Strings Attached (22 page)

“That looks so great on you,” Arthur laughed admiringly. “I can’t wait for your aunt to see you in it.”

He nodded. “I’m only going to wear it on special occasions.”

“You do whatever you want with it.”

“Can I open the other present now?”

“Please.”

In three seconds, he had stripped off the gaily wrapped paper.

Inside was a buttery leather baseball mitt, a hardball, and a black cap.

He furrowed his brow, half smiling as he blinked. “Wow. Thanks, Arthur, but I don’t get it. I mean, I never really learned how to play baseball,” he confessed. “I can’t even throw a ball.”

“I figured as much.” He beamed. “I’m gonna teach you, old buddy. On the beach. We can play catch together.”

Jeremy was overcome. He dropped his head to hide his welling tears.

“Hey, don’t cry.” Arthur pulled him up into a gentle hug. “Crying’s illegal on Christmas.” He smoothed the back of his head with his hand.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffled. “I can’t help it.”

“It’s OK,” Arthur whispered to him, as they rocked together peacefully. “It’s OK.”

“Ellie caught you and Coby
together
?” Carlo’s eyes were huge, his chin slack. “I sure didn’t see this coming. Could you be any more of a
puta scandalosa
?” They sped northbound along Pacific Coast Highway in the Rover toward school for their first day back after winter break.

“I know, and now Reed won’t even talk to me. She won’t even return any of my e-mails.” He scanned the road ahead, weaving between the slower-moving cars and trucks stopped for the light ahead at Paradise Cove. He jerked the big vehicle into the right-hand turn lane and floored the accelerator as the signal switched green, cutting off the first rows of waiting cars. Horns blared.

“That’s cold, man, real cold,” Carlo laughed, his eyes sparkling and cheeks rosy. “So when are you and Coby getting married? Can I be the maid of honor?”

“Don’t you mean matron?”

“Very funny.”

“I haven’t had the guts to call him since I dropped him off at his house the next morning. In fact, no one talked the whole way home. Total silence, except for the radio. Even Ellie kept her big mouth shut.”

“So the front-runner for the Mr. Heterosexual American Teen competition wanted to do you, Jeremy.” Carlo shook his head unbelievingly. “I said you could have anyone you wanted.”

“I mean, I can’t say I hadn’t thought about it, you know, but I never thought it would happen,
ever.
Kind of like picturing what it would be like winning the lottery or something.”

“Which you obviously keep winning,” Carlo noted sourly.

Jeremy ignored the jab. “I wasn’t prepared for it, for him. Otherwise it would’ve probably turned out really different.” He swerved to avoid a car braking for a driveway.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that if I had ever thought it really might happen, I never would’ve gotten in so deep with Reed,” he said, glancing Carlo’s way. “I feel like shit for doing this to her. I mean, we said we loved each other and stuff—but I’m still not even sure I’m gay.”

“Oh, oh oh oh. Now that’s a good one,” Carlo chuckled. “You and another guy were making out, just two seconds away from having a banana party, and you still don’t know if you’re gay?”

“What I mean, Carlo, is how can you know for sure when you’re still a virgin? I’ve had a couple close calls, but nothing I can whisper about at the next slumber party.”

“I see your point. So what does your gay butler say?”

“Arthur said he’s glad the whole situation happened with a friend, and that everything will probably work out after some time has passed—which is just what I need to decide what my next step should be. And with who.”

“Well, the offer still stands, bud,” Carlo giggled, momentarily caressing Jeremy’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I’m not as Abercrombie as Coby, but some people have told me I have
some
attractive physical qualities. In an exotic south-of-the-border kind of way.”

Jeremy swallowed hard and returned his focus on piloting the Rover as it devoured the rushing pavement underneath. “Carlo, you…have lots of great physical qualities.”

“Like what?”

“Do I really have to tell you?”

“If you’re going to say again that we can’t screw each other, then yes. My ego needs pumping up.”

“You’re great-looking, and you have a very hot body. How’s that?”

“More, please.”

“No. I can’t think about you that way. I really need and appreciate your friendship more than anything.”

“Oh, I get it. The old ‘just friends’ routine.” Carlo laughed, remembering that if Jeremy had so adamantly refused to acknowledge his attraction to men, perhaps he was also in denial about the possibility of their being lovers someday. “I can see us when we’re ninety: ‘Oh, Jeremy Tyler? We’re still the best of pals, the greatest of
chums.
Yessiree! We made it our whole gay lives without even blowing each other.’”

