Is He Or Isn't He? (3 page)

“Don't even suggest that! We're only allowed one homecoming queen. Can you imagine what would happen if one of them lost?”

“We'd have one pissed-off runner-up,” Paige said.

“You think? Anyway, let's forget about Bianca and Rachel,” Anthony said, raising his daiquiri glass. “How about a toast?”

Paige clinked her daiquiri glass against Anthony's. “To us! And the best year ever!”

“That includes finding ourselves boyfriends,” Anthony added.

“But if we don't, then we're each other's date for the Senior Prom, right?”

“Right!”

Just then the doorbell rang and Anthony's eyes lit up. He took a sip of his daiquiri and then grabbed Paige by the hand, dragging her with him to the front door.

“Let's get this party started!” he exclaimed.

A
nthony DeMarco loved throwing a party.

There was something creative about the whole process. Putting together a guest list, coming up with a theme, ordering the food, deciding what you were going to wear, then watching as your guests arrived and seeing how they interacted with each other.

It was kind of like directing a movie. In your mind, you saw how the movie needed to be set up before being filmed. From the sets to the costumes to the actors. All the elements were pulled together and put into place. And then action!

Anthony
loved
movies. What he wanted more than anything else was to work in the movie business after college.

Like the best movies, the best parties always had some sort of drama. Either a couple had just broken up and they were seeing each other for the first time or someone's
ex-boyfriend showed up with a new girlfriend and the ex-girlfriend pretended she didn't care but she really did and either tried to make her ex-boyfriend jealous with another guy or started a catfight with the new girlfriend.

Tonight's party was a little low-key. Everyone was reconnecting from being away for the summer. Most of the girls were showing off their summer tans in outfits that left little to the imagination. Lots of short shorts, miniskirts, halter tops and cropped T-shirts that bared midriffs and exposed toned tummy muscles.

The guys were exposing just as much skin as the girls. There were skimpy tank tops and tight T-shirts to display buff summer chests.

Confidence was in the air. Everyone knew they looked good and they were all checking everyone else out. Looking to see who was free and available. There were lots of smiles, winks, and waves over sipped drinks.

Anthony wished he could join in the games, but as usual, there was no one for him.

He smothered a sigh. It wasn't easy being a gay seventeen-year-old when most of your male classmates were straight with a capital S. Anthony's close friends knew he was gay, but it wasn't something he advertised to the world. And that world, for another year, was Peppington Prep. The last thing he wanted was one of his jock classmates to think he was looking too closely at him.

Sure, he'd met gay guys in the past. Hello! His parents worked in fashion and some of the most famous designers in the world were gay. The gay guys he'd met over the years at his parents' office were handsome and cool and he wanted to
be just like them. But older guys were off limits because of the whole age difference. Either they saw him as the boss's kid or—and this
really
irked him because he was already cast in the part, thank you very much—a little brother.

Anthony knew there was a whole gay world out there—a world where there were guys just like him—but it wasn't within reach. At least not yet. Not until he was a few years older.

Anthony knew he only had to wait another year. Once he was in college, things would be different. He'd be in a world where being gay wasn't a big deal. But he was getting tired of waiting.

He wanted a boyfriend
now
.

How could he have been so stupid?! He'd had a boyfriend until he'd let his jealousy get in the way. Maybe he shouldn't have been so quick to jump to conclusions. Maybe Ian had only been looking. Maybe he wasn't going to cheat on him. Maybe…

No! No, no, no, no, no! He wasn't going to think about Ian. It still hurt too much. And he wasn't going to start beating up on himself or doubting his decision. This wasn't some Lifetime movie. He didn't need a guy—well, at least not a guy who was a two-timing louse. Ian was old news. Over. Done with. It was time to move on. To think about the future and the Mr. Right who was waiting for him.

If only he could find him!

Paige grabbed Anthony's arm and gave it a squeeze, shaking him from his thoughts. “Hey! Great party!”

“You think?”

Paige nodded, sipping from a glass of punch. “Everyone's having a blast.”

“Anthony!”

