Rainbow High (13 page)

“Wel , I stil haven’t decided yet.”

“Nelson?” Kyle’s mom tapped on the door. “Your mom’s on the phone.”

“Oh, crap,” Nelson moaned, covering his head with the pil ow again.

Kyle opened the door and took the cordless as his mom peered in. “Thanks, Mom.” He closed the door again.

Nelson yanked the pil ow off his head. Frantical y he flailed his hands, signaling Kyle to say he wasn’t there.

“Hi, Mrs. Glassman,” Kyle said into the phone. He could never bring himself to cal her “Felicia,” even though she asked him to. “I’l put Nelson on.” He held the receiver out.

“No!” Nelson shouted in a stage whisper. “Tel her I’m not talking to her.” Kyle slid his palm over the mouthpiece. “Nelson!”

Nelson balked, shoving his hands beneath his armpits.

“Nel-son!” Kyle hissed. “If you don’t want to talk to her,
you
tel her.” Nelson gave Kyle an evil look. Final y he took the phone.

For about five minutes he argued with his mom, saying things like, “No! I don’t care. Oh, yeah? You do that, see what happens.” In between, he rol ed his eyes, sputtered, sighed, moaned, and made faces, til at last, he hung up and hissed, “Dragon lady!” Kyle knew there was no point arguing. It was best just to let Nelson rant, which he did for about half an hour, til he final y went home.

After he’d left, Kyle’s mom stopped by. “Is everything al right?” she asked. “Nelson’s mom sounded pretty upset.”

“Everything’s fine,” Kyle said, not wanting to go into al the Jeremy stuff.

But his mom sat down on the bed across from him. “What’s going on, honey?”

“Nothing!” Hoping to put her off, he added, “Just boyfriend stuff.”

That was the wrong thing to say. “Oh?” Her brow piqued with interest. “Does Nelson have a boyfriend now?”

“Yeah, sort of. I guess.” Kyle
really
did not want to go into this with his mom.

But she did. “You and Nelson should invite him over sometime.” Her voice brimmed with congeniality. “I’d like to meet him.”
Oh, peachy,
Kyle thought. He could just imagine her freaking out once she learned why Nelson’s mom had freaked.

“Um, Mom? I’m not quite done with my homework.” He gestured to his book.

“Al right,” she said, standing up. “But if you or Nelson ever need to talk about ‘boyfriend stuff,’ as you cal it . . . She gave Kyle’s shoulder an affectionate tug. “I want you to let me know. Okay?”

Kyle nodded, managing a smile.

His mom bent over and kissed him good night. He watched her leave, wondering: Would she be able to understand his “boyfriend stuff,” like why he couldn’t bear to leave Jason for Princeton?

The fol owing evening, while Kyle finished setting the table, his dad sorted through the day’s mail.

“I don’t understand why you haven’t heard from Princeton yet.” He tossed the stack aside. “You want me to cal tomorrow and find out when the letters are being sent?”

Kyle bit into his lip, debating whether to come forth. His mom sat down opposite him, setting a dish of steaming green beans on the table.

Kyle drew a deep breath, looked down at his own plate, and said in a low voice, “Um, I already got my letter.” It took a moment for him to summon the nerve to look back up. His dad’s brow was furrowed, either in anger or confusion, while his mom’s eyes were wide with surprise.

She spoke first. “You got your letter from Princeton?”

The enthusiasm in her tone made Kyle want to crawl beneath the table. He swal owed the lump in his throat and nodded.

“Honey!” his mom exclaimed. “When? Today?”

“Um . . .” Kyle’s fingers nervously clinked his knife and fork together, fidgeting. “Um, actual y, a few days ago.” His mom glanced across the table at his dad. His dad blinked, obviously baffled.

“Why didn’t you tel us, son? Didn’t you get accepted? You should’ve told us.” Kyle hesitated. Should he let them believe that? It would solve everything. But he couldn’t deceive them.

“No,” he admitted. “I was accepted.”

His dad leaned forward. “You were accepted?”

“Yeah.”

“Wel , Kyle!” His dad shook his head, his brow wrinkling with agitation. “When were you going to tel us?”

“Um, now. I guess.”

“Honey!” his mom spoke up. “What’s going on? Why didn’t you mention it?”

“I’m, um . . .” He gulped a sip of water, trying to get the words out, and noticed his hand trembling. “I’m not sure I want to go to Princeton.”

“Not go to Princeton?” his dad boomed. “Kyle, what’s the problem?”

