Rainbow High (15 page)

When Nelson arrived home, his mom had already set the table for dinner. Next to his place setting lay a newspaper clipping headlined: HALF OF

ALL NEW AMERICAN HIV INFECTIONS OCCUR IN YOUNG PEOPLE AGES 13-24.

Slowly Nelson lifted his gaze from the paper. “Mom?” he uttered through clenched teeth. “Are you whacked?”

“Are you?” she retorted, and careful y spread her napkin on her lap.

Not another word passed Nelson’s lips during dinner. Under his breath he swore he’d never speak to her again.

When the phone rang during dessert, Nelson leaped for it, grateful for the distraction. “City Loony Bin.”

“Nelson?” It was his father’s voice. Great. Just what Nelson didn’t need.

“Hold on.” He extended the receiver out to his mom.

“Who is it?” she asked.

Instead of answering, Nelson started clearing the table.

“Hel o?” his mom said, taking the phone. She talked with his dad for a minute, then said, “Nelson! He wants to talk to
you
.”

“As if,” Nelson replied. Nevertheless, he took the receiver back. “Yeah?”

“Your mother cal ed me about this boy you’re seeing. Why do you have to upset her like this?” As usual, his dad never bothered to ask Nelson’s side of it.

“I’m not doing this to upset her,” Nelson protested.

“Wel ,” his dad retorted, “that’s what you’re doing, whether you mean to or not.”

“Yeah?” Nelson glared at his mom. “Did she also tel you how much she enjoyed meeting him? How she said she thinks he’s ‘wonderful’?

Her exact words. ‘Very mature.’ Thinks he’s going to be very good for me.”

His mom frowned, even though every word he’d said was true.

“She told me the boy’s sick,” Nelson’s dad growled.

“He has HIV,” Nelson corrected. “That doesn’t mean he’s sick. He’s healthier than I am.” His mom crossed her arms, her jaw clenched.

“She wants you to stop going out with him,” his dad insisted. “I want you to listen to her.”

“Like
you
ever listened to her,” Nelson snapped back. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to say that. Divorce residue, no doubt. He tossed the receiver back to his mom. “I’m going out.

“Going out
where?”
his mom demanded. “Nelson, wait!”

But he’d already grabbed his jacket and was out the front door, CD in hand.

As he walked toward the metro, he lit up a cigarette, pul ed his cel phone from his pocket, and dialed.

“I need to talk to you,” he said when Jeremy answered. “Can I come over?”

“Yeah, sure. What’s the matter?”

Nelson exhaled a stream of smoke. “I real y, real y want to see you.”

“You’re fading out,” Jeremy said.

“I want!” Nelson shouted. “To! See! You!” But the line had cut off.

The moment Jeremy answered the door, Nelson wedged him-self into Jeremy’s arms.

“I hate her,” Nelson groaned. “She’s an evil witch.”

“Your mom?” Jeremy’s voice rose in disbelief. He looked a little pale. Was something troubling him?

“Here.” Nelson pul ed the CD out from his jacket. “I got you this. You don’t have it, do you? It just came out.”

“Awesome!” Jeremy yelped. “I was going to get it! Thanks.” He pecked Nelson a kiss and turned to the stereo. “Let me put it on. Have a seat. My brother’s out.”

“Can I get us something to drink?” Nelson asked. “Do you want anything?”

He got them each a ginger ale while Jeremy put the music on. When he returned to join Jeremy on the loveseat, a thril tingled through him.

They were alone. But when he took hold of Jeremy’s hand, he again noticed Jeremy didn’t look quite right.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Um, not real y.” Jeremy rested his free hand on his stomach. “My stomach’s been upset al day. But never mind. I want to hear what happened with your mom.”

“Wel ...” Nelson took a sip of some soda, but it went down the wrong way. “I told her about—” cough “—you know—” cough “about you. And we got into—” cough “a sort of fight.”

“I knew this was going to happen.” Jeremy sat up, patting Nelson’s back. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

“Would you please not yel ?” Nelson took another sip of ginger ale. “She’s not going to stop me from seeing you.”

“I told you to tel her, didn’t I?” Jeremy lowered his voice. “This whole time I felt like I was keeping something from her.”

“She’s not going to control me,” Nelson insisted. “I’l be eighteen soon. She can’t rule my life.” Suddenly Jeremy made a pained face and clasped his stomach. He looked so odd that Nelson thought it was a joke. Then he realized Jeremy might be real y sick. “Are you al right?”

“I feel like . . .” Jeremy flinched. “Oh, no!” He leaped up from the loveseat and bolted to the bathroom, slamming the door.