“Where the hell did you get ‘chums’?”

“The
Hardy Boys
mysteries. Those were the books that first made me think I was gay, because I loved the way the ‘two handsome lads and their chums’ were always going on camping trips together, then they’d all be kidnapped and tied to each other by some mysterious older man. I read every book in the series by the end of sixth grade. But don’t change the subject.” He glared at Jeremy. “So what’re you going to do then, stay a virgin forever?”

“Hell no. But if I get involved, I want it to be with someone I don’t know yet—someone I won’t miss too much if I screw everything up.” He floored the accelerator to make a yellow light.

“Welcome to the world of anonymous gay sex,” Carlo noted, as they sped past a man changing a flat tire. “So, like, what type of guy do you see yourself with, for instance?”

“Well…” he hesitated “…there’s this one guy I see around school that I think is really cute.”

“Cute?”
Carlo mimicked. “Geez, I feel like I’m with my ten-year-old
prima.
Puppies are cute, Jeremy. Men are
hot.
”

“OK then.
Hot.
Really, really hot.”

“Who is it? Tell me, tell me!” He bounced up and down on the black leather seat.

“I think his name is Darius, or something weird like that,” he stated, peering at him from the corner of his eye.

“Black hair, boyishly gorgeous face, body of a porn god?”

“Yeah, that’s him.” Jeremy agreed, not ever having seen any pornography but getting the gist. “And he is so incredibly gorgeous.” He loved finally being able to share his secret crushes with another, even if it held the risk of sounding like a queer.

“Well, I have to say that for an amateur, you have great taste,” he stated. “But unfortunately for you
and the rest of us,
Darius is really, really straight.”

“But he’s one of the only other jocks at school that ever smiles at me and says hi, and we don’t even know each other,” Jeremy argued. “And I always see him with his arms around other guys and stuff.”

“That’s just his way. He’s from this huge Greek family up the highway; I mean, they probably all sleep in the same bed or something. They own those two gas stations up at the edge of town, before County Line…” his voice trailed off, sadly considering that if this was the type of boy Jeremy was interested in, then he really didn’t have a chance. “But don’t feel stupid,” he said, his voice suddenly bright. “Everyone’s in love with Darius. And he’s totally cool with us queer boys, even goes to gay bars sometimes.”

“Really?”
Queer boys.
The term ricocheted inside Jeremy’s brain.

“Yeah, he’s just such a great guy that he has friends everywhere.”

“And how do you know so much about him?”

“He dates my sister Carmen sometimes, and I know a lot about him because she tells me
everything.
And from her filthy descriptions, I can guarantee you that there’s no sugar in that boy’s tank.”

Jeremy slowed finally to stop at the back of the long line of cars waiting to turn into the student parking lot at the school. He craned his neck to look for any cars he recognized: Coby’s yellow Mustang GT, Reed’s silver Audi TT…“
Shit!
Isn’t that Ellie’s car up ahead, the navy-blue BMW with the white top?” He strained forward against the seat belt and squinted into the morning sunlight.

Carlo followed the line of sight. The car’s brake lights flashed, and then the door swung open.

“Yep, that’s her. So what?” he replied absently, his attention refocused on a gang of strutting jocks in baseball uniforms.

“I
really
don’t want to see her, not now at least. Do you think I can back up?” He glanced anxiously at his rearview mirror and saw the line of cars packed tightly up the road behind him.

“Dude,
are you nuts?
” Carlo laughed. “You’re gonna
have
to see her sometime. Anyhow, what’s she gonna do to you? Announce over the PA that you need volunteers for a term project you’re doing on dick size?”

“Oh, you know Ellie’s mouth,” he said sourly, guiding the vehicle ahead at a crawl. “I just feel so embarrassed by the whole thing, and she’ll just make me feel worse than I already do.”

“So what would she do if she’d been caught with someone’s boyfriend?”

“She’d say something like, ‘If you were more of a woman, he never would have gone looking for satisfaction somewhere else.’”

“That’s perfect!” Carlo giggled. “I
dare
you to tell her that.”

“You’re not helping.” Jeremy glowered, then sighed. “I guess you’re right. I’ll just have to face her. I just feel like I’ve lost three really good friends all at once.”

“Well, I’m glad, ’cause the whole situation finally left some room for me,” Carlo said, beaming. “You were pretty heavy with those three ever since Halloween, and don’t think I didn’t get bummed when I heard the four of you were going to the mountains together.”

