Marie Sexton - Coda 02 - A to Z (9 page)

Still, I say, “Not really my scene, you know.”
“I know. But you’re coming anyway, right?”

He really wants me with him. In the end, that’s what decides it for me. No way I could deny him anything at that moment. “Yeah, Zach,” I say, and his smile gets even bigger. “I’m comin’ anyway.”

Zach…

I
NEVER
figured out what was wrong with Angelo, but in the end, I figured it wasn’t any of my business. If he wanted me to know, he would tell me. I was just glad that he had worked it out. He was back to his normal self by the next day, and by the time we left for Folk Fest on Friday, he was absolutely giddy.

Lyons, Colorado was a beautiful little gem of a town nestled right down in the green roots of the Rocky Mountains. It’s sometimes called the double gateway to the Rockies. Originally its economy was based on sandstone quarries, but more recently, it has turned toward tourism.

Planet Bluegrass is a natural amphitheater on the west end of town, sitting between the St. Vrain River and the mountains. There are two stages, and during the Rocky Mountain Folk Festival, there’s music playing on both from ten in the morning until ten at night. The festival also boasts beer brewed by one of Colorado’s top microbreweries and some of the best food I’ve ever tasted. The atmosphere is family friendly. Kids run in packs like they were meant to and build sandcastles by the river. They can also tube down the river and ride back to the festival on a shuttle bus.

The campground was a riot of colors. Tents, campers, and popup shade shelters were staked out so close to one another that it was hard to find a path through them. To look at some of the campsites, you would have thought people were staying for a month, rather than just a weekend. They had hung flags and banners and wind kites, and some of them even had rugs. Song circles and drum circles and just plain drinking circles abounded in the campground until the wee hours of the morning.

Angelo didn’t actually own any camping gear of any kind. I thought that was odd for somebody who lived in Colorado, but I didn’t say anything. He bought a bag but decided to share my tent. We finally found a place in the crowded campground and set up our camp.

I didn’t know if it was the type of music or just festivals, but I swear there were almost as many lesbian couples as het couples. Gay couples were harder to find, but they were around too. The atmosphere was friendly and open. Angelo stared around for a long time in shock. I could see him, watching all those same-sex couples who were holding hands, kissing, not doing anything to hide. Eventually he looked over at me and said, “I never been anywhere except clubs that it felt okay to be queer.” I just laughed. He relaxed a lot after that.

The viewing area for the main stage was carefully sectioned. Near the front, people spread blankets or tarps on the grass, and only chairs that sat practically on the ground were allowed. A little farther back, it was still blankets and tarps, but regular chairs were allowed too. And behind that was the area for shade tents. The crowds weren’t large yet, and we were able to spread my blanket near the trees on the west side so that we would be in the shade later in the day. I had the one low-back chair I owned, bought years ago at a flea market specifically for this one weekend each and every year. I felt bad that I didn’t have one for Angelo and hadn’t thought to tell him to bring one. He just smiled and said, “I can nap easier on the ground anyway.”

We bought beer, then pot stickers—chicken-basil for me and curry for him. I think his eyes actually rolled back in his head when he tasted them. I laughed. “What do you think?”

“Worth comin’ here just for this,” he said. He blushed but still looked at me when he said, “Thanks for bringin’ me, Zach.”

All I could think about was how much different it would have been with Tom. I knew instinctively he would have been complaining about everything from how hot it was to how much the beer cost. It felt great to be with Angelo instead. “I’m glad you came.”

…Angelo
D
ON
’
T
get much rest that first night in Lyons. It’s strange sleepin’

so close to Zach, hearin’ him breathin’ next to me. Feels intimate in a way I never felt before with anyone. I spend half the night wantin’ to touch him and the other half worried that I will. He’s oblivious, like always. He sleeps like a fuckin’ baby.

Most people at Folk Fest stay up late and then sleep in. Place is dead when I get up at six. Zach’s sacked out next to me, sprawled on his back and takin’ up half the tent. I leave him sleepin’ and head for the shower. It’s an open, locker-room-type shower, with four nozzles. Zach warned me there would be a line later in the mornin’. I want to beat the rush.

There’s one other guy in the shower with me. Great big guy, at least half a foot taller than me. Short dark hair and a body to die for. Drop-dead gorgeous and probably straight as a ruler. I try not to stare.