A second later came the echoes of barfing—
so
not romantic. Nelson fiddled with an earring. He’d never had a date get sick. Should he excuse himself and leave? But this was al part of liking—or loving—someone, wasn’t it?

He walked to the bathroom and gently tapped on the door. “You okay?”

“I’l be out in a minute,” Jeremy moaned.

Nelson adjusted another earring. What to do? Glancing toward a shelf, he noticed his “love”-inscribed card to Jeremy proudly displayed.

Nelson’s heart melted. He couldn’t bail now, even if Jeremy’s cookie tossing total y grossed him out.

Beneath the chords of the country CD, the toilet flushed, fol owed by the sound of the sink faucet, then gargling.

Jeremy staggered from the bathroom. “I’m sorry.” He col apsed into the loveseat. “I’m so embarrassed.”

“Don’t be sil y,” Nelson said, sitting beside him. “Have some ginger ale. It’l soothe your stomach.” He raised the glass to Jeremy’s lips.

“Thanks,” Jeremy whispered and took a sip. “I think it’s the meds. They’re so toxic. My doctor put me on a new regimen. But I’m scared of getting ‘The Look.’ You know—the caved in face, Skeletor cheeks ...”

Nelson recal ed one of the adult facilitators of the downtown youth group, whose face
did
look caved in. But the guy was old already—at least in his thirties.

“Don’t be crazy,” Nelson said. “You’re too young for that.”

“Unfortunately . . .” Jeremy sighed, taking hold of Nelson’s hand. “I’m not.”

“Oh, you’l be fine.” Nelson leaned over, fol owing the scent of fresh mouthwash, to softly plant a kiss on Jeremy’s cheek.

They sat quietly after that, listening to the CD cowboy croon a sad bal ad.

Nelson had never real y thought of Jeremy as sick before. He’d always seemed so hunky and healthy. What if something real y serious happened to him? Who would take care of him?

Nelson interlaced his fingers between Jeremy’s. He was feeling something new, something different from what he’d felt with other guys. He felt like Jeremy needed him. He wanted to take care of Jeremy. He wanted to be there for him. No matter what his mom said.

The CD changed to an up-tempo track. “Do you real y know how to dance this stuff?” Nelson asked.

“Two-step?” Jeremy’s face lit up. “Yeah. Want to learn?”

“Aren’t you sick?” Nelson said.

“I think I’m okay now. Let’s try.” Jeremy rose, fol owed by Nelson. “First,” he instructed, “give me your right hand. Now put your left on my shoulder. That’s it.”

He slipped his arm around Nelson’s waist, resting his palm on Nelson’s back.

Nelson’s skin tingled. He’d never danced close with anyone, not even Kyle.

“Now, I’m going to start with my left foot.” Jeremy slid his thigh between Nelson’s legs.

Nelson gulped. Country music was quickly becoming his favorite.

“And you slide your right foot back,” Jeremy continued. “Now your left foot. That’s basical y it—two quick, short steps and two long, slow ones. Quick-quick, slow . . . slow.”

Awkwardly at first, he moved Nelson around the parquet floor, whispering, “Quick-quick, slow . . . slow.” Nelson tried to keep up, but how could he concentrate with Jeremy’s lips brushing his ear and his thigh pressing against him? “Crap. I can’t do this.”

“You’re doing great.” Jeremy led him across the room. Just close your eyes. Relax. Feel the signals my body gives you.”
I’m feeling the signals loud and clear,
Nelson thought. Everything seemed so right, so perfect.

“You okay?” Jeremy asked.

“I’m doing great.” Nelson grinned as the song twanged to a conclusion. Jeremy raised Nelson’s hand in the air and spun him in a final twirl.

Then he bowed and Nelson leaned onto him, out of breath. “Except I’ve got to quit smoking.”

“Nelson, let go!” Jeremy gasped, the blood draining from his face.

He clamped a hand over his mouth and pushed Nelson aside. This time Jeremy only reached the kitchen sink before starting to upchuck.

Fol owing after him, Nelson held Jeremy’s forehead, to keep it from hitting the faucet—majorly not romantic.

After Jeremy finished, he turned away, grabbing a paper towel to wipe his face.

“Whoa dude,” Nelson said. “Are you crying?”

“I’m sorry,” Jeremy said in a raspy voice. “I shouldn’t have danced. You must be so grossed out.”

