One Man Guy (21 page)

But before Alek could decide, the door to his bedroom swung open violently. A figure holding a golf club above its head, poised to strike, leaped into the room.

“Call the police!” Ethan screamed as he lunged, knocking the figure down to the ground.

Alek jumped over Ethan and the assailant to reach his desk, fumbling with his password-protected cell phone.

“9-1-1,” the operator stated crisply in Alek’s ear. “What’s your emergency?”

Screams erupted as two more people appeared in the doorway, one holding a baseball bat and the other wielding his mother’s favorite Le Creuset cast-iron skillet, the one she kept hidden in the front closet.
How would these intruders know how to find that?
Alek wondered.
Unless
 …

“Stop! No one move!” Alek screamed.

Everyone in the room froze.

“Sorry, ma’am, there’s no emergency,” Alek said into the phone, hanging up. He flipped on the light, revealing his brother and mother standing in the doorway and Ethan, his fist raised, pinning Alek’s dad on the floor.

“Ethan, stop!” Alek yelled, grabbing Ethan’s arm before the punch could land. Ethan looked down and quickly scrambled off Mr. Khederian.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Alek’s dad. Are you okay?”

“Of course I’m okay,” Alek’s dad replied indignantly, rising to his feet. He looked at Alek. “Are
you
okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Alek asked.

“When we got here, the front door was open, and the house was such a mess, I assumed it had been ransacked,” his mother explained, putting the skillet down. “We thought we had arrived mid-robbery.”

“So you snuck up here to apprehend the burglars?” Alek asked incredulously.

His mother nodded.

“God, you’re so baroque! Why didn’t you just call the police? What if one of these imaginary robbers had a gun?”

“We did call the police. But we were worried about you,” his mother said.

“Why is the house such a mess?” Alek’s father demanded. “And what were the two of you doing up here with all the lights off and…” His father trailed off. Alek felt his cheeks sting bright red. Everyone in the room stood in awkward silence as Alek’s family realized what they’d walked in on.

Everyone except for Ethan, of course, who just sat back on the floor and started laughing.

“You think this is funny, young man?” Alek heard his father say in the low voice he reserved for the worst situations.

“Well, dude—”

“I’m not a dude. I’m an adult. You can call me Mr. Khederian. Although after what I’ve seen tonight, I doubt you’ll ever call me anything again.” Now it was Ethan’s turn to freeze. Alek had seen Ethan charm himself out of situation after situation, but even his most winning smile was a powerless trinket in the face of an enraged Armenian patriarch. “What’s your name?”

“It’s, uh … uh…” Ethan stuttered.

“His name is Ethan Novick,” Nik volunteered nervously. “He’s in my class at school.”

“Mr. Novick, I imagine the police will be arriving within a few minutes. If you’re still here by then, I have every intention of telling them you’re a trespasser.”

“I wasn’t trespassing. I’m a friend of Alek’s,” Ethan protested.

“Unfortunately for you, this is not Alek’s house. It’s mine. And if you remove yourself from it in the next sixty seconds and I’m confident that I’ll never have the displeasure of seeing you here again, there’s a chance you won’t spend the evening in jail. Am I being perfectly clear?”

Ethan looked at Alek. Alek knew he should say something—that he should stand up for Ethan or explain to his parents that things weren’t as bad as they seemed. He knew, at least, that that’s what Ethan would do. But instead, he hung his head in silent shame. Even more than his parents’ shock, he could feel Ethan’s disappointment burn into him.

“Yes, sir,” Ethan said, grabbing his shirt and bolting out of the room.

Alek ran out and followed Ethan downstairs to the front door.

“I need to get out of here, man,” Ethan said. “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Ethan, there’s no way I’m going to be able to meet you tomorrow.”

“Why not?”

“Are you kidding me? My parents are going to kill me. Maybe, if I’m lucky, they’ll just ground me until senior year. But the chances of my being free to go into the city tomorrow morning are pretty much the same as my sprouting wings right now and flying there.”

“Just crash at my place tonight, then,” Ethan offered, his eyes twinkling.

Alek stared at him in disbelief. “You just don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“What it’s like to have to do what your parents say.”

