Rainbow High (24 page)

“When,” she yel ed, “did you decide that?”

“About a month ago. Didn’t I tel you? I thought I—”

Before he could utter another word, she tore off on a rant. “If you think I’m going to pay for you to just lay around the house and sleep al day . .

.” Blah, blah, blah. “You’d better get a job because you’re going to have to pay rent . . .” Yadda, yadda, yadda.

Nelson kept waiting for her to pick up the phone and bring his dad into it. Yet she didn’t. And for that, he was grateful.

After half a week of railing and raving, she began petering out, instead asking reasonable questions: “Why don’t you want to go to col ege?

Do you realize how necessary a university education is?”

“I know, Mom,” he replied as he helped her carry the lawn furnishings out from the garage. “It’s not like I’l never go to col ege. I just feel like I need a break, that’s al .”

“For how long?” His mom’s tone was skeptical.

“I don’t know.” Nelson unfolded a chaise lounge. “A year maybe. A gap’ year. Lots of people do it.”

“Wel , I won’t have you just lazing around the house.”

“I think you’ve made that clear, Mom.”

By the end of the week the spring weather had turned warm enough for Nelson and his mom to wear shorts.

“Okay,” she announced. “I’l agree to your so-cal ed gap year on one condition. Before school ends—by graduation time—you have to come up with a plan. I don’t care if it’s a job, or volunteer work, or some sort of classes, but you have to do something productive, al right?”

“Al right.” Nelson nodded, wondering what the heck he would do.

“What do you think?” he asked Kyle as they walked home after school.

“Aren’t you going to community col ege with Jeremy?” Kyle asked.

“Nah. That was before we broke up. What if—just my luck—we ended up in class together? After everything we’ve gone through, it would feel too weird.”

They walked quietly, kicking a rock down the sidewalk between them, while thoughts clunked around in Nelson’s head.

“You know he was going to be my prom date. Now who am I going to take? I’l feel like a tag-along loser going by myself.”

“Couldn’t you stil go with him as friends?” Kyle asked. “Didn’t he say he wanted to be friends?” Nelson lit up a cigarette. “Kyle, everyone says that when they break up. It’s code for ‘Later. Have a nice life.’” Kyle’s brow scrunched up. “But don’t you want to be friends with him?”

Nelson took a deep drag from his cigarette and blew the stream of smoke out his nose. “Can we just drop it? This is real y starting to get on my nerves. No, I don’t want to be friends. And I’m not asking him to the prom.” When they got to Nelson’s, Kyle worked on his calculus homework while Nelson peered in the mirror, spiking his hair with gel.

“Besides,” Nelson said abruptly. “What if he says no? You may as wel just put a knife through my heart right now.” Kyle turned the page of his math book. “And what if he says yes?”

Nelson glowered into the mirror at him. Sometimes he wanted to strangle Kyle.

Several days passed, and the GSA celebrated securing Muel er’s approval for same-sex dates to the prom. Meanwhile Nelson kept turning over in his mind, should he cal Jeremy?

One evening, after feeding and walking Atticus, smoking three cigarettes, and surfing the web for an hour, Nelson final y summoned his nerve to pick up the phone and dial.

“Hel o?” answered the friendly, familiar voice.

“Um, hi.” Nelson paced the room with the phone to his ear. “It’s me.”

He waited. Would Jeremy recognize his voice?

“Nelson?” Jeremy said. “How’s it going? I’ve been meaning to cal you.”

“Same here,” Nelson said, as the tension left his shoulders.

They made smal talk—awkwardly at first—about school, Kyle, Jason, Nelson’s mom, Jeremy’s friends.

Gradual y Nelson calmed down enough to sit in his chair. But when it came time to say why he’d cal ed, he stood up again. “Listen, did you mean it when you said you want to stay friends?”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said, his voice genuine.

“Wel , then, um . . .” Nelson began pacing again. “My prom’s coming up? And, um, Kyle and Jason are going? And, um, I was wondering if you wanted to go with me—as friends? We could al hang out. I’l pay for your ticket, but you’d have to rent a tux.” Nelson waited, twisting his finger around his silver neck chain.

