Rainbow Boys (15 page)

During the next play his elbow slipped into Lenny Spratt’s nose. The coach ordered him outside.

A fter practice, the sports bus dropped him off at home. From the driveway, he heard his dad’s voice inside the kitchen, arguing with his mom. That was the last thing he needed. He avoided the kitchen and walked past the family room. His little sister was playing in front of the TV. Upon seeing him, her brown eyes lit up. “Will you play with me?” She ran to him.

Between his fight with Debra and the extra laps at practice, he was wiped. “Sorry, monkey,” he said, prying her little hands loose from his pant legs. “Maybe later.”

“Please?” she begged. Her eyes looked so lonely.

“Okay,” he gave in. “I’ll swing you around one time, but that’s it—only once.” She clapped her hands. He swung her twice before retreating to his room. Rex followed behind him, meowing, and hopped onto the bed. Jason closed the door.

Through the air vent he heard his parents shout in the kitchen. He turned on the stereo to drown out their voices and lay down on the bed, listening to the music and stroking Rex. He thought about the fight with Debra. She’d probably tell everyone about him. He should’ve kept his mouth shut, he told himself. Life sucked.

Suddenly the bedroom door flew open. Rex leapt off the bed and ran under the desk. Jason’s dad stood in the doorway. “Shut that off,” he yelled, pointing at the stereo. “I’ve told you before. I don’t want it that loud.” Jason bolted upright on the bed, swinging his feet to the floor. “I’ll turn it down. What’s the big deal?”

“Why don’t you use your headphones?” his dad barked.

“They’re broken.”

“Well, I don’t want to hear it,” his dad growled, and strode out.

Jason closed the door, turned the volume back up a tiny bit, and lay down on the bed again. He heard his dad resume shouting at his mom.

A soft song came on. Jason turned the stereo volume just a little louder, to hear it better. Rex stared at him from under the desk.

“Come on,” Jason whispered. “Don’t be afraid. He’s gone.”

Rex lifted one paw after another through the frame of the desk chair. His ears pricked as he cautiously watched the door. Then, as if assured the coast was clear, he leapt onto the bed. Jason picked him up and stroked him. The slow song ended and a fast one started.

Within seconds, the door burst open. “I told you to turn that off,” his dad shouted. Rex sprang up, scratching Jason’s forearm and kicking him in the chest. His dad stormed over to the stereo and ripped out the plug, silencing the music.

Jason sat up. “What’re you doing?”

“Teaching you a lesson.” He wrapped his arms around the stereo.

Jason leapt to his feet. “But it’s mine. You can’t do that.”

His dad lifted the stereo. “It’s my house, and I told you I didn’t want to hear it.” A s he started across the room, the tangle of speaker wires caught on the shelves, knocking several books to the carpet. Rex cowered beneath the desk.

Jason watched, horrified. “You’re going to break it!”

“Get out of my way,” his dad yelled, yanking the speaker wires from their jacks.

His mom ran into the hall behind him. “Stop it! What’s going on?”

Rex darted toward the doorway, stepping between his dad’s legs. His dad stumbled off balance and the stereo fell from his hands, banging onto the carpet. Jason stared in disbelief.

“Goddamned cat,” his dad cursed, and glanced at the fallen stereo. “That settles that,” he said smugly.

“How could you do that?” his mom demanded.

His dad stepped past her. “I told him I didn’t want to hear it.” His voice trailed down the hall. “He knew what he was doing. Maybe he’ll listen to me next time.” The front door slammed. Outside, the truck started.

Jason swallowed, choking down his fury. “I hate him.” He knelt beside the stereo, wiping his eyes with his hand, refusing to cry.

His mom knelt beside him and put her arm around his shoulder. “We can fix it.”

“What for? He’ll just break it again.”

His mom rubbed his neck.

“I hate him,” Jason repeated, pounding the carpet with his fist. “If he ever lays a hand on me again …” His little sister appeared in the doorway. “What happened, Mommy?” She walked over to them and buried her head in her mom’s shoulder.

“Shh,” his mom said, stroking her hair. “It’s over now. You hungry? It’s time to eat.” She looked at Jason. “You want to go out for pizza? The three of us?”

