Kickass Anthology (35 page)

Dad smiled and clapped a hand to my shoulder. All was well, that hand said. Then Dad indicated Serg with wave of his thumb. “I already told your boyfriend in no uncertain terms that he’d better treat you right, or else.”

My mouth dropped open in shock, and I glanced at Sergio, who nodded gravely.

Then Dad winked, and Serg busted up and I knew I’d been had.

Dad ambled off to grab some iced tea from the kitchen, and Serg and I sat on a sofa in the living room, while Dad plopped down in his favorite chair and told us more about his talk with Marcus Brent.

“I’ve known that man since before you were born, Evan, and your mom was best friends with his wife.” Dad sighed in disgust as he downed a large gulp of tea.

Serg reached over to take my hand. I hesitated a second, fearful of holding his hand in front of Dad. But when Dad saw me hesitate, he gave me a mock glower.

“I believe he wants to hold your hand.”

I smiled and gratefully accepted Sergio’s hand, and his grin of encouragement.

“That man, who in many way helped me raise you, Evan, actually told me that adult ‘
homosexuals
’ statistically like to prey on young boys. Is that a crock of shit, or what?”

Sergio’s grip on my hand tightened, and his whole body stiffened.

“That’s bullshit, Mr. Brooks,” he blurted. “Sorry, sir, for cussin’. But most of those sickos are straight guys.”

Dad nodded and set down his glass. He toyed with the buttons on his short-sleeved work shirt, a nervous habit I’d witnessed my whole life. “I know that, Sergio, and I’m just a contractor. You’d think that Marcus’d know better—he’s a college-educated businessman.”

I sighed heavily and sat back against the cool fabric of the sofa. I’d spent my life stretched out on this couch while Dad sat in the very chair he now occupied, as we’d watch movie after movie on DVD. Back in simpler days…

“Well, I guess that’s it,” I said, glancing at Sergio. “Looks like waiting tables in Phoenix it is.”

“Not so fast, son,” Dad said, holding up a hand. “Those BLA kids need you. And to prove it–”

He was interrupted by a knock at the front door. But none of us leapt up to answer it. In this town, most everyone knew the drill – you knocked, and if the front door was unlocked, you walked right in.

I turned and broke into a big grin at the sight of one of my favorite campers from last summer. In fact, I’d worked with him over the years in various BLA mentoring capacities, and loved this kid like a little brother.

“Yo, Blake, how goes the battle?” I exclaimed happily, leaping to my feet as the excited thirteen-year-old bounded into the living room.

He chortled with delight before giving me a very odd combination of high five, handshake, and fist bump, which caused Sergio to burst into one of his fits of hysterical laughter. I swear that every time I saw Blake, he’d invented some strange new slogan or handshake or saying he wanted to coin, and this was apparently his latest. “You gotta ask when I’m rockin’ these duds? I’m still The Funky Boy, Evan, my man.”

Blake, aka “Funky Boy” to everyone who knew him, was small for thirteen, African American, with a short fro and a huge grin, who dressed in the best clothes our local thrift store had in stock. He always wore a hodgepodge of the old, the new, the outdated, and the hip. There was nothing about the boy’s attire that was unplanned, I knew, but to the casual observer he probably looked like he’d thrown on whatever was in the clothes pile at home. And that’s just the way Blake liked it.
Funky Boy
actually fit his persona quite aptly.

“Hey, Mr. B,” Blake said to Dad, offering him a casual chin raise. Then his eyes fixed on Sergio, giving him the once over, in a way that suggested Blake was
my
older brother inspecting my prom date. “You the boyfriend?”

Sergio was so taken aback by Blake’s direct approach, that he merely nodded silently. Very un-Sergio-like.

Blake squinted a bit, sizing him up while I watched with incredulity. “You look okay, but
this guy
–” he grabbed my arm by the bicep–“kicks ass in this town, and if you mess him up, I gots me a hundred kids who’ll whup your butt.”

