.

“Fuck off, Will,” I said, trying to get past him to catch up with

Adam. But Will sidestepped, blocking my path.

“You gonna do something about it, fairy?”

I’d never really contemplated punching anyone before. At least not

seriously. I’d always been shorter and thinner than most boys, and my

instincts toward self-preservation tended to ward off the thoughts of

violence. But in that instant, I came within a millimeter of punching Will

right in the face.

“That’s what I thought,” Will muttered smugly and walked off,

leaving me standing there, wishing I had punched him. At least it would

have wiped that smug look off his face.

OVER A week of that went by. I didn’t go to drama club at all, for fear of

facing Mel’s questions, though I did send her a “sorry, Kai and I are

fighting” text. She never responded. Well, I guess that’s another relationship I’ll have to repair eventually. I’ll add it to the list.

I kept sitting with Charlotte and Tiffany and the rest of the

cheerleaders during biology and lunch. Actually, that was the best part of

this whole experience. I found myself indulging more and more of my

feminine side, what with the constant talk of fashion, the liberal use of the words “bitch” and “gurrrrl,” the delight in the daily drama of high school

life, slumber parties with makeovers, and boy talk. It was strangely

liberating. I consider myself to be a pretty masculine guy. I try not to cry, 62

After School Activities

get strangely defensive about lifting heavy things, pretend I’m not feeling

half the emotions I really am, say things like “dude” and “bro,” watch tons

of action movies, all that fun stuff. But hanging out with these girliest of

girls drew out parts of me I’d never explored, hadn’t really even known

were there. It was the one bright spot, if for no other reason than it

introduced me to the wonderful world that is chick flicks.

Kai and I still hadn’t spoken, which I thought was for the best. I

wanted to be able to look at him without the sight of his cock being the

first thing to leap into my mind. Sometimes I worried that it wasn’t him I

missed, but rather the sex. For a few weeks there, we didn’t really do

anything outside of that. School was awkward, we barely talked, we were

just naked all the time. I hoped that wasn’t the case. So in order to be

certain, I was going to have to wait until I could look at him without my

stomach twisting into knots and my mouth running dry.

Adam got really good at avoiding me. After the first few days of

trying to talk to him, only to get the cold shoulder, I guess he must have

started taking roundabout ways to class, ’cause I never saw him in the

halls. Except for once on Thursday, when he promptly turned right around

and went back the way he’d come before getting within forty feet of me. I

don’t know what he did for lunch, ’cause I stopped seeing him in the

lunchroom. I know some kids ate in the orchestra room or the band room,

but Adam didn’t play an instrument. Maybe the jocks did something

similar with the locker room or the gym. I thought about asking James P.

Hogan—for whatever reason, I no longer got quite so tongue-tied around

him—but I figured it would seem too weird. Wherever Adam was, I could

never find him. I was beginning to doubt I’d ever get him to even talk to

me, much less forgive me. What I needed was to somehow get him alone,

for only five minutes. I felt confident that, when he was not surrounded by

hundreds of our peers, he might actually give me a chance to explain

myself. Finally, the next Friday, I got my chance.

I had forgotten my textbook in Spanish class, so I headed over to the

language hallway to pick it up during lunch. The hallway was empty; kids

were either at lunch or in classes. When I left the Spanish classroom, I saw

Adam walking down the hall, just a few feet away. He hadn’t noticed me

step out the door. This was the perfect opportunity to talk to him; no one

was around and I was practically close enough to touch him. I ran to catch

up.

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Dirk Hunter

“Adam, wait,” I said, grabbing his arm. “Please, can we talk?”

“What the fuck could you possibly want to say,” he replied through

clenched teeth. “Leave me alone and go back to your stupid boyfriend.”

Okay, so, not the best start, but at least he was talking to me. “It’s

not what you think. Kai is straight.”

Adam’s face twisted with anger. “Is that supposed to make me feel

better?” he demanded, shoving me up against the locker, fists bunched up

in my shirt. Unshed tears were gathering in his eyes. “Is it? You can’t land

the Jewish faggot of your dreams so you’ll settle for me?”