Anthony turned around to see Colleen O'Brian headed his way. She was carrying a plate filled with two cheeseburgers, ribs and a baked potato loaded with butter and sour cream. Unlike the other girls, Colleen ate what she wanted when she wanted. No carrot sticks and celery for her. She wasn't a slave to her scale and it was the reason why she was one of Manhattan's top plus-sized teen models.

Colleen had curves. Lots of curves. She also had a
great
chest. Anthony might be gay, but he knew what the straight boys liked and Colleen had dressed for battle tonight, showing off her cleavage in a hot orange bikini top that matched the sarong around her waist. She also had a great head of hair. It was shoulder length, in a gorgeous shade of red, shot with strands of gold and toffee. Tonight she was wearing her hair pushed back with a wide white headband with orange polka dots.

“Kiss, kiss,” she said, brushing cheeks with Anthony and sitting down at a patio table. “So Paige filled me in about Ian.”

Anthony glared at Paige. “Oh she did, did she?”

Colleen nodded, biting into a cheeseburger. “What a rat.”

“She asked where he was,” Paige explained. “What was I supposed to do? Lie?”

“Yes.”

“You guys broke up,” Colleen said. “Big deal. It's nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I'm not embarrassed. It still hurts, okay? And talking about it brings back all the unpleasant memories. Change of topic, please.”

“Okay.” Colleen finished off her first cheeseburger and
started on the second. “Did I tell you I'm taking singing and dancing lessons?”

“You are? How come?”

“I'm getting tired of modeling. I've been doing it for two years. I'd like to maybe try some acting.”

“Tell him the truth,” Paige urged, sitting down next to Colleen and swiping one of her ribs. “Tell him, tell him, tell him!”

Colleen swatted at Paige's hand. “Hey! Go get your own.”

Paige ignored Colleen and began nibbling on the rib. “Tell him or else I will.”

“Tell me what?” Anthony asked.

“Colleen wants to audition for
Hairspray
next year when the actress who's playing Tracy Turnblad leaves the show.”

“Don't you think I'd be perfect for the part?” Colleen asked, her emerald-green eyes lighting up.

“Absolutely,” Anthony said and meaning it. “Everyone loved you last spring at the Talent Show when you sang that song from
Dreamgirls
.”

“What was it again?” Paige asked.

“‘And I Am Telling You I'm Not Going,'” Colleen said.

“Did you know they're making it into a movie?” Anthony asked.

“No!!!!” Colleen squealed excitedly. “That's fabulous. Another plus-sized girl on the big screen. Effie is a role I'd kill for.”

“You better keep your career plans to yourself,” Anthony advised, “or a certain set of twins will suddenly decide to start overeating.”

“Huh?”

“Shhhh.” Anthony put a finger to his lips as Bianca and Rachel Torres joined the table.

As usual, the twins looked gorgeous. Like they had just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine. Of course, Anthony knew they'd had a little help from their stylist. And makeup artist. And hairdresser.

Even though the twins had identical features—from their wavy jet-black hair, brown eyes and light brown skin—they differentiated themselves by the clothes they wore. Bianca usually went for a sexier look, showing off a lot of skin, while Rachel showed less.

Tonight Bianca was wearing frayed denim shorts that barely reached the top of her legs, high-heeled sandals and a T-shirt that said:
TELL YOUR BOYFRIEND TO STOP CALLING ME
! She'd also given herself big hair, teasing out her waves. Anthony thought she looked deliciously trashy. Rachel, on the other hand, had gone for a more subdued look. She was wearing a white tennis skirt and sleeveless red blouse with her hair in a French braid.

Anthony had been friends with the twins since kindergarten. One day he'd forgotten his lunch on the school bus and when it was lunchtime, no one would share with him. Except the twins. Bianca had offered him half of her tuna fish sandwich while Rachel had shared her potato chips and given him sips of milk from her Thermos. From that day on, Anthony had sworn his allegiance to the twins. Yes, they were airheads and they drove him batty with their schemes to become famous, and sometimes they were a little selfish and self-centered, but deep down, they had hearts of gold, and that meant something to Anthony.

