Rainbow High (10 page)

“Where to begin? Wel , I did talk to MacTraugh after school. She brought up the RM thing.”

“RM? Oh, RM!” Kyle laughed and fel back on the bed, stroking his chest. “See? Everyone thinks you’re a role model.”

“Whatever,” Jason grumbled. “Anyway, I was late for practice, so I had to do fifty push-ups.”

“That sucks,” Kyle agreed, even though the image of Jason in his satin uniform, arms pumping, wasn’t the least bit sucky.

“Before al that,” Jason continued, “at lunch I was sitting with Corey when Cindy and Debra came over and . . .” Jason paused, clearing his throat. “Um, in conversation it sort of came up . . . about you and me.”

Kyle sat up again. “Was she angry? Debra, I mean?”

“Wel . . .” Jason hesitated. “She was angry I hadn’t told her. She said we need to talk, whatever that means.”

“Oh,” Kyle said, switching the phone receiver to his other hand so he could wipe the sweat from his palm. “At least now it’s out in the open.” Jason didn’t say anything for a moment, then he asked, “Are you angry?”

“No . . . I’m just . . . nervous. I guess I feel guilty.”

“Guilty?” Jason asked. “Why should you feel guilty? You didn’t do anything wrong.” Kyle switched the phone receiver again to wipe the sweat from his other palm. “Did she understand it happened after you and she broke up?”

“I told her that. Besides, she’s the one who broke up with me. It wasn’t your fault.” Kyle thought about Debra and Jason, his mind drifting to the whole HIV issue. “Um, since we’re talking about you and Debra, there’s something I want to ask you, but it’s, um, kind of personal.”

“What is it?” Jason said, his voice guarded.

Kyle gripped the phone receiver harder so it wouldn’t slide out of his hand.

“When you were going out with Debra? Did you, um, use condoms? Or was she—you know—taking the pil ?” Kyle held his breath, waiting. It bothered him he couldn’t see Jason’s response, but he was also glad Jason couldn’t see him practical y sweating a puddle onto the bed.

“What makes you ask that?” Jason said.

The testiness in his voice made Kyle want to take back the question. He let out his breath, shimmying up the bed onto his pil ows.

“Wel , um, since you and I are involved, I just—you know—want to make sure we’re safe, that’s al .” He listened to the silence on the other end of the line and tapped his hand on the bedspread, waiting. Final y he heard Jason sigh.

“At first we used condoms, then after a while she started taking the pil .” Kyle thought that through. It meant Jason had had unprotected sex with Debra.

“I wonder,” Jason continued, as though having a realization, “if maybe that’s part of why she was so angry at me about al this. Know what I mean? Maybe she was scared she could’ve caught something from me. Of course she couldn’t have, since I was never with anyone else.”

“And are you sure
she
was never with someone else?” Kyle asked.

“Yep. I was her first and only. That’s probably another part of why she’s angry.” Kyle slid down on the pil ows, feeling a little relieved.

“Listen,” Jason said. “Promise you won’t spread it around about her being on the pil , okay? She might not want people to know.”

“I won’t,” Kyle reassured him. “Thanks for—you know—being honest with me about it.”

“No problema,
“Jason said, yawning. “It’s getting late. I should
get
to sleep. See you tomorrow?”

“Okay,” Kyle said, and added, “I love you.”

It was the first time he’d said it since they’d made love. He could hear his heart thumping while he waited for a response.

“Love you back,” came the voice from the other end. “Good night.”

Kyle lay awake for a while, watching the neon tetras in his aquarium flit from side to side, and wondering: Would he ever get used to being in love with a boy who used to like girls?

The fol owing day was fairly uneventful, with the exception of a calculus quiz for which Kyle wished he’d studied more. But he felt that way every test, even though he always ended up getting the highest grade in class.

After school he walked to the pool for swim team practice. In the locker room he changed into his swim briefs, trying to ignore the usual testosterone high jinks—burps resounding off the tile wal s, lockers being slammed, and general horseplay.

“Hey, Meeks!” a teammate yel ed, striding in late. “Coach Sweeney said she wants to see you.”

“Thanks,” Kyle said. He figured she probably wanted to talk about some doughnut sale or car wash, since Kyle helped to organize the team’s fund-raising projects.

He finished tying his drawstring and started out the door, but not before Charlie Tuggs faked a cough, uttering “faggot” beneath his breath.