“You don’t
have
to do that, Alek. You
choose
to. Just like you’re
choosing
not to meet me tomorrow, even though you know I’ve planned something special.”

“You don’t understand, because your dad doesn’t care what you do.”

“You don’t know a thing about my dad,” Ethan said sharply. “So don’t use him as the excuse for being too much of a pussy to stand up to your folks.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Alek backtracked.

“Whatever,” Ethan said. “You better go up to those terrorists who care about you so much they’re going to ground you forever. Catch you later, dude.” Ethan ran out, slamming the door behind him.

Alek stared at the back of his front door stupidly for a second, then slowly climbed the stairs back up to his room.

“Aleksander Khederian, you have so much explaining to do that I don’t even know where you’re going to begin,” his mother said when he reappeared in the doorway to his room.

“I didn’t think you guys were coming home until tomorrow.” Alek felt the tears rising up in his eyes. “If you guys would just let me explain—”

“I don’t think I need an explanation for what I just saw,” his father told him. “You’re a disgrace to this family.”

The blood drained out of Alek’s face, and he exhaled sharply, as if he’d been punched in the stomach. His hands started shaking, and he leaned against the door frame to his bedroom. He looked at Nik, impossibly hoping that his brother would stand up for him, or even just say something. But Nik looked away, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Alek, before you go to sleep tonight, you will clean the entire house, top to bottom,” his father said. “Tomorrow morning at eight a.m., you will come to the dining room, where your mother and I will discuss this week’s events. After the day we just had, all we wanted was to come back home and get some rest. I can’t tell you how disappointed I am that you’ve denied us even that. We expect full honesty and full disclosure. Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, Dad.” Alek dropped his head and waited for the rest of his family to leave his room.

18

At 7:55 the next morning, Alek walked into the dining room and sat down at the table. He stifled a yawn. Cleaning the house had kept him up later than he was used to, and he knew this wasn’t the time to cut corners. Not only had he thrown all the trash away, but he even took the recycling out and scrubbed the kitchen down, using an old toothbrush to get into the hard-to-reach corners. Then he emptied the refrigerator so he could wipe it clean, which he knew was his mom’s least favorite task, because of how she worried about the food going bad at room temperature.

When he finally got to bed, he was too anxious to fall asleep. He lay awake staring up at the ceiling, his mind racing and his heart pounding, until he finally drifted into a restless slumber. When he woke up in the morning, he couldn’t remember the nightmares he had had, only the bizarre impressions they’d left.

The sound of his parents walking down the stairs caused Alek to sit up straight. They entered the dining room and sat opposite him, in front of the credenza that stored the family’s good china and silverware.

His mother looked especially formidable, dressed in the power suit that meant she’d be going into work this Sunday. His father was wearing a button-down shirt tucked into crisp brown pants, a formal departure from the sweats he usually wore since he’d been laid off. Alek was suddenly able to imagine what it would be like to meet them in a work environment: not as his warm, providing parents, but as serious, educated, driven professionals.

“Aleksander, when we left you alone last Monday, it was an act of trust and respect. In so blatantly violating the guidelines that we set down, you disrespected us and you shattered that trust,” his mother began.

“But I didn’t—” Alek interjected.

“That’s enough,” she cut him off immediately. “We will make it clear when we want a response from you, and when we don’t. This is an instance of the latter.”

“Yes, Mom.” He looked over to his father, who met Alek’s gaze blankly, his face a stone mask.

“We’ll start with the thing that upsets us most,” his mother continued.

“I know what you’re going to say, and I think it really sucks,” Alek jumped in. “You guys are totally homophobic. If you had walked in on Nik and Nanar making out, there’s no way you’d react like this.”

“We’re not talking about Nik, and we’re most certainly not talking about Nanar,” his father exploded. “Besides, Nik is almost seventeen, and this is about you. Now. At fourteen. And if you think you and that boy are what upset us the most, you don’t give us nearly enough credit.”

Alek faltered. “What do you mean?”

“You know your mother and I met while we were living in New York. Don’t you think we had any gay friends?” his dad asked incredulously.

