Husky (17 page)

For most of the walk up to Sophie's, Mom and I talk. Easy. It's crazy how I can forget how easy it is to talk to her. How much she understands without my even saying it, or how right she is about all sorts of stuff. I also forget that sometimes we make the same faces. It makes us both laugh when we catch the other one doing it.

I tell her about the seagull and the ride out to Coney Island with Nanny. And she laughs, sort of surprised that Nanny took me all the way out there, and more surprised that she and Jock used to go there to make up. She didn't even know that. But she's happy about it. It's at times like this, when I think Mom and I are just friends, like Ellen and me, that I could and would tell her anything and she would laugh or feel the same way about it that I do. She
usually does. Almost always. But then sometimes she creeps back to being a mom.

“Are you nervous for school tomorrow?” she asks.

This is a Mom question. A good one, but a Mom one. I think it's a Mom question because it's about school, which is the most boring subject ever. It's just like a job and one that you didn't even want but have to go to every day. I think she's asking about classes and homework and getting good grades, which no one ever really thinks about or worries about. At least I don't. The stuff I worry about isn't history or English, it's what happened to my friends and what will my adjective be. Mom won't know about that, and it's even too hard to explain.

Mom says, “These are the tough years. I remember. It's all about who's with who and what to wear. Oh, I just hated every minute of it.”

“Yeah?” I answer back.

“Sure. And maybe it's all part of what you have to get through, but it's a tough part.” Mom laughs at how tough. “But the thing to remember is, you decide on the time you want to have. You can worry and gossip and play into all
that stuff, or you can just be your own person.”

“Is that what you did?” I ask.

“Oh, no. I was a cheerleader and I hated every minute of it,” Mom says, laughing out loud. “I thought I had to be one, because they were the pretty and popular girls, but I just wanted to stay home and make pies. Which is just what I'm doing now. So I guess it all works out.”

“I guess.” I smile back. She's so close, I want to tell her all about Allegra and Sophie and the boys with their armpits and Ellen and the adjectives. It sounds like she knows it, but maybe she just needs the update. She could tell me exactly what to do. But we're already on our block, and coming up to our house. I stop.

“Should we grab Nanny?” I ask.

But Mom keeps walking and says over her shoulder, “Let's let her have the night. C'mon, it's Sophie's birthday.”

Mom walks right in the front door of Sophie's house without knocking, and I hear the happy screams of Sophie's mom as soon as they see each other. It's this huge
excitement that makes me want to be a part of it all right away. Even though I know what's in there. I hurry in right behind her.

Sophie's mom rushes at me, right after Mom, and squeezes me tight. “Now, this is how we do a birthday!” she yells, squeezing me to her chest so tightly I can feel the words against my face. “Sophie, they're here!”

Sophie's mom lets me go so I can see Sophie running down the stairs to see me. And she smiles. The big smile Sophie and I always give each other when we've missed each other. When it's been too long or we've had a fight for a stupid reason and all we want is each other. That's the smile. And it's right at me. She doesn't look made over. She looks the same and that makes me really happy.

I'm so happy about the smile, I don't even look at Allegra, who says hi as she runs down the stairs behind Sophie.

“Where's Ellen?” I ask as Sophie hugs me hard.

“She's in my room. She said she'd be ‘down soon.'” Sophie laughs.

“Hi, Allegra,” I say, smiling at her.

“Hey. Glad you're here, this is going to be the Best Evah.” Allegra smirks.

“Good,” I say.

Sophie grabs my hand to take me to the kitchen following after our moms preparing to light the cake, but Allegra stops her and grabs my hand instead. Both of us stop, because no one in the world knows what is happening right now. Especially not me.

“Can I, like, talk to you for a minute?” Allegra asks.

“Me?” I sort of squeak, pointing to myself, just to make sure that she is actually talking to me, Davis, Ducks, the boy she didn't invite to the makeover. And yes, she is. Sophie stops too. None of us really know what to do.

“Well, hurry up, I guess. I want to cut the cake,” Sophie says as she walks into the kitchen with the rest. Leaving me alone with Allegra.

Me. And. Allegra.

So now what?

“Listen, I just wanted to say to you that what Ryan and Brian called you the other day was totally not okay. Like, absolutely not, and I told them that and they said
they were, like, crazy sorry,” Allegra says, looking right at me. In the eyes. I think this is the first time I have ever even seen her whole face.

“It's okay. Seriously, it's fine,” I say, trying to get away.

“No, it's, like, absolutely not. They can't use that word. And not toward you.”

