Rainbow Boys (18 page)

A fter Jason bolted from Kyle’s house the night they kissed, he sprinted crazily down the dark suburban streets past barking dogs, dodging cars like a fugitive fleeing some crime. Once home, he sneaked past the living room, terrified his dad might see him and somehow realize what he had just done.

He silently closed his bedroom door and bent over, his heart racing. A fter catching his breath, he stepped toward the dresser mirror. A little fearfully, he slid his fingertips across his lips, still in disbelief.

He abruptly whirled around and ripped his jacket off, flinging it to the floor. This was all Kyle’s fault. Jason never should’ve trusted him.

He knew Kyle would try something funny. He lifted his math book, filled with Kyle’s notes, and started to throw it against the wall, except

—

He had to admit Kyle hadn’t exactly forced him to kiss. It would’ve been easy to stop him. So why hadn’t he?

He bit into a nail, or what was left of it, hurting his finger. It was all too overwhelming. He needed to put this whole thing out of his mind. A s far as he was concerned, the kiss had never happened. Thank God it was December break from school. A t least he’d have two weeks not to see or think about Kyle.

A s usual, his Uncle Ramiro, A unt A na, and their two little girls drove from New Jersey for the holidays. Melissa giggled with her cousins, while Jason’s mom and aunt lugged home shopping bags stuffed with purchases.

Meantime, his dad couched out with Ramiro, swigging beers and arguing stupid crap, like which rum was better—Cuban or Puerto Rican—or whether a certain corporal during their Vietnam service was a maricón. They whined about promotions they should’ve received but were instead given to undeserving blacks or whites. Then their snipes turned to relatives who’d slighted them countless ways.

The arguments gave Jason different clues to his dad’s rage—his drinking, the war, career disappointments, family resentments. But just because his dad had suffered a hard life, did he have to make everyone else miserable?

Jason knew from prior years that the bitterness of his dad and uncle would inevitably ignite toward each other. Sure enough, it came after their traditional Christmas Eve dinner of roast pork and plantains. Jason was playing Old Maid with Melissa and their cousins when his mom screamed for him: “Quick! Jason!”

He ran to the living room. His uncle was gripping one of Jason’s trophies, about to bash it over the head of his dad, who staggered to shake free. Petite A unt A na was slapping Uncle Ramiro, trying to stop him, while his mom grabbed his dad.

Jason hesitated, tempted to let his uncle thwack his old man. But his mom screamed, “Stop them!” Reluctantly Jason helped pry them apart.

Then, as if nothing unusual had happened, everyone but he and his dad dressed up for midnight mass. Jason felt too upset to sit in church, but neither did he desire to stay home with his drunken father. Instead he walked to the park to shoot baskets.

Only the streetlamps lit the court, but he didn’t care. The cold night air felt fresh and cleansing after his crazy family. It never ceased to amaze him how much his life sucked. A s he drib-bled across the concrete, he prayed that somehow he’d get through. A fter several shots he remembered something a priest had taught him during First Communion classes: During bad times, think of just one person or thing to be grateful for. That would lead to another and another, until he no longer felt so bad.

First on his list was his mom, second was his little sister, then Corey, then his stuff, then … Kyle?

He gripped the basketball in mid-throw, surprised by the thought. In spite of the kiss, Kyle had helped him out a lot, not just with math, but with helping him to realize it was okay to be bisexual or whatever and not be a total flamer like Nelson. He didn’t want to lose Kyle’s friendship. He’d just have to make it clear to Kyle he only wanted to be friends, nothing more.

Satisfied with that idea, Jason shot one last basket and headed home.

The first day back to school, Jason had barely gotten to his locker when Corey rushed up to him. Gauging by the look on his face, something had happened.

“Man, I’ve got to talk to you.” Corey pulled him aside. “Debra told Cindy something you should know.” Jason bristled. But had he really expected Debra to keep what he’d said to herself? He knew the risk he was taking when he came out to her, and he’d done it anyway.

Corey glanced around and lowered his voice. “She said you’re …”

Was it so shameful that Corey couldn’t even say it? Jason said it for him. “Queer?” Corey nodded.

Jason braced himself. “What if I am?”

“Whoa, whoa!” Corey raised his hands to stop him from going any further. “No, you’re not. Settle down. Stop bullshitting. I know you’re not.”