Jason didn’t feel like going anywhere, but he didn’t want to stay home and stare at the stereo either.

During dinner Melissa did most of the talking. When they returned home, Jason reattached the speaker wires, but it did no good—the stereo was definitely broken.

“How about if I get you one of those little CD players with the headphones?” his mom said.

Jason shrugged. He tried to do his homework, but he was too upset to figure out the math assignment. From his drawer, he pulled out Kyle’s note. Maybe he should call him, just to talk. But what if Kyle brought up the movie theater? He couldn’t deal with that tonight, not on top of all the other shit going on. He closed his math book and climbed into bed, exhausted. Within seconds he was asleep.

In algebra the next morning Perez handed him a quiz from earlier in the week. A D marked the top of it.

“You were doing great,” Perez said. “What happened?”

Jason stared at the wall clock. He couldn’t even begin to answer the question. He knew Perez meant well, but he wouldn’t understand.

The more Jason thought about it, the more he realized that the only person in his life who really understood him was Kyle.

One morning during the second week in December, Kyle arrived at school to find a group of students gathered in the hall pointing at his locker. A s he got closer, his heart sank. A cross the front in prominent letters was scratched the word queer.

“A www,” said a familiar voice. Kyle whirled around to face Jack Ransom.

“Tsk, tsk.” Jack feigned a sympathetic pout, then shouted, “Too bad, homo!” José Montero nudged him, and they turned to see Mueller approaching.

Jack snarled at Kyle. “See you, queer.”

Mueller ignored the remark and called out, “Meeks! Tell Glassman I’ve passed the decision about your club to the school board.” He noticed Kyle’s locker and quickly glanced in the direction of Jack and José. “Did you report that?” he asked Kyle.

“What for?” Kyle responded. He was becoming as cynical as Nelson. Before this year, he’d never understood the degree of bashing that Nelson experienced. By staying in the closet and keeping to himself at school, he’d managed to avoid things Nelson went through every day. Now homophobia seemed to be confronting him from every direction—his family, school, Jason….

On two occasions Kyle had waved at Jason only to see him spin around and walk in the opposite direction. Kyle thought, I shouldn’t have held his hand at the movie. Obviously that wasn’t what Jason wanted. Or if it was, he clearly wasn’t ready for it.

Kyle felt silly to have gotten his hopes up. He should just forget about Jason. From now on, he wouldn’t have anything else to do with him.

That Sunday after lunch, Kyle lay in bed trying to resist his desire to stare at Jason’s picture in the Zephyr, and failing. From downstairs his mom called, “Kyle? You have company.”

Kyle rolled out of bed, put his cap on, and jogged down the hall to the stairway, expecting to see Nelson. When he saw the visitor beneath the balustrade, he nearly careened over the side.

From the foyer below, Jason said, “Wha’s up?” casual as an apparition.

He gave Kyle a sheepish look. “I was wondering … if you could help me with my math? If you’re not busy. You said—if I wanted to come over …”

Kyle adjusted his cap. Hadn’t he sworn not to have anything more to do with Jason? Nope, not him. Must’ve been someone else. “Of course I can help you.”

Kyle’s mom offered to take Jason’s coat. His dad walked into the foyer and introduced himself. “That’s quite a grip,” he told Jason. “You look like an athlete. A m I right?”

“He’s on the basketball team,” Kyle said proudly.

“Guard,” Jason clarified. “I’m better at D. I can’t score as much, but I can guard.” His dad gave a smile of approval. “I used to play guard. How many points do you average?”

“Last year, sixteen per game. Some guys on the team are a lot better than me. You should see the recruiting mail they get. But I’m only six feet. I get lucky shots sometimes, but I’m not consistent. A couple of coaches are interested in me. I may get into a Division One school if I’m lucky, but never Georgetown or Villanova. I’ll probably end up at Tech.” His dad nodded with interest. “I’ve encouraged Kyle to make new friends who are more athletic.” He turned to Kyle. “I’m glad you’re taking my advice for once.” He was making Kyle feel like a kid again—in front of Jason.

A pparently his mom noticed. “Honey,” she interjected. “The boys want to do homework.”