The pressure Adam was exerting on my chest was kind of painful,

but I didn’t care. I was just happy he was actually talking to me again, and

it felt good to have him touching me, even like this. Besides, I kinda think

maybe I deserved it. I grabbed his wrists so he wouldn’t let go.

“No, it’s not like that. I swear.”

“Oh yeah? Well, what is it like?”

Well, here we go.
I thought. I still had no idea how to explain myself, but I finally had him listening so I’d better dive right in. But before I could even begin, an all too familiar voice broke in.

“Now, now, boys. I’m getting pretty tired of finding you two like

this.” Mr. Cortez stood there, arms folded, looking stern.

Adam immediately let go of me and pulled his arms out of my grip

with barely any effort. He took off down the hall, and with him went all

my hopes of reconciliation. Every last scrap of self-control I had snapped.

All the frustration and anger that had been slowly building for over a week

burst forth.

“God
damn
it, you fucking
idiot
! Do you have any idea what you just did? That was the first time I have gotten him to talk to me in fucking

weeks
, but you just had to butt in and ‘rescue’ me, ’cause that is apparently the only thing that validates your worthless existence.”

Mr. Cortez took a step backward under the force of my anger. At that

moment I realized exactly what I’d done, and how stupid it was.

“I mean… no, fuck it, that’s exactly what I mean. Don’t worry, I’ll

just show myself to Mr. Hayes’s office.”

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After School Activities

CHAPTER TEN

DINNER THAT night was a strange affair. I had kind of figured that

after getting a phone call from the principal explaining exactly what I

had done and that I was suspended for the next week, there might be

some degree of, I don’t know, punishment perhaps? At the very least,

some scolding, maybe a withheld dessert. The kind of things parents

are supposed to do, you know? Instead, dinner was painfully,

awkwardly normal. Cheery even.

Neither of my parents made any mention of my suspension. They

only talked about work, like usual. Meanwhile, I was practically

jumping at every loud sound, expecting the fire and brimstone parents

are supposed to rain down in this situation. It only got worse the longer

it took to come.

But dinner ended and still no yelling or recrimination. I leaped to do

the dishes, hoping to lessen the punishment that obviously
had
to be coming. Only it never came. My parents turned on the TV in the living

room like it was a completely normal Friday. Finally I slunk back to my

room. I wasn’t in there for more than a minute when Dad knocked on the

door.
Here it comes
, I thought,
the yelling, scolding, grounding.
I didn’t look up when Dad opened the door. I kept my eyes firmly fixed on the

floor, looking out of the corner of my eye at Dad’s feet standing in the

doorway.

“You ready to talk about it?”

He didn’t sound angry at all. I was incredulous. “What?” I asked,

looking up. Dad was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed.

“Everything that’s been going on. Ready to talk about it yet?”

“That’s it?” I asked. Dad raised an eyebrow. “I mean, no yelling, no

punishment? I was suspended. Aren’t you mad?”

Dad shrugged.

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Dirk Hunter

“We’re a little disappointed, your mother and I. Well, more me.

Your mother finds this whole thing kind of funny, especially making

you squirm all throughout dinner.” My jaw was resting on the floor, I

was certain. Dad laughed at the look on my face. “Listen, Dylan,

you’re a good kid. We know that. We also know that you haven’t been

yourself lately. I’m going to take a wild guess and say it had

something to do with Mr. Mysterious from a few weeks ago, not to

mention the complete lack of Kai eating us out of house and home

lately and this constant moping in your room.” Wow. I was a little

stunned at how observant my parents were. Here I was thinking I had

been acting completely normal, and they could see right through me

the entire time. “So, no. I’m not mad. Besides, what would I do,

ground you to your room? You already never leave this place. Kind of

sad, really.”

I laughed. “Thanks. You really know how to cheer a guy up.”

“Glad I could help. You want to come sit with your mother and me?

There’s a Hitchcock marathon on tonight.”

“Nah, I think I’m just gonna go to bed.”

“Alright, son. Sleep tight.” He started to pull the door shut, but

paused with it open a crack. “And seriously, Dylan, if you ever need

to talk, we’re right here. We may be old, but we can probably

understand what you’re going through a little better than you think.”