“And you wouldn’t have minded being a fifth wheel?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I guess we’ll never know. Look, the line’s moving, and it looks like there’s a space two over from Ellie.” Carlo pointed. “Now’s your chance.”

Jeremy sucked in a breath, stepped on the gas, and wheeled the big black vehicle close to her car. She was already leaning against her rear bumper, stuffing textbooks from her trunk into her orange leather backpack. When she glanced up and recognized them, a flash of indignity washed over her usually unreadable features. He smiled back apologetically, shut off the engine, grabbed his book bag from the backseat, and leaned out of the car.

“Hey, Ellie.”

She swept her head backward and to the side, making platinum locks fly over one shoulder. “Oh, is today Ballena Beach’s gay pride celebration? Too bad I left all of my rainbow crap at home,” she remarked, her double-barreled eyes loaded and aimed.

“I always thought fag jokes were beneath you. Guess I was wrong,” Carlo said primly. “See you at break, Jeremy.” He waved sweetly, then sauntered across the crowded parking lot toward the red brick science building, his backpack swung over one shoulder.

“‘Fag jokes’ is redundant,” Ellie shouted.

Carlo continued walking and flipped her off. “So’s rich bitch,” he yelled, without turning around.

Jeremy stood, hands in pockets, while she checked her reflection in the windows of the BMW, minutely fussing at her hair and tank top.

“Ellie, I’m really sorry about…what happened.”

“Yeah, well you should be, but not about what you think.” She dug in her backpack and withdrew a lipstick, then bent over the sideview mirror on the passenger door.

Objects are closer than they appear.

“What do you mean?” he asked, studying her as she circled her mouth with the rosy substance.

“I mean that you probably think I’m pissed about Coby, but the truth is I couldn’t care less.” She puckered her lips and made a tiny kissing noise at her reflection.

“Then what is it?”

“What is it?” She jerked up and spun to face him, squinting nastily. “It’s Reed, you retard! You should’ve been honest with her. She thought you were The One.”

“Yeah, I know. I feel horrible about her more than anything. But El, please understand that I wasn’t trying to lie to her,” he insisted. “And I really hoped she was going to be The One too, at least until it started happening with him, with Coby that night. The only person I ever lied to was me, and if I could only get her to talk to me for two seconds, I could try to make her understand.” He saw once again the devastation on Reed’s face from that morning, then blinked hard and refocused on Ellie and noticed that she looked suddenly calmer, more herself. “And Ellie, please know that I have a really hard time believing you don’t care about what happened with me and him.”

“Well believe it,” she stated.

“How is that?”

“Didn’t you hear
anything
I said when we were up at the chalet having our little heart-to-heart?” She addressed him slowly, as if he were the stupidest boy on earth. “See if this rings a bell, Jeremy: ‘Coby wants whatever he thinks he can’t have’ and ‘Coby’s ego hunts for sport.’ Do you remember now?”

He nodded simply.

“Listen. My soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend is a genuine, 100 percent authentic, beyond-any-doubt sociopath.”

“I guess I don’t know what that is.”

“Technically, it’s known as antisocial personality disorder, but that sounds too, I don’t know,
sterile.
” She reached out and took his hand. “A sociopath is someone who is incapable of feeling any real love or attachment or empathy for others. Like a predatory animal, they smell your weaknesses, then use them to get what they want for themselves. And they do this in the most convincing and charming way. Coby hunts for sex the way cats hunt mice, partly out of hunger but mostly for sport. And you fell for it, the whole fucking routine. Ha!”

Jeremy noticed how her eyes sparkled when she spoke of him. “You mean the whole thing was an act just to see if he could get me into bed?”

“It probably wasn’t an act as much as it was a game. I’m sure he really did want to get off that night; God knows he wasn’t going to with me. He just figured you were a horny virgin closet case,
which you are,
and it just made it that much more fun to have Reed and me upstairs at the same time. Like I said, partly hunger, mostly sport, as in
the Olympics.
But take it as a sort of sick compliment, Jeremy. He only pursues A-list people.”

“I’m not A-list,” he muttered.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head slowly. “You need to lose that ‘I’m Nothing Special’ routine,” she snapped. “It’s a real turnoff.”

They stood together in silence, while Jeremy wondered if he should ask the question she already knew was coming. “Then how come you stay with him—” he blurted finally “—if you really think he’s this sick manipulative guy, this
sociopath
?”