After what seemed like a mil ion years, Jeremy said, “Wel . . . I never went to my
own
prom. And my brother has a tux I can borrow. I’d like to see you and Kyle again—and meet Jason. Yeah, I would like to go.”

“Awesome!” Nelson leaped up off the floor. He could hardly wait, though the prom was stil several weeks away.

Immediately after hanging up, he cal ed Kyle.

“Guess who’s going to prom with me—as friends. You happy now?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said. “Are
you?
”

“No. Now I have to decide what kind of tux to get. Okay. I guess I’m a little happy. Hey, thanks.”

“For what?” Kyle asked.

“For making me cal him.”

When Nelson got off the phone, his thoughts returned to Jeremy. What would it feel like to see him again? Would he be able to accept being merely friends? Or would prom turn out a disaster?

That week Kyle had his final swim meet of the season. In the weeks since the hotel room fiasco, things with the team had gotten loads better, thanks largely to a school meeting he and his dad had had with Coach Sweeney.

The three of them had sat across the desk in the pool office.

“Thank you for coming in this morning,” Coach Sweeney said, shaking hands with his dad. “Kyle has always been a superb member of the Whitman team—both as an outstanding swimmer and helping with fund-raising projects. That’s why I was very disappointed with his behavior during the trip.”

“So was I.” His dad fol owed her gaze across to Kyle. “But from what I understand this al began because of a note sent from a parent. Is that correct?”

“Not exactly,” Coach Sweeney replied. “I believe it began because of Kyle’s coming out.” Kyle sat up to protest but his dad spoke first.

“If he wants to come out, that’s his right. Isn’t it?” His dad’s tone made it clear he expected agreement.

“Mr. Meeks . . .” Coach Sweeney drew an audible breath. “You have to understand that your son is not the only member of this team. Other parents hold different views.”

“I appreciate that,” his dad said firmly. “What I don’t agree with is why my son should have to alter his showering simply because someone else feels uncomfortable with him.”

Coach Sweeney massaged her knuckles. “What solution do you see, Mr. Meeks?”

“You’re their coach. It’s up to you to set the rules. But unless my son is doing something wrong, then maybe those boys and their parents are the ones who need to alter
their
behavior.”

Kyle wanted to jump up and cheer as his dad pressed on.

“How has the basketbal team handled their coming-out situation?”

“I don’t know.” Coach Sweeney squeezed her hands together nervously. “I haven’t heard that it’s been a problem.”

“Then maybe—” Kyle’s dad stood up “—you should ask their coach how he handled it. Anything else we need to discuss?” Coach Sweeney shook her head.

Later that week, she cal ed a meeting of the team. For an hour, they talked about name-cal ing and respecting others. Charlie Tuggs huffed, rol ed his eyes, and glared at Kyle.

But for the remainder of the season, Kyle had showered together with the other guys, and Charlie left him alone.

One evening, when Kyle’s dad was reading the paper, Kyle stepped up behind him and leaned over the chair, embracing him.

“What’s up?” his dad said.

“Nothing.” Kyle rested his chin on his dad’s shoulder. It was the closest he’d felt to his dad in years.

Nevertheless, it was to his mom that Kyle turned when it came to asking for prom money.

One evening when she came to his room to say good night, he asked, “I was wondering if . . . Could you help me with money for a tux and stuff?”

She leaned against the doorway, smiling. “I think so.” But then her brow rose, questioning. “Are you taking someone?”

“Yeah. Jason. Who else?”

“Oh.” She nodded. “Okay.”

Kyle hadn’t
explicitly
asked Jason yet. He’d been waiting til the basketbal season ended. But then he decided to wait til after the col ege decision fuss was resolved. And then he decided to wait til after the GSA secured approval for same-sex dates.

“When the heck are you going to ask him?” Nelson insisted as they waited for the metro one afternoon. “Fifteen minutes before the dance?”

“It’s just ...” Kyle peered down the track, searching for the train. “What if he doesn’t feel ready to go to the prom with me?”