“Huh?” he blinked. “Oh, sure.”

Kyle seized the opportunity. “Come on up,” he told Jason.

A s he led Jason into his room, Kyle noticed the Zephyr on the bed, still opened to his favorite photo. He quickly grabbed the book and shoved it into his nightstand. Fortunately Jason didn’t seem to notice. He looked around the room and lifted a trophy from the dresser.

“I don’t have as many as you,” Kyle said.

“I don’t have any swimming trophies,” Jason said. “You know how to do those turns?”

“Flip turns? They’re not really hard. I can teach you if you want.”

Jason put the trophy back and noticed the photo of Kyle taken after winning the hundred-meter breaststroke at regionals the previous year. The picture showed him dripping wet, wearing only his swim briefs. Kyle rushed to turn the frame facedown on the dresser. “Oh, don’t look at that.”

Jason grinned. “Why not?” He picked up the photo. “It’s a good picture of you.” Kyle blushed. “I look so skinny you can count my ribs.”

Jason put the photo down and looked up at the model of the starship Enterprise hanging from the ceiling. “Wow! Did you make that?

How long did that take?”

“A bout three days. My dad used to buy me models all the time. You a Trekkie?”

“Yeah.” Jason nodded. “Especially Voyager.” He slid his backpack off his shoulder, dropping it onto the floor, and walked over to the aquarium. “Cool fish.” He turned to the computer. “Man, you’ve got your own computer?”

“If you ever want to use it, you’re welcome to come over.”

“Here.” Jason unzipped his backpack and pulled out a poster. “It’s from the movie we saw.” He blushed and folded his arms. “I, uh, got it the other day when I biked past.”

Kyle admired the poster, feeling moved by the sentiment—a memento of the first time they held hands. “Thanks,” he whispered.

Jason cleared his throat. He pulled the chair from the desk and sat down. “I …” He shuffled his feet on the carpet. “I told Debra.” Kyle slid his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Told her what?” He sat down on the armchair.

Jason stared at him, as though it was obvious. “You know … that I think I’m … you know … that I think I’m bisexual.” Kyle was surprised, to say the least. First Jason showed up at his house after avoiding him for weeks. Now this? “What did she say?” Jason hung his head. “That she hates me.”

He sounded so sad that Kyle wanted to reach out and hold him. But his parents were downstairs, and there was no telling how Jason He sounded so sad that Kyle wanted to reach out and hold him. But his parents were downstairs, and there was no telling how Jason might react.

“I’m sorry. It must be hard.”

Jason wiped his cheek. “I just wish she didn’t hate me.” He grabbed his backpack off the floor, zipping it open. “It was over between her and me anyway.”

The implication of what Jason said suddenly struck Kyle. Jason was no longer Debra’s boyfriend. Kyle’s stomach fluttered—from either happiness or nervousness, or both.

Jason pulled out his math book. “I could really use your help. Oh”—he dug a cassette out of his backpack—“and I brought you back your tape.”

“Why? You can keep it.”

“Uh, I don’t have anything to play it on.” He placed the cassette on Kyle’s desk. “My stereo broke. My dad …” He put his fingertips to his forehead.

Obviously something was troubling him. “You all right?” Kyle asked.

Jason removed his hand. “I don’t know. Sometimes I think it’s okay, then other times …” His dark eyes looked pained. “I get really scared, you know?”

“Uh, not really. What do you mean?”

“Never mind.” He scooted his chair over to Kyle. “Let’s just study, okay?” But Kyle felt too worried to drop it. “I’d like to understand. I’ll listen if you want.” Jason looked him up and down, trying to decide. “If I tell you,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “promise you won’t tell?” Kyle nodded.

Jason shifted in his chair, sat up, and then slouched down, starting and stopping, struggling to get the words out. “A long time ago, when I was ten years old, a friend—my best friend—spent the night. We took a bath and afterward clowned around. Dumb kid stuff, you know? Then me and Tommy …” He paused and his voice became low. “We … you know … touched each other.” His eyes shifted between the door and Kyle, like he was ready to bolt. “I never told anyone that before.” A pparently he expected a reaction from Kyle. But Kyle wasn’t sure what to say.