He'd never forget the time in the sixth grade when a representative from Toys for Tots had visited Peppington Prep, explaining about the program and how it provided Christmas gifts for underprivileged children. After they'd selected names from the Christmas tree provided, Bianca and Rachel had asked what happened to the names that weren't picked. When they were told that sometimes not all the children received a Christmas gift, the twins had been horrified and had instantly taken all the names off the tree.

To this day, every December, the twins still gave an abundance of gifts to Toys for Tots.

“You'll never guess where we were today!” Bianca exclaimed. “You'll never ever guess!”

“We were at MTV!” Rachel screamed before anyone could answer. “Auditioning for their new reality show, ‘Working Girl.'”

“‘Working Girl?'” Anthony asked. “What's that?”

“It's this show where rich girls are going to be put in
horrible
situations,” Bianca said. “Like working as a waitress in a diner or washing clothes in a laundromat.”

“Not only that, but we're going to have to
live
like working girls,” Rachel said. “You know, with their
families
in
tiny
apartments where there's only one bathroom.”

“And probably no running hot water!” Bianca chimed in.

“Or elevators. We'll have to take the
stairs
to reach our apartment.”

“And we won't be able to bring any of our own clothes. We're going to have to wear outfits that are
mass-produced
.” Bianca shuddered. “Can you
imagine
?”

“How ever will you survive?” Colleen commented while
licking barbecue sauce off her fingers.

“What happens to the working girls?” Anthony asked. “Do they get to live your lives while you're living theirs?”

Bianca shook her head. “Oh, no. Can you imagine? It would be too much of a shock. All that luxury. I think they get sent to a spa or something.”

“Maybe a trip to Disney World,” Rachel said. “Or wherever they film those
Girls Gone Wild
videos.”

“Ooooh! An opportunity for them to get some extra work!” Colleen exclaimed.

“They don't pay the girls in those videos,” Bianca said. “Duh!”

Colleen gave Bianca a sly smile. “But it's
great
exposure. Some of those girls have even gone on to be stars.”

“I think you're wrong, Colleen,” Anthony said, knowing what his friend was up to and giving her a
shut up
look. If Bianca and Rachel thought they could be stars by doing a
Girls Gone Wild
video, they'd be on the next plane to Cancun.

“You're definitely going to be on the show?” Paige asked.

“We met with the producers today and they
really
liked us,” Bianca said.

“Especially when we told them we'd never done a hard day's work in our
entire
lives,” Rachel added.

“They got really excited when we told them we had maids and personal assistants who do everything for us.”

“I'm going to go get some more ribs,” Colleen said, leaving the table.

Anthony decided to follow after Colleen and fix a plate for himself but stopped in his tracks when he saw who was on the opposite side of his penthouse deck.

“What's wrong?” Paige asked, noticing the pissed expression on his face.

“Who invited
him
?”

Anthony glared at his uninvited guest. It was Felix Fennimore.

“Didn't you?” Paige asked.

Anthony gave Paige a
get real
look. “When have I
ever
invited Felix to one of my parties?”

“Never,” Paige said. “I still don't understand what the problem is between the two of you.”

The problem went all the way back to first grade when Anthony ran against Felix for class president and won. Felix, sore loser that he was, spread a rumor that Anthony ate his snot. Not to be outdone, Anthony started his own rumor. Only it was a rumor that was true.

That Felix played with Barbie dolls.

The part of the rumor that Anthony left out, though, was that when he and Felix had play dates, they
both
used to play with Felix's older sister's Barbies.

From that point on, Anthony and Felix had been rivals, always competing against each other. For grades. For friends. For awards. They
pretended
to like each other, but really didn't.

And then there was the gay factor.

Felix was also gay.

Anthony had discovered that fact in eighth grade when he was down in Chelsea one Saturday and spotted Felix buying a copy of
Out
. Deciding that maybe it was time to mend fences, Anthony walked over to Felix and told him he had just finished reading the same issue.

“Am I supposed to be impressed or something?” Felix had asked coldly, slipping the magazine into his Louis Vuitton backpack. (Years later, Anthony would come to realize that Felix was a label queen. Everything he owned or wore had to have a designer label on it.) “Is this supposed to
bond
us? Sorry, I'm not the bonding type.”

With those final words, Felix had walked away, leaving Anthony alone on the corner.