“No, I’m not,” Nelson lied, putting his arm around him. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, right.” Jeremy blew his nose in the paper towel. “I better get to bed. And you better get home.” Nelson didn’t budge. “I can spend the night if you want . . . in case you need anything.” Jeremy gave him a skeptical look. “That would be cozy. You, me, and my brother. Besides, what about your mom? Does she even know where you are?”

“It’s none of her business,” Nelson mumbled. “I’m not a baby anymore.”

“But she’s stil your mom.”

Nelson cradled his head on Jeremy’s shoulder. “Whose side are you on?”

“I’m trying to help you see her side of it.”

Through Jeremy’s chest, Nelson could hear his heartbeat.

“How about if I cal and tel her I’m with you?”

“Yeah, then she’l
really
like me.” Jeremy pul ed away, gently prying Nelson’s hands off him. “Come on. I need to get to bed and you need to get home.”

It took another fifteen minutes of persuasion before Nelson final y left.

On his walk to the subway he tried to sort out the evening. It had kind of creeped him out seeing Jeremy sick. And his mom and dad weren’t helping matters. Between her having joined the sex police and the old goat phoning in a guest appearance, it was worse than a daytime talk show.

But then he remembered gliding across the floor in Jeremy’s arms, laying his head softly on Jeremy’s beautiful shoulder, feeling the tender thump of his heartbeat. He recal ed the card he’d given Jeremy displayed on the shelf. He thought of how Jeremy needed him. Wasn’t it al part of loving someone?

Sure it pissed him off that Jeremy was sick, but there was nothing Nelson could do about that. So why waste time thinking about it?

When he arrived home, the lights were on. Atticus met him at the door. His mom was reading
Newsweek,
no doubt scouring the pages for a newly alarming HIV article.

With dramatic flair she glanced at her watch. “You know this is a school night.”

“It slipped my mind,” Nelson replied, deadpan. “Did anyone cal ?”

She fired him her Wicked Witch of the West look. “Kyle did. You know, Nelson, your dad was very upset by your ignoring his phone cal .”

“Oh, yeah, right. Like he gives a crap?”

“He does!”

“He does not!” Nelson turned toward the stairway.

“Nelson!” She tossed her magazine down. “We’re not through discussing this.”

“I’m going to bed,” he cal ed over his shoulder. “It’s a school night, you know.” When he got to his room, he slammed the door. Plopping onto the bed, he pul ed out his cel phone to cal Kyle.

Kyle sat at his computer, absorbed in proudly e-mailing the GSA and everyone else he knew about Jason’s coming out. He didn’t even hear the phone ring.

“Kyle!” his mom cal ed. “It’s Nelson!”

Kyle snatched up the receiver. “Where were you?”

“Jeremy’s. Omigod, he got real y sick. It total y traumatized me—at least a little. It made me think. You know?” Kyle leaned away from his computer screen. Was Nelson final y getting some sense about dating Jeremy?

“But everyone gets sick sometimes,” Nelson said in the next breath. “He thinks it’s the meds. He taught me to two-step. Kyle? I think I’m total y in love with him.”

Kyle clamped down on his bottom lip, wanting to shout, “Nelson, he’s HIV positive!” But he knew it would be no use.

“I want to ask you something,” Nelson continued. “With Jason, do you ever feel like he real y
needs
you? You know what I mean? Like, you sort of feel you want to take care of him? Like you want to make him realize how special he is and be there for him?” Kyle thought about Jason’s brooding times, when his eyes turned stormy and he withdrew into himself—times when Kyle wanted to take him in his arms and soothe him.

“Yeah,” he told Nelson. “I know what you mean.”

“That’s how I felt tonight,” Nelson said. “Like he needs me. And I need him.” Kyle listened patiently, wanting to feel happy for Nelson finding someone special. Except, why did it have to be someone
positive?

Better to change the subject, Kyle decided, before al this made him nuts.

“I’ve been EM-ing everyone about Jason.”

“Oh, yeah.” Nelson yawned. “It should be an interesting day tomorrow.”

They talked for a while, til Nelson yawned even louder. “Whoa! I think it’s time for my beauty sleep.” After hanging up, Kyle stared at his life-size screensaver of Jason’s face, wondering if Jason’s coming out would change things between them.

He sent one more e-mail, then shut down his computer and climbed into bed.

When Kyle opened the door to school next morning, it felt as though a
Star Trek
force field had energetical y charged the entire building. In doorways and hal ways kids buzzed like crazy about one thing: Jason.

“Did you hear? Oh, my God! No way. I think it’s great. What a waste. Can you imagine? So bizarre. But he’s so cute. I don’t know, man. Can you believe he real y said that? It’s creeping me out. I want to see him.”