Jason tried to calm down. It unnerved him that they were having this conversation in the middle of the crowded hallway their first hour back to school. “Believe what you want,” he told Corey, and pulled his books from his locker.

Corey stepped around to face him. “But what about you and Debra?” he protested. “I mean, didn’t you like it?” Jason closed his locker, frustrated. “Did I like sex with her? Yeah!”

Corey looked puzzled. “Then why would you …?”

Jason leaned back against his locker and glanced up at the wall behind Corey. “I don’t know. I just have these feelings. I wish I didn’t, but I do.”

Corey brought a hand to his forehead, like he’d suddenly developed a headache. “Look, man.” He narrowed his eyes at Jason. “I don’t care who you do it with. But you’re up for your scholarship letter. You want to mess that up?” Of course Jason didn’t. It wasn’t like he’d been eager to come out to Debra, and he hadn’t intended for her to tell Cindy, or for Cindy to tell Corey. It was snowballing out of control. He started chewing a fingernail, scared that his dream of a scholarship and escape from home was evaporating. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Man, I don’t know.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you?” Jason knew he sounded desperate.

Corey shook his head. “Of course not. You’re my best friend. I doubt Cindy will either. She thinks it’s cool.” Jason felt his shoulders relax a little. “Does it bother you? A bout me?”

“Well, no,” Corey said. He didn’t sound very certain, but at least he didn’t hate him, like Debra. That was a relief. He wished he’d told Corey sooner. Maybe he could’ve avoided this mess. Now he wanted to tell him more, about all the feelings he was having. But he wasn’t sure how to talk about it. “A re you surprised?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Corey said. “Though”—his voice became stern—“you better stop hanging out with Meeks.” Jason stopped cold. “What do you mean?”

“Look, if you don’t want people to find out, then don’t give them cause. Like I told you, people talk.” The bell rang but Jason didn’t move. He stood paralyzed, uncertain what to do. He’d returned to school resolved to continue his friendship with Kyle. Now his best friend was telling him not to.

Corey grabbed Jason’s arm. “Come on, man.” He pulled him down the hall. “You’ll be late for homeroom.” A t basketball practice that afternoon, Jason felt his timing was off. He started to think teammates were whispering about him. Then Dwayne fouled him, and he tripped, landing hard.

Coach Cameron blew his whistle. “Hey! What was that?”

Dwayne gave the coach an innocent look. “Sorry, Coach.”

Corey extended a hand to help Jason up.

“Carrillo,” Coach said. “Take a break.”

Jason hobbled off the court onto the bench. He studied Dwayne, trying to figure out if he’d done it on purpose.

A fter practice, Coach Cameron told Jason the Tech coach had called and asked more about him. “Don’t get your hopes too high, but it sounds like he’s interested.”

That evening Jason tried studying but kept thinking about what Corey had said. It felt like he was being forced to make a decision. He didn’t want to keep hiding, but he didn’t want to lose his chance at a scholarship, either.

In the kitchen, his mom and dad were arguing. “A l-A non?” his dad yelled. “What the hell’s that?” A pparently his dad had found out about his mom’s group—or she’d finally told him.

“It’s a twelve-step recovery program.”

A t his desk, Jason sensed someone watching him. He turned to see Melissa in the doorway, wearing her pajamas, covering her ears.

She whispered in a scared voice, “Can I come in?”

Jason stretched out his arms. She ran to him and tightly grabbed hold.

His dad yelled, “It’s a what program?”

Jason could feel Melissa’s heart racing. “It’s okay,” he told her.

“It’s a group for people in a relationship with an alcoholic,” his mom said, her voice quivering slightly.

“A couple beers makes me an alcoholic? You don’t need to go to any group.” Melissa let go of Jason and climbed into his bed, covering her ears.

“I’m not going to argue,” said his mom. Her tone was firm. “I’ll be home by ten.” His dad didn’t say anything. Suddenly Jason heard his mom shout, “Let go of me!” Jason jumped up, nearly knocking over his chair. But a moment later he heard the front door open and close.

“You’re abandoning your family!” His dad screamed after her.

His mom had defied his dad.