I was so shocked that I looked over at Blake with a gaping mouth. Sergio’s mouth followed suit, falling open comically. But Blake only grinned and nodded, as if this was the way he’d greet any boyfriend I brought home. And, I realized at that moment, it was.

“Gee, uh, thanks, Blake,” I said throwing an arm around his shoulders. “But Serg is perfect.” I threw in a smile of reassurance and a small wink, aimed directly at my perplexed boyfriend, and Blake relaxed. He really had been worried, I realized. I had no idea he thought so much of me.

“Serg, meet Blake, funky kid from hell.”

Sergio jumped up and extended a hand, which Blake shook vigorously.

“Good handshake,” Blake said approvingly. “You play any sports?”

Serg shrugged and then cleared his voice before he answered. “I swim for the university. Did some lifeguarding at the local Y.” His posture was noticeably rigid.

Blake smirked. “I think you’ll do.”

Dad shook his head at Blake’s antics, which were well known in our town.

But Sergio eyed the kid as if trying to figure if he was for real or not. I nodded my head vigorously, assuring him that Blake was, indeed, the genuine article, and Serg offered me a crooked grin in return, which almost melted me with its rakishness. “Well, Blake, I’m happy to meet Evan’s…um… body guard. I promise not to mess him up.”

An airy giggle escaped my lips as Blake considered that response, and then he nodded, too.

“So, Blake, pull up the couch and kick it for a bit,” I said, waving my hand toward the space where I’d been sitting.

“No can do, Evan,” the boy announced, glancing down quickly at his thrift-shop fake Rolex, like he had important people he needed to see. “Just dropped by to show you this.”

He slipped off his canvas backpack and rummaged a bit till he extracted a sheaf of papers, stapled at the top, and wrinkled from the time they’d been stuffed away. Grinning with pride, Blake stuck the papers out at me like they were the secret codes to every video game in existence.

I could feel my face scrunching with confusion, but I took the papers and flipped through them as Sergio leaned in over my shoulder so he could see.

There were names in columns—names and addresses and phone numbers.

A lot of names, in fact…page after page of them.

I looked up at Blake, who was currently bouncing up and down on his heels. Perpetual energy—that was Blake. “What’s this?”

“A petition,” Blake announced with pride, “Started by me.” He puffed out his chest, which wasn’t very impressive, but somehow at that moment made him seem larger than life.

I must’ve looked like a deer in the headlights, because Blake laughed and flipped the papers back so I was looking at the first page again. “Read what it says at the top.”

I did, and almost fell back on the couch in a faint. Sergio pulled me out of my shock by whistling in surprise, and then he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. “I
told
you, didn’t I?”

I was tearing up
again,
and fought hard to keep my waterworks at bay. “H-how many n-names are on here?” I managed to stammer as I looked at Blake’s grinning face.

“Over a hundred,” the boy said. “I’m on my way around town now to get some more ’fore the meetin’ tonight.”

That information startled me, and I glanced over at Dad, who nodded. “Marcus Brent is holding a BLA board meeting tonight, son, you know, to get everyone ready for summer camp.”

I glanced at Serg, who tightened his grip on my shoulders, and I will admit that I was surprised to note how well his closeness calmed my pounding heart.

Blake laughed. “I got almost every kid and his parents to sign that,” he said, pointing to the petition in my hands. ‘’Cept maybe for Mr. Brent’s own kid and a few of his homies.”

I was speechless. Serg seemed to sense my legs were shaky, so he eased me down to the sofa, but to his credit, never lessened his hold on me. His strong arm felt perfect, and very needed, at this point.

“Why, Blake?” I muttered, my throat dry and my voice barely a whisper. “Why would you all do this for me?”

Blake looked at Dad and rolled his eyes, pointing at me like I was crazy, which maybe I was….

Dad chuckled, and Blake said, “Evan, my man, you gotta get yourself some confidence. You been, like, the best mentor us kids ever had, and you kicked major ass as troop leader last summer. You’re fun and funny and you care about us. You let us screw up and help us when we do. You just got it, Evan. All us kids wanted to be with you, and the ones that didn’t get to been asking all year if they could have you this summer.”