Kyle ignored it. Ever since he’d spray-painted his locker, a handful of teammates had started snubbing and harassing him. He felt like shouting “Grow up!” but figured that would only fuel them more.

Through the pool-office window, Coach Sweeney motioned him in. “Hi, Kyle. Have a seat.” She peered at him across the desk, pressing the palms of her thin, tanned hands together.

“Is something wrong?” Kyle asked.

“I don’t know how to say this.” Coach Sweeney took a deep breath. “I’l just say it. One of your teammates objects to having to shower in the same room as someone who proclaims he’s gay.” She lifted a sheet of paper off the desk. “His father sent a rather forceful note.” Kyle stared at the paper, speechless. Why was this happening to him? He’d never even remotely come on to any guy on the team. In fact, he went out of his way to avoid glancing at his teammates in the shower. They were the ones who yanked down each other’s briefs, pretending they were joking.

“Kyle, I’m not sure how to ask you,” Coach Sweeney was saying. “But I need to know. Is there any reason this boy should be concerned?”

“No!” Kyle snapped. How could she even think that?

“Okay.” Coach Sweeney backed off. “I believe you. But I’m afraid this is uncharted territory for me. What do you think we should do?” Kyle gazed out the office window at the boys walking onto the indoor pool deck, swim goggles in hand, laughing as they stretched. He wondered from whose dad the note had come. Maybe if he just reassured the guy . . . But why should he have to reassure anyone?

“I don’t know,” he said. He wanted to tel her she should rip the note up and tel the boy and his dad to go jump into a huge, bottomless lake.

But Kyle liked Coach Sweeney, and obviously she was struggling with this.

“I can wait til I get home to shower.” He gave a shrug of resignation. “It’s no big deal.” Coach Sweeney pressed her lips into a smile. “Thanks, Kyle.”

During practice he watched his teammates, trying to figure out who was responsible. And he outraced each of them, his times better than ever.

When Kyle arrived home, he opened the front door and picked up the mail on the floor. Crossing the foyer, he glanced through the pile, expecting the usual junk.

But an envelope from Tech caught his gaze. Tearing it open, he found a freshman housing form asking dorm preferences. It wasn’t due for several weeks. Hopeful y by then he’d have a more concrete idea where he and Jason would both be going.

He started to toss the rest of the pile on the side table when he noticed another envelope—this one from Princeton.

His heart jumped. A mil ion thoughts sprang into his head. Could he actual y have been accepted? But then what about Jason? Kyle had applied to Princeton in the fal , pre-Jason. Never in a mil ion years had he imagined they’d become boyfriends.

Kyle turned the envelope over, half hoping for some hint of its contents. He held it up to the light. Nothing showed through. His heart was racing, his mind spinning.

He laid the envelope on the table and sat down, holding his head in his hands, trying to think. What should he do? He’d put off seriously considering he might actual y get accepted to Princeton, til now.

Maybe he should throw the letter out, pretend he never got it. Yes, that’s it. He got up, snatched the envelope, carried it into the kitchen, and opened the trash compacter.

The envelope dangled between his fingers. But shouldn’t he at least find out whether he’d been accepted? He’d probably been rejected anyway. At least then his dad would get off his case. Besides, if he did simply throw out the letter, his dad would eventual y cal the admissions office anyway.

And even if Kyle had been accepted, that didn’t mean he had to go. Being accepted would be a huge compliment, but wasn’t it mainly an ego trip? After al , what real y mattered was that he go to col ege, not necessarily which one. If Princeton had accepted him, he’d simply turn it down.

He wedged his index finger beneath the flap of the envelope, tearing it open. He unfolded the letter and quickly scanned the page. Halfway down, the words rose up at him.

We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance for admission.

Kyle slumped against the kitchen counter and stood there, stunned.

Then, like a volcano gaining momentum, his whole body began to shake. Erupting in excitement, he leaped into the air, screaming and hol ering. “Yes! I did it! I actual y got in! Yes!”

Of course, this absolutely screwed up his life. Hadn’t he practical y promised the love of his life to go with him to either Tech or community col ege?

Kyle raised the letter again and read back over it once more, just to make sure.

Yep, the words stil read the same.

Kyle paced the kitchen. He had to tel someone, but whom? Someone who’d help him figure out what to do.