“Um, I’m thinking of going to Tech.”

His dad pushed his chair back from the table, like he needed more breathing room, then he leaned forward again. “I thought Tech was your fal back school. Isn’t that what we agreed?”

“Yeah, but um, I’ve decided I want to go to Tech.” Kyle was trying to keep his voice calm, but his dad’s rising pitch wasn’t helping.

“Kyle, this is not your decision alone.”

“I’m the one going to school!” Kyle’s voice grew louder.

“Yeah,” his dad growled. “But
we’re
the ones paying for it.”

“Then you should be happy,” Kyle was nearly shouting. “Tech is cheaper.”

His dad narrowed his eyes. “It’s Nelson. He’s behind this, isn’t he?”

“No!” Kyle snapped back, definitely shouting. It made him furious the way his dad always blamed everything on Nelson. He turned to his mom. “Can I be excused?”

“We’re not through talking,” his dad bel owed, his face muscles straining. “I want to know what’s behind this.”

“It’s my decision,” Kyle shouted, his voice choking. “That’s al there is to it. You can’t tel me where to go. Or I won’t go anywhere!” His mom chimed her fork against her glass, the family signal for a time-out.

“Can I be excused?” Kyle repeated.

“You haven’t touched your food, honey. How about if we al calmly finish eating and have a family council after dinner, okay?”

“I don’t want to eat anything.” Kyle crossed his arms.

His mom gave him a stern look and passed him the string beans. “I’d like you to eat something.” He glared back at her, then uncrossed his arms and took the dish of beans, but only because he was a little hungry.

Family council was a parenting thing his mom had begun when Kyle was in grade school. It was supposed to be a discussion but it was actual y more like being summoned before the Supreme Court. His dad sat in his massive leather recliner on one side of the living room. His mom sat on the crimson velvet wingchair opposite. Kyle slouched on the sofa facing them, ready for his family’s own version of the Spanish Inquisition.

His mom smoothed her pleated dress. “Now, honey, what’s going on? Why didn’t you tel us you’d received your acceptance to Princeton?”

“Because ...” Kyle said, sitting up. “I’m not sure I want to go there. Everyone I know is going to Tech.” His dad’s mouth opened to say something, but Kyle cut him off. “Not just Nelson! Other friends too, and . . . Jason.” His dad adjusted his glasses. “Jason’s going there? Is that what’s swaying you?” Kyle wasn’t sure how to answer. His dad might like for him to go to Tech with Jason. On the other hand, he might dislike Jason for taking him away from Princeton. “That’s part of it,” Kyle said.

“Jason is a fine boy,” his mom said. “You know Dad and I both like him. We understand he’s special to you. But what you need to consider now is academics, the quality of your education. A school like Princeton wil open a lot of doors for you.”

“Tech’s a good school,” Kyle argued.

His dad shook his head. “We’re not saying it isn’t. We’re just saying that since you’re fortunate enough to be able to choose between a good university and an
extraordinary
university, the choice is obvious.” Not to Kyle it wasn’t. “I don’t want to leave my friends.”

His dad gripped the arms of the recliner. “We’re not paying for you to hang out with your friends.”

“I’m not going just to
hang out with my friends,”
Kyle mimicked his dad. “I’l go to school—just not the school
you
want.”

“Wel ,
you
applied there,” his dad yel ed. “If you were going to turn it down, then why’d you apply in the first place?” Kyle’s head was burning, his breath coming hard. How could he
not
have applied there, when for seventeen years, every other word out of his dad’s mouth was “Princeton-this” or “Tigers-that.” Kyle had wanted to please him. And he’d always dreamed of going into their math program. But he’d never imagined he’d become boyfriends with Jason. It wasn’t fair.

“Fine,” Kyle said. “If you don’t want to pay for col ege, then I’l pay for it myself.”

“Yeah?” his dad leaned forward. “How?”

“I’l . . .” Kyle thought for a moment. He hated having to depend on his parents. He wished he had the money to do whatever he wanted. “.. . I’l get loans!” He kicked his feet onto the coffee table, pleased with his reply.

“Oh, that’s real y smart.” His dad smirked. “Borrow thousands a year and compile massive debt, just so you can hang out with your friends!

That’s bril iant.”