“Nice to beat the crowd,” he says.
“Yeah.”

As we’re gettin’ dressed, I ask, “Know where I could find coffee ’round here?”

 

“I do. I’m headed there now.” He holds his hand out to me. “I’m Matt.”

 

Not sure why he’s introducin’ himself, but I shake his hand and say, “Angelo.”

 

“Follow me, Angelo. I’ll lead you to the best coffee in Lyons.”

Hadn’t really intended to go anywhere with him, but what the hell? He’s sort of a big jock type, but I don’t get that bad vibe off him at all. He leads me down the street to a coffee shop—locally owned too. Not one of those big chains. We take our coffee and sit at one of the tables outside.

“Is this your first time here?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“Mine too. Are you here alone?”
“No. Friend’s still sleepin’.”

“Mine too.” He crinkles his eyes at me, like he might laugh but isn’t quite sure how. “What do you think so far?”

 

“Food’s good.”

 

This time he really does laugh and says, “But the music sucks.”

 

That makes me smile. “Not what I normally listen to.”

We make small talk for an hour, mostly comparin’ which food vendors we’d tried so far—he liked the gyros better than the curry— and which bands we thought were tolerable. Then we end up orderin’ breakfast. Finally he says, “I should head back. Jared might actually be awake by now, and I promised him coffee.”

That seems like a nice thing to do, so I get a cup to take back to Zach too.

“We should sit together,” he says as we walk back. I can’t think of a reason to say no. Still, I’m a little nervous ’bout it. Always a little worried what’s gonna happen when somebody finds out I’m queer. Never sure if I’m supposed to pretend not to be or just not worry ’bout it.

We stop by and round up Zach. He’s just gettin’ up and is thrilled ’bout the coffee. Matt leads us down to where his friend has a blanket, ’bout halfway up to the stage.

Jared is Zach’s age. About five-ten, thin and wiry, but his legs are muscular. Wild, dark blond curls hangin’ all ’round his face. Blue eyes. Freckles across his nose. Reminds me of a surfer, ’cept of course we’re a hell of a long way from any waves. Cute as hell. And definitely queer.

Matt sits next to him, hands him his coffee. I know I’m starin’. Tryin’ to think of a nice way to ask if they’re together. Never even imagined that Matt was queer, but now that I look, I can see he’s definitely sittin’ a little closer to Jared than any straight guy would. Must be been written over my face what I’m thinkin’, ’cause Jared suddenly smiles at me and says, “Nobody can ever tell with him.” Matt just rolls his eyes.

Zach and Jared are immediately like best fuckin’ buddies. They gab for ages ’bout the other festivals they been to and the bands they know from previous years. Matt smiles at me. “See, this is going to work out well. They can listen to the music, and we can get drunk and nap.”

They live in a small mountain town, less than an hour away. Matt’s a cop. Of course. Might as well have it tattooed ’cross his fuckin’ forehead. It seems so obvious. Jared’s a teacher. I can tell Zach’s a little bit jealous of their relationship, ’cause it’s clear as day they’re crazy ’bout each other. Still, Matt doesn’t seem the type. He and Jared keep razzin’ each other ’bout football, of all things. “You’re the straightest queer I ever met,” I say to him, before I realize I’m goin’ to.

He just shrugs, and Jared laughs. “It’s true Matt once suffered from a severe case of heterosexuality.”

 

I can’t help but laugh too. “Really? Didn’t know there was cure for that.”

“I wasn’t so sure myself, but apparently there is.” He turns and looks at Matt. “What was it, anyway?”
“Jealousy.”
Jared’s eyebrows go up. “Really?”

Matt reaches over and grabs a handful of Jared’s hair, then leans over to touch his lips to Jared’s neck, just below his ear. First time I seen him touch Jared at all, and now he’s practically kissin’ his neck, right in the middle of all those people.

“I saw him touching you just like this,” he says, “and I knew right then that I never wanted another man to touch you like that again.” He kisses him then and says, “Nobody but me.”

Jared’s face is red with embarrassment, but he’s pleased too. “Cole never pulled my hair,” he says teasingly.

 

Matt laughs and lets go of him. “I knew there was something wrong with that guy.”

It works out just like Matt said. Zach and Jared spend the whole day plannin’ which bands to watch, goin’ back and forth between the two stages, comparin’ who they like and who they don’t. Matt reads a lot, and I doze in the sun. When one of us gets too bored, we wander ’round the festival together a while, then take food and beer back for Zach and Jared.