His dad? No way. He’d already made his bias clear. His mom? She’d probably agree with his dad. Jason? Not til Kyle could calm the thoughts running amok in his brain.

Nelson? Hmm. Nelson
was
his best friend. But what if he went ka-bonkers, as usual? But who else could help Kyle sort out his mixed feelings?

He picked up the phone and dialed. “Hi, it’s me.”

As soon as Nelson heard Kyle’s voice, he shouted, “Woo-hoo! Did you get your housing form?” His fingers snapped in the background. “Of course we’re dorming together. We’re going to have so freaking much fun!”

Oh, great,
Kyle thought. Nelson was already going whackers.

“Nelson?” Kyle said firmly, trying to calm him down. “Something’s happened.”

“Omigod,” Nelson said, his voice plunging. “What? Are you al right?”

“Um . . .” Kyle gripped the receiver, summoning his courage. “Remember last fal when I applied to Princeton?” Nelson’s end of the line went suddenly silent—an ominous sign. Nelson never went silent.

“Hel o?” Kyle said, his voice quavering.

“You got accepted,” Nelson replied in a sul en voice. “Didn’t you?”

Kyle hesitated, his heart slipping down inside him. “Yeah.”

“Kyle!” Nelson shouted. “I
told
you not to apply to Princeton, didn’t I?”

“I know,” Kyle squeaked. “But I didn’t think I’d get in.”

“I
told
you,” Nelson repeated. “I said if you apply, you’l get in. But you wouldn’t listen to me. You expect me to listen to you, but do you ever listen to me?”

“What was I supposed to do?” Kyle said. “You know my dad insisted.”

“Stand up to him!” Nelson replied. “Have some
chutzpah.
Go where
you
want. You don’t have to do everything he says.” Kyle bristled, the back of his neck growing tense. “I don’t do everything he says. And if you wanted us to stay together so much, why didn’t you apply to Princeton too?”

“Kyle, you and I both know they’d never accept me.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Kyle? Yes, I do. I’m not smart enough and my dad’s not an alumni.”

“Alumnus.”

“See?” Nelson huffed. “I am so total y pissed at you. We’re talking about our col ege experience, Kyle. We always said we’d go to col ege together. Remember when we took that stupid test last year? We had to list col eges we wanted to go to—and you and I agreed wherever we went, we’d go together. Remember?”

“Yes, I remember.”

“And you remember,” Nelson railed on, “I didn’t even
want
to apply to geeky Tech. I did it to be with you!” Kyle sighed, feeling guiltier every minute. “I’m sorry, Nelson. I’m real y sorry.”

“Don’t you dare try that puppy dog whimper. How could you do this?”

“Wel , I haven’t said I’m going to accept it yet.”

“Yeah, right. You know what? I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“I said I’m sorry!” Kyle shouted.

“I can’t deal with this,” Nelson said. “I gotta go.”

With that, the line clicked off. A moment later, the dial tone buzzed in Kyle’s ear.

Kyle slid down into the kitchen chair, hating his life.

The front door sounded. “Kyle!” his mom cal ed. “I’m home!”

Quickly Kyle grabbed the Princeton letter and shoved it into his pants pocket. He wasn’t ready to discuss it with his mom and dad yet. First there was one other person with whom he needed to talk. But how on earth could Kyle tel him?

“Mr. Perez?” Principal Muel er’s throaty voice blared out of the loudspeaker during the middle of algebra. “Is Jason Carril o in your class?” Jason sat up in his seat. He’d been dreading this moment ever since Coach had mentioned Muel er.

“Yes, sir,” Mr. Perez shouted toward the speaker. “He’s here.”

Classmates turned to stare at Jason. Oh, great. Not only did he have to face Muel er, he’d have to deal with the whole school speculating about why the principal had cal ed him down.

“Please instruct him,” Muel er’s voice squawked, “to report to my office immediately.” As the loudspeaker crackled off, a few of Jason’s goofbal classmates started teasing and hooting.

“Quiet!” Perez yel ed. “Or I’l send you al down.”

Boy, was that the wrong thing to say. The catcal s only got louder as Jason col ected his books and headed out the door.

His footsteps echoed against the lockers in the empty hal way. A mil ion questions ricocheted around in his head. What exactly had Coach told Muel er? And how had Muel er responded?