My mouth must’ve been hanging open again, because Serg reached over to close it gently with his fingertips, eliciting a burst of hearty laughter from Blake.

“When I found out they fired you,” Blake explained in rapid-fire succession, “man, was I pissed. Got right on the laptop and cranked out that petition. I figured the other cats would be down too. We figure they gots to rehire you if we all sign.”

I stared at this kid who I’d known all his life, and suddenly I didn’t see that same little boy anymore. This was a teen on fire, and he was way more courageous than I was even now. The simple fact that I had made any contribution to the emotional growth of this amazing kid humbled me, and, at the same time, it filled me with a sort of giddy embarrassment.

“Wow,” was all I could manage to mutter, as I fought to control my breathing as well as the burning sensation behind my eyelids. I glanced at Dad, still lounging comfortably in his chair and toying absently with his buttons, and he just smiled.

I regarded Blake uncertainly. “You guys don’t care that I’m, you know, gay?”

Blake glowered at me so intensely I thought I’d really made him mad. “Evan, you ever talked crap to me about how I dress and all the other crazy-ass stuff I be doing?”

I shook my head, afraid to say the wrong thing.

“Exactly,” Blake shot back in exasperation. “So why would I give a crap about you being gay? You still be you, and
you
is the guy us kids think is badass. You got that?”

I nodded, and from the way Serg smiled with compassion and then leaned in to kiss my cheek, I knew for certain that I must’ve looked like a kid being scolded by his teacher.
And
I knew for a fact that I turned red because Blake uttered something under his breath like “red as a freaking tomato” and laughed.

“Yeah, boyfriend seems legit,” he stated with nonchalance, as if that settled the still-pressing matter of Sergio’s suitability. Then Blake grabbed the petition back and returned it to the nether regions of his bursting backpack.

“Okay guys, I’m out. See ya at the meeting, Evan.” He glanced at Serg, who raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Bring the boyfriend.”

Then he was out of the living room like The Flash and out the front door.

I turned to meet Sergio’s soft brown eyes that danced with mirth. For a moment, we studied each other’s perplexed expressions, and then we both cracked up.

Dad stood with his empty glass and leaned down to gather up our glasses, too. I made a move to help him, but he shook his head. “Get yourself settled, son. Spend time with Sergio. Now that he has Blake’s stamp of approval, it’s all good.” We all smiled. “I have some work to do out back before the meeting at six.”

He winked as he took the three glasses and left the living room. Sergio looked at me and flashed that rakish grin I couldn’t resist. I leaned in and our lips touched, a long and deep kiss. This may sound like a crock, but it tasted of genuine love and support.
Yes
, I thought fleetingly as our lips melted together,
I can get through this as long as I have this man by my side
.

NEEDING to walk off nervous energy, I showed Serg around Cottonhead. The sun was blistering – no surprise there – but there was a slight breeze. I loved how it wafted Sergio’s shock of black hair this way and that, like the hair had a life of its own.

Cottonhead was an old town, with tons of old-school buildings and storefronts and even a single-screen movie theater. There were new malls and big box stores and movie-plexes now, ones that weren’t around when I was growing up. I liked the old part of town better.

“Your dad is awesome, Evan,” Sergio gushed as we strolled down the street. I did not hold his hand because I wasn’t sure how many people in town knew about me. “And that Blake is a trip. I think I’d better watch my ass, big time.”

I smirked. “No, that’s my job.”

Sergio’s eyes went wide since I almost never made off-color jokes, but his blush told me that he rather liked my remark. We settled ourselves on a wooden bench in a secluded corner of my favorite old park, behind a gigantic tree set far back from the street. I nestled against Sergio’s solid chest, head tilted against his shoulder, our hands clasped gently together. This was peaceful, just Serg and me. I’d seen so many couples over the years sharing this very spot, and dreamed of the day I’d have someone to share it with. And now I did.