Once, as we’re walkin’ ’round, I finally ask him the question I been dyin’ to ask. “You were straight before Jared?”

 

His cheeks turn red, but he says, “Yes. Or at least, trying very hard to be.”

 

“You really caught him with another guy? Let me guess—an ex-boyfriend?”

He raises one eyebrow at me, and his mouth almost twitches into a smile. “Not exactly. Cole wasn’t an ex. More of a friend with benefits. A couple of months before that, on Jared’s birthday, of all days, I had a few beers and I came on to him. I didn’t really mean to. I know how stupid that sounds, but….” He shrugs. “Anyway, afterward, I freaked out and left. I didn’t see him for a while. But then I realized how much I missed him, so I went to see him. I was planning to give him this big let’s-just-be-friends speech.”

“But this guy, Cole, was there?”
“Right.”
“So what happened?”

“Nothing, really. Cole let me in. He was actually flirting with me. And Jared came out of the bathroom, all wet from the shower, wearing nothing but a pair of sweat pants. And all I could think about was what had been going on
before
I knocked on the door. And I wanted to kill them both. And I mean, really.” He smiles a little and looks at me in embarrassment. “I wanted to beat the shit out of Cole, who’s about your size. He probably weighs one-thirty with his boots on. And his boots are probably pink.” I laugh at that, and he does, too, a little, before goin’ on. “But I also knew I had no reason to be so pissed. And that really made me stop and think, you know? I realized that Jared and I could be ‘just friends’, but then he would have other lovers, and I wouldn’t be able to say a thing about it. And
that
just about sent me over the edge. Jealousy is a powerful thing, Angelo.”

We get back to the blanket where Zach and Jared are and sit down. Zach looks over at Matt and says, “Jared said you hate it here.”

Matt raises one eyebrow at him and says lightly, “Not all of it.”

 

“What parts do you like?” Zach asks.

 

“The food’s good,” he says, glancing at Jared, “and the nighttime entertainment.”

 

’Course Zach is one step behind. “You mean you like the headliners?” he asks.

 

Matt looks over at him, crinkling his eyes at him like maybe he’s gonna laugh. “No, that’s not what I mean.”

 

I’m laughin’ my ass off, and I’m not sure who blushes more, Jared or Zach.

That night Matt and I leave Jared and Zach at the show while we walk into town to eat. Food at the festival’s good, but it gets old sittin’ on the ground all the time. We end up talkin’ ’bout all kinds of things while we eat, and before I know it, I’m tellin’ him ’bout my parents. Somethin’ I hate to talk ’bout, and now I’ve told two people in one summer.

Matt surprises me, though. He doesn’t give me that look I hate seein’ so much. He just shakes his head and says, “Some people shouldn’t be parents.” I can tell by the way he says it that he’s not just talkin’ ’bout mine. Somehow, after that, I know we’re gonna be friends. Not just hangin’-out-together kind of friends but really, truly understandin’ each other. It’s a new feelin’ for me. Even Zach doesn’t quite get it. Not like that.

We spend Sunday with them too. That afternoon, Matt and Zach start talkin’ ’bout A to Z. “It’s doomed, really,” Zach says. “Little stores like mine are being driven out of business by the big corporations. There’s one on every corner.”

“Not on ours,” Matt says. “We don’t have a movie rental place in Coda.”

“Really?”
“Really. I wish we did.”
“Maybe I should move there,” Zach says jokingly.

“Maybe you should,” Matt says back, not quite jokin’. “We even have a location for you.”

 

He looks at Jared, and Jared nods. “That’s true. My family used to own a hardware store. It’s closed now. But we still have the building. It’s just sitting there.”

 

Zach just laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
Zach…

I
T WAS
great spending the weekend with Jared and Matt. Jared and I had a lot in common. We were about the same age and had both grown up in Colorado. Both came out in college and were lucky enough to have families who took it well. We were also both surprised at the sudden easy friendship between Matt and Angelo. It was like Matt had just been waiting to adopt a little brother, and Ang was the lucky winner. I wouldn’t have expected Angelo to so readily fill the role. Still, it seemed to work for both of them, and I knew they both had more fun at the festival than they would have otherwise.