“I guess I didn’t think—”

“You can say that again,” his father muttered.

Alek’s mom gently put her arm on her husband’s shoulder. “Alek, you remember Tim?”

“Uncle Timmy, dad’s roommate?”

“Yes, well, Uncle Timmy was my first boyfriend in college. He came out right after we broke up.”

“Uncle Timmy is gay? Why didn’t you ever tell us?”

“I suppose it felt easier not to. But I wish you had as much faith in us as we usually do in you. We brought you and Nik up to be open-minded, and I think that’s the least you can expect from us.”

“So you don’t care if I’m gay?”

“Of course I care. I am your mother. I care about anything that happens to you. And if it were up to me, would I pick you being gay?” Alek’s mom’s voice broke. She paused for a second, weighing the question and the implications of her answer. “To be honest, I probably wouldn’t. But I’m saying that because I saw how hard it was for my gay friends to come to terms with their sexuality, in the aftermath of the AIDS crisis, to live in a world that wasn’t thrilled to have them. And even though I think it’s better now, I hate the idea of my baby having to deal with any more pain in this world than he already has to.” Alek’s mom paused again, tears welling in her eyes. Then, with surprising ferocity, she said, “And if you think this excuses you from providing me grandchildren, you couldn’t be more mistaken.”

“Um, and how exactly do you expect me to do that?” Alek asked.

“You’ll figure it out,” his mother informed him.

“You can adopt. Lots of gay couples do that,” his father said.

“I know, I know,” Alek responded, still trying to absorb this unexpected turn of events.

“Then we’ll continue.” Mrs. Khederian produced an envelope from her briefcase. Alek recognized it as one of the pieces of mail he’d gathered during his parents’ trip. “Can you explain this to us, Alek?”

Alek stared at her stupidly for a second.

“This is one of the times that we would like a response,” his mom prodded.

Alek picked up the envelope. Inside was a memo from the school, listing his absences.

“This is what upsets you most?”

“You know how important education is in this house,” his mom stated.

Alek had spent all night and morning dreading this meeting with his parents. It had consumed him as he was cleaning up the house. It had kept him awake late in the night, and when he was finally able to fall asleep, it haunted his nightmares.

But now he relaxed. He knew that the rest of this meeting was going to be difficult and uncomfortable. He knew he’d have a lot of apologizing to do, and that it would take time before things were normal again. But he realized his parents were behaving exactly the way he should’ve expected: putting academics before everything else.

“I cut school to go into New York with Ethan,” Alek confessed.

“Is that where you got your hair butchered? In New York?” his mother asked.

“Well, yes, but that was a different day.”

“So we’re going to add going to New York unchaperoned to your list of offenses,” his dad said.

“Yes, Dad.”

“And what about the second cut—the afternoon period on the twenty-ninth?”

“I got into a fight with Ethan, so I went to the Dairy Queen to find Becky.”

“And why weren’t we notified about any of these absences?”

“I forged a note from Dad,” Alek said, looking away.

His father shook his head in disbelief.

“And so we add forging your father’s signature and, worst of all, lying to us.”

“Yes,” Alek mumbled. When he was performing these individual acts, they hadn’t seemed especially deceitful. But when they were laid out bare like this, Alek had to admit they formed an impressive litany.

“Is there anything else you want to tell us?”

“Um, I sorta didn’t hand in an English paper on Friday because Ethan and I went into New York again.”

“And let me guess—you were planning on forging another note?” his father demanded.

Alek nodded yes.

“Your father and I spent all night wondering how you could behave in a way that was so irresponsible and immature and so, well, unlike you. The only thing that we can attribute your behavior to is this boy, Ethan. He must be a bad influence. The Alek I know would never have done any of those things.” His mom folded the paper back up and returned it to its envelope.

Alek’s parents exchanged a glance before his mom spoke again. “We don’t think you should see him again.”

“Are you kidding me?” Alek started choking up. “You spend all this time telling me how you’re not homophobic, and now you’re telling me that I can’t see Ethan anymore? Mom, Dad, please. Punish me as much as you want. Double my chore load until I’m a hundred. Ground me until I go to college. But don’t tell me I can’t see Ethan.”