“Guys?” his mom intervened. She turned to Kyle. “Honey, I’m sure not
all
of your friends are going to Tech. People go to different schools, but they manage to keep in touch. You’l stil get together during breaks and in the summer. It’s not like you’l never see them again.” Kyle knew she was right. He could get by seeing his other friends during vacations. But it was hard to imagine life without Nelson’s daily wheedling and cajoling. As for being separated from Jason—his parents may as wel stretch him out on the coffee table and rip his heart out right now.

“Besides,” his mom purred on, like some hypnotist. “Wherever you go, you’re going to be plenty occupied with your coursework, believe you me. Col ege is a lot tougher than high school. You need to think about this decision very careful y. The school you go to can make a big difference in whatever you decide to do in life.”

Yeah, sure. As if he had the foggiest idea what he was going to do with his life. The future seemed so vast and uncertain, whereas the present—his friendship with Nelson and his love for Jason—were so immediate, so essential. Couldn’t his parents see that?

“You don’t understand.”

“Honey, we do understand. We know Jason and your friends are important to you. But you’ve been accepted to one of the finest schools in the country. Opportunities like this take sacrifices. If they’re real y your friends, they’l appreciate that. And they’l stay your friends throughout the course of your life, regardless of where you go.”

But would Nelson stay his
best
friend? And would Jason stay his
boy
friend?

“When do you need to let them know your decision?” his dad asked.

“Next week.”

“Honey ...” His mom let out a deep breath. “You know we both love you. We only want what’s best for you.” Kyle waited to see if she’d finished. “Am I free to go now?”

His dad replied with a disapproving frown. His mom sighed and nodded. Kyle stood and trudged up the stairs.

In his room, he cast himself atop the bed. After staring at the ceiling for a while, he pul ed out the Princeton letter from his nightstand. He’d careful y hidden it between the pages of his yearbook, opposite his favorite photo of Jason, at last year’s basketbal championships.

His gaze shifted back and forth between the letter and Jason’s photo. How could he leave Jason? And how could he pass up Princeton?

Next day when the lunch bel rang, Jason pressed his way through the tide of students waving and high-fiving.

As he entered the cafeteria he spotted Corey and some teammates. He was about to join them when he saw Dwayne.

Never mind,
Jason decided. Turning in the opposite direction, he noticed Nelson, wearing a blinding pink shirt, exiting the food line.

Instantly Jason’s mind flashed forward. As if watching two cars approach, about to col ide, he knew he was powerless to stop what was about to transpire.

Dwayne put his foot out and simultaneously bumped Nelsons shoulder. Nelson lost his balance, tumbling to the floor, his tray crashing beside him.

The lunch crowd turned toward the commotion, whistling and jeering.

As Nelson picked himself up from the floor Dwayne shouted, “Why’d you bump me, faggot?” Nelson yel ed back, “You bumped into me, jackass!”

At that, Dwayne grabbed him by the col ar.

In an instant Jason was beside them. “Let him go, Dwayne.”

Dwayne glared back at him. “Stay out of it.”

Meanwhile Nelson, wedged between them, wore an almost beatific smile, as though brimming with unwavering faith in Jason.

“I saw what you did,” Jason told Dwayne. “Now leave him alone.”

Dwayne’s mouth opened to snarl something, but Corey stepped in, nudging them apart. “Come on, guys. You’re both going to get in trouble.” He gestured to a cafeteria monitor marching toward them.

Dwayne released his grip on Nelson, shoving him away. “You know,” Dwayne sneered at Jason, “people are starting to think
you’re
a fag.” Jason’s stomach clenched. A month prior he migh’ve winced or lashed out at the remark, but he’d been through too much since then. “What if I am?” he vol eyed back.

As soon as the words leaped out of his mouth, he remembered his promise to Muel er.
Oh, crap.

Corey and his other teammates darted glances between one another, Jason, and Nelson.

“No, you’re not!” Andre said, with a hol ow laugh. Odel and Wang joined in.

“What’s going on, boys?” the cafeteria monitor asked.

“Nothing,” Corey said and gently tugged Jason’s arm.

“Come on, guys. Lunch is already half over.”

Dwayne shot Jason one last scowl and spun toward the food line, fol owed by the others.

“Go ahead,” Jason told Corey. “I’ve got something to do.”

Hurrying out the lunchroom door, Jason thought he heard Nelson yel , “Thanks,” but he didn’t take time to look back.

“Coach, can I talk—” Only after Jason had tapped on the doorway did he realize Coach was on the phone.

“Sorry,” Jason whispered and leaned back out to the hal . While Coach growled into the receiver, Jason bit his nails and tried to gather his thoughts.