Melissa flinched. Jason walked over to her and smoothed her hair, trying to soothe her. He sat beside her till she was asleep, then he carried her to her room. He returned to his attempts to study, but his worries continued to intrude on his thoughts. If he didn’t get the scholarship, what would he do? Stay here with his dad? No way. Maybe Corey was right. He had to break it off with Kyle.

To Jason’s relief, the following morning no one else confronted him at his locker—nor in or between classes. He talked and joked with friends about Christmas vacation. By third period he’d decided his fears were mostly paranoia. His secret was safe. Now he just had to explain to Kyle they couldn’t be friends.

A t lunch, he sat with Corey and several teammates. A bruptly Corey motioned to him. “Heads up.” Kyle approached their table, tray in hand. “Hi!” His face was bright and smiling, with an innocent grin that made Jason forget all his resolve. He smiled back, glad to see Kyle after what seemed like years.

Corey cleared his throat, bringing Jason back to Earth. “Wha’s up?” he asked Kyle, as if he didn’t recognize him. He hoped Kyle would take the hint and leave quietly.

But Kyle didn’t go away. “Mind if I sit with you?”

Corey coughed, and Jason glanced over at him. Corey was shaking his head almost imperceptibly. A darted look at their teammates said the guys were watching. His message to Jason was clear: Don’t do it.

Kyle stood patiently, waiting.

Dwayne laughed. Out of the corner of his eye, Jason saw him flip his wrist toward his teammates. Jason could guess what he was laughing at: limp-wrist Kyle—or maybe him.

Kyle saw it too. His smile faded. “A re you going to answer me?” The last trace of his cheer had transformed into a stricken look.

“‘Cause people are staring and I’m starting to feel really uncomfortable.” It was killing Jason to treat the one person in the world who understood him like this, but he glanced down at the empty seat beside him. “Uh … someone’s sitting there.”

Kyle winced, his eyes turning wet. He exhaled loudly, then without another word he turned and walked away. Jason watched him cross the room and slide his tray through the return window.

“So, Jason,” Dwayne said in an effeminate voice. “Is he your new girlfriend?” In an instant, Jason leapt at him, fists clenched. Corey held him back. “Take it easy, man. He’s just joking. A ren’t you, Dwayne?” Dwayne nodded vigorously, shocked by Jason’s reaction. “Of course, man.”

Jason took a deep breath to calm himself. He sat down again, glancing at the door through which Kyle had left. There was no way could he just sit there. He stood up, abandoning his tray, and walked out of the cafeteria.

Kyle was almost out of sight down the hall. Jason raced to catch up with him. “Kyle!” Kyle kept walking.

“Kyle, wait!” Jason grabbed his shoulder and spun him around.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry.” He caught his breath. “I just don’t want people to think I’m …” He waited for a couple of students to pass.

“Well,” Kyle shot back, not caring who heard him. “You are, aren’t you?”

The students turned around, glanced at them, and walked away whispering.

“How about if we talk about this later?” Jason pleaded.

“A t my house?” Kyle snapped at him. “Where no one can see you?”

Jason knew he was losing his temper. “Look, all I wanted was help with math.”

“Yeah, sure. Is that what you call it?”

Corey shouted from the cafeteria doorway, “Yo, Jason!”

Jason glanced at him, then to Kyle. “I’ll call you later.”

“No!” Kyle said in the same tone Debra had used.

A familiar twinge gripped Jason’s stomach. He knew he was about to get dumped. A gain. He desperately wanted to stop it and was utterly incapable of doing so. If only he could make Kyle understand how difficult this was. Didn’t Kyle realize how much he’d opened up to him? How much he’d trusted him?

Kyle adjusted his glasses. “Jason, I don’t get what’s going on here. I want to help you, but”—his voice got a little mean with exasperation—“you’re acting like a creep.” He stared at Jason a moment, his jaw tight. Then he turned and left.

Jason gulped, wondering, Why do I always end up the bad guy?

That evening while he studied at his desk, Melissa sat on the floor and played with her dolls. Out of nowhere she asked, “What does

‘gay’ mean?”

Jason stopped writing. Had he heard correctly? He turned to see her brown eyes peering up at him, waiting for an answer. He knew she trusted him. He didn’t want to lie to her.

“Well … uh, what do you think it means?”

Melissa peeked down at her dolls. “I think it’s like when you’re really happy.” Jason breathed a sigh of relief. “Yeah, that’s what it means.”