“Kyle! He kissed you in front of a whole stadium of people, didn’t he? Of course he’s going to go to the prom with you. You made me cal Jeremy. Now you cal Jason!”

“Okay. I wil . Lay off.”

But Nelson pul ed out his cel phone and began dialing.

“Nelson, what are you doing?” Kyle reached to grab the phone but too late.

“Hi, Jason? This is Nelson. Yeah, wha’s up? Hey, I’m with Kyle. He wants to ask you something.” With a brazen smile, he extended the receiver to Kyle.

Even though Kyle wanted to kil Nelson, he took the phone. “Hi,” he said tentatively.

“Wha’s up?” Jason replied. “Nelson said you wanted to ask me something.”

Nelson puckered his lips and made kissing sounds.

Kyle waved him away and spoke into the phone. “Yeah, um, you and I hadn’t real y talked about the prom yet? So, um, you want to go? ...” He swal owed the knot in his throat and added, “with me?”

On the other end of the line he heard Jason chuckle softly. “I was going to ask you.”

“Real y?” Kyle asked.

Nelson stuck his forefinger down his throat as if to puke.

“Yeah,” Jason said. “You want to go with me?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said, uttering a sigh.

After they’d finished talking and Kyle flipped the receiver closed, Nelson exclaimed, “Thank God that’s over with!” Kyle lifted the phone as if to clobber him. But instead he wrapped his arm around Nelson’s shoulder in a bear hug, just as the train arrived.

The fol owing Saturday afternoon, Kyle and Jason rode their bikes to the mal to choose and reserve their tuxes.

At the formal wear shop, a perky silver-haired saleslady walked them around the cramped display floor, pointing out a variety of tuxedo styles: traditional, high fashion, and ultra formal.

When they reached the last mannequin, the lady clerk asked, “Do you boys know the color of your dates’ evening gowns?” Kyle and Jason stared at the clerk a moment, then at each other. Jason turned again to the clerk and deposited his arm around Kyle.
“We’re
our dates.”

The clerk’s brow furrowed a moment, then her eyes grew wide with comprehension as the blood drained from her face. “Oh.” She cleared her throat.

With the warmth of Jason’s arm resting on his shoulder, Kyle thought how much Jason had changed in the past few months—coming out to the world and coming to accept himself. It had been what Kyle wanted, but he’d never expected it to happen so fast.

While the saleslady nervously shuffled to the stockroom for tuxes, Kyle’s mind drifted to his life’s dream: to someday marry the guy he loved, have a house, raise kids.

The current moment seemed like one more step toward that dream.

If only the future weren’t so uncertain. Where would Jason go to col ege? Would their relationship endure their time apart?

The saleslady returned and Jason pul ed on the silky black tux jacket she handed him. In the three-way mirror his tal , handsome reflection extended time after time toward infinity. He turned to Kyle, his face glowing with promise.

And in spite of al the future’s uncertainty, Kyle thought himself the luckiest boy on earth.

After having reserved their prom tuxes, Jason and Kyle hung out at the mal ’s food court, where over ice cream they joked and giggled about the saleslady in the formal wear shop.

As Jason bit into his cone, he spotted Coach Cameron with his wife and one of their daughters, talking and pointing in a store window while walking in Jason’s direction.

Several weeks had passed since Jason apologized to Coach Cameron for losing his temper in his office.

“I’m real y sorry for how I acted,” Jason had uttered, head bowed. “I know you always did everything you could for me, Coach. That means more to me than you’l ever know.”

He had glanced up to see Coach working a hand across his jaw, as if recovering from a blow. “Wel , let that be the first and only time you go off like that.”

That had been the last Coach spoke of it.

“Come on!” Jason now told Kyle. “Hey, Coach!”

Jason led Kyle across the mal and introduced him.

“Oh, yes,” Coach said, shaking Kyle’s hand. “I remember you from after the championship game.” The blood rushed into Jason’s face as he recal ed their postgame kiss. But even so, he felt glad to introduce Kyle to Coach—at least better than he’d felt introducing him to his dad.