“
Fag
?” I shrug. Why is she making such a big deal about this, when I'm clearly giving her
It'sfineleaveitalone
face? She probably doesn't get it because we've never looked at each other for so long.

“Ugh, it's the worst. My uncle is gay and I love him so I don't like that word,” Allegra says, getting really angry. “I just want you to know that that word will never bother you again. And if you, like, need to talk, or whatever, I'm here. My uncle says it's, like, a tough time and, like, teen suicide and whatever, but, like, you're great just the way you are. Okay?”

Allegra stops. Just stops and stares at me, waiting for me to say something so she can mouth along and already know the answer. But I can't because I think I just got
my adjective and it's not
Husky
or even
F
at
, it's
Gay
. And I have nothing to say. I'm shocked. She's decided. Right there in front of me, and anything I say will just back the point. I'm stuck, and now I'm gay on top of it.

This is the worst. The Worst Evah.

I start to say, “Hold on a minute . . .” But as I start, Ellen stomps down the steps with Charlie right behind her. She looks at Allegra's hand on my shoulder and her eyes get really big. She's almost as shocked as me and she hasn't even heard what Allegra just said. Charlie just smiles.

“Cake?” says Ellen, and moves right through the middle of us to the kitchen. Charlie dips his big neck down and follows her, and so do I. What else am I supposed to do?

In the kitchen, we all huddle around the island as Mom lights the candles. Sophie still gets so excited about this stuff. It's funny. I have been to every one of her birthdays and she's always the same. That never changes. And Ellen makes a big gnashing face at the cake, like she does every
year. And Allegra gets on her phone to take a picture, which is new, but I guess a nice thing. And Charlie smiles at me and puts his hand on my shoulder to lean in and get a look at the cake. And we all sing “Happy Birthday” to Sophie and mean it, each of us. You can really hear that in the music we're making together. It's small, but it's there.

But just before she blows out the candles, Sophie says, “Now everybody make a wish. Close your eyes and do it.”

I wait a minute, just to look at all these people standing around with their eyes closed, wishing for something amazing and fun or lovely to happen and how I hope each of them gets it.

It all reminds me of
La Boheme
, another opera, which is crazy to think about now. But it does. When the two lovers meet, it's by candlelight just like this, so that makes sense. And they sing the most beautiful duet in the whole opera. So beautiful, it overpowers all their friends shouting outside for them to hurry up and come down and start all the rest of the misery and stuff that happens in the opera. It's an opera, so there's a lot of that. But they don't
pay any attention. For that moment, it's only the two of them, and they're lost in the music. Like I get lost in the music. And I wish, right now, I had all that bigness to get rid of all the rest of the world outside of here.

But, really, I don't need it. Because I'm part of this. I am part of here.

And here is filled with Sophie, smiling in the yellow light from the candles on her cake that my mom made. She's nudging Ellen to get her excited to help blow out the candles. Ellen smiles back because that is her thing now, or showing off her new perfect teeth is her thing now, but either way is good. Allegra is standing really close and sort of quietly next to Sophie, trying to fit in to this loud, crazy bunch of people she's never really even met before. I almost feel sorry for her. But only sort of. Mom squeezes my shoulders and looks down at me, wanting me to smile bigger and brighter than anyone else in the room. So for her, I do. Because I owe her. But also because, why not? I'm here, and here with all these people is pretty good.

Sophie's mom claps to get us all to be quiet so Sophie and the rest of us can concentrate on our wishes. Sophie
closes her eyes and I do the same, trying to make a wish of my own. I ask:

Let me have more of this. Let me get lost in more moments like this, where I don't have to worry about adjectives or makeovers or cell phones or armpits or whatever. Where all there is is music, or just the music of us all laughing together, and all I have to do is be a part of it. That's all I ever really wanted. And let me figure out what adjective I am for myself, because Allegra can't be trusted to come up with one. I mean, what was that? I don't know what I am, but between
Husky
and
Gay
, there has to be another option.

And one more. Please don't let school be too terrible. Because I start tomorrow and I don't know what to expect. Thanks. The rest Sophie can have.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Justin Sayre is an accomplished writer for stage and screen, performing regularly in New York City and Los Angeles. He has recently written for
2 Broke Girls
and appeared in Lisa Kudrow's
The Comeback
. He was described by Michael Musto in the
Village Voice
as “Oscar Wilde meets Whoopi Goldberg.” He is also a regular contributor to
Huffington Post
and
Flavorwire
. This is his first novel.

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