Our December (3 page)

Like a Rock

"He's solid."

"Solid?"

"Yeah, like a rock or something."

Jared leaned against a tree, staring out over the lake. On the other side of the foliage, Alex chatted with Clark. They didn't see him and it seemed like the smart thing would be to stay quiet and let them move on when they were ready. By the time Jared realized they were talking about him, it was too late to reveal himself. He shifted position so he could see them through the leaves. Alex sat on a bench, facing the water. He leaned forward, his forearms braced on his thighs with his dark head bent over his hands. He turned something over in his fingers, but Jared couldn't see what it was.

"A rock?" Clark sat beside him, arms stretched along the back of the bench, watching the ducks and the scantily clad girls go by. "I didn't think he looked all that strong… not that I was looking or anything." Alex cut a look at him then returned his attention to whatever he had in his hands. Jared bit back a laugh.

"I didn't mean that, but I saw him without his shirt when we went to the gym." Alex said, "He's built, not like a rock… more like… I don't know. He's perfect. He's got freckles on his shoulders, not a lot, just scattered across. Cause he's a redhead, I guess."

Jared's face burned as he listened to the boy struggle to describe his body. Clark frowned, looking away from a particularly bouncy blonde to look at Alex.

"He doesn't have red hair."

It was a statement, not a question, but the protest didn't surprise Jared. His hair was so dark that unless the light was exactly right almost no one noticed the auburn. Alex turned to look at Clark; his curls caressed his collar, making Jared's fingers itch.

"It doesn't look red because it's so dark, but in the sun… oh my God." Alex paused before he spoke again. "He's got freckles on his nose too. And he's young, a lot younger than I thought." He turned his attention back to his fingers and Clark went back to duck watching.

"Oh, I thought it was brown," he said, and then with more interest, "How young?" Alex's fingers stopped moving.

"Not young enough, he won't touch me." His voice became pained, but colored with understanding. "We're friends though, I think."

There was silence between them for a while then Clark picked up the thread of conversation once more.

"I still don't get why he's a rock."

"His nature," Alex told him quietly. "He means what he says, you know? And he's got… I don't know what to call it… but if he thinks something is wrong, he won't do it. Sucks sometimes, but hardly anyone is like that. I can believe what he says."

He grinned, and even in profile, he took Jared's breath away.

"Bet I could make him like a rock somewhere else if he gave me half a chance." Alex laughed and tossed his hair out of his face.

"That's way too much information." Clark said. They stood to leave, "I really don't want to know the details." Alex dropped whatever was in his hand and slung his arm around his friend's shoulders. Jared was surprised when Clark didn't shrug him away.

"I'll remember that the next time you want me to look at some chick's fake tits," Alex said.

"That's the weirdest part of this whole gay thing," Clark said. "You really don't like tits?" They were far enough away Jared couldn't hear Alex's reply, but the boys' laughter carried back to him.

Jared walked over to where they had been sitting. There, on the ground, was a smooth, dark stone. He picked it up, turning it over in his fingers; it was still warm from Alex's hand. Alex liked Jared's freckles and his hair. Jared stared at the rock, remembering what Alex said about him. Probably the first time anyone ever said he had a perfect body, and the idea made him laugh. Alex needed to get out more. But Jared would never forget that what Alex liked most about him was something he didn't even have a word for. Integrity. Without a doubt the best compliment Jared had ever received. He dropped the rock into his pocket and continued his run.

Decision

A co-worker stopped by the office to tell Alex's dad that he saw Alex out a couple times with a guy he didn't recognize. Once at the bowling alley, when he was practicing for his league, and a second time in line at the theater, when he dropped his son off with some friends.

"They weren't doing anything wrong," Bill assured him, "at least, nothing I saw. You know there weren't any signs of drinking or drugs, nothing like that, but…" he hesitated, at a loss for words, and his silence stirred a fear in Frank's heart, a fear he'd been struggling with for a couple years. He was sure Alex identified as gay. Frank understood Bill's carefully worded warning, but also resented it. He struggled with his emotions in an effort to maintain control. Bill shrugged in the midst of the silence, looking uncomfortable.

"I thought you should know," he said, and after a few polite exchanges about work and the well-being of their families, he made an excuse to escape. Frank had a difficult time finishing the day. Bill's assurances that he didn't notice anything wrong rang false. The previous summer Frank tried talking to Alex about his orientation, but Alex closed up tighter than a clam, shrugging him off. His grades were down, and now Frank thought he knew why. The only question that remained was what he was going to do about it.

Alex wasn't old enough to drive, walking almost everywhere he went. He called out where he was going then headed out the door and down the road to town. That weekend, when Alex headed for the bowling alley, Frank waited a few minutes then followed him. He parked in the bowling alley lot where he could see the door but Alex wouldn't likely spot the car. It wasn't long before Alex appeared. He walked up singing and reached in his pocket to turn off his iPod as he glanced around. He grinned and tossed his apple core into the trash before heading into the building. Frank wondered which car Alex had searched for but none of them volunteered any information; nothing beyond a
"trust Jesus now"
bumper sticker on the trunk of a yellow Toyota and a rainbow peace sign in the side window of a Volkswagen Bug.

Frank hesitated before going inside; he disliked spying on his son. Alex had never given him reason to distrust him, but Frank was determined to keep him safe. His mind made up, he went in. It was busy and loud, with a snack bar at one end and full service, café style restaurant at the other. Rows of video games lined the walls, college students gathered around each one. Standing between the other activities and the bowling lanes were rows of wooden stands filled with balls. Frank remembered bowling balls being black, and a lot of them were, but the entire spectrum of the rainbow was evident as well. Frank frowned; he really didn't want to think about rainbows at that moment.

Frank kept a sharp look out as he wound through the crowd, finally spotting Alex at a set of lanes on the end near the snack bar. He and Clark were putting on their shoes. Frank smiled at the sight of his son wearing borrowed shoes. He wasn't sure he'd believe it if he hadn't seen it. Alex was weird about other people's sweat.

Frank found a seat at the snack bar and ordered a soda. The boys were more interested in scanning the crowd than getting ready to bowl. Then Clark elbowed Alex, nodding towards the front. Frank turned on his stool, following their line of sight. He expected to see a young lady with nice… assets. Clark had a reputation, around their house, for his great appreciation for a girl with curves. What Frank saw was a young man with longish brown hair. He looked just a few years older than the boys were, but it was enough. He was a man, while they still clung to the edges of childhood, and Frank's guard went up. Every instinct demanded that he get Alex out of there, but it was an unreasonable impulse, and he squelched it.

Frank remembered what it was like to be young, and how he and his friends liked hanging out with the older boys in an effort to meet girls. He relaxed a little, imagining a new motivation behind Alex's friendship with the young man. Clark being there helped put things in better perspective. Frank considered leaving but didn't, enjoying this peek into his very private son's social life. The young man sat next to Alex and changed his shoes. He made a face, and they shared a joke, clearly at the expense of the horrendous shoes. The newcomer was attractive and seemed friendly, and the boys were comfortable with him. The three had a good-natured argument over who would bowl first, looking like none of them wanted to do it. Finally, the oldest shrugged and got to his feet. Once he started, it was obvious he didn't know how to bowl. In fact, by the time they all took a turn, it looked like none of them had a clue what they were doing, but they were having fun, and Frank supposed that was the point.

They were into the second game before it sank in for Frank that for Alex, fun wasn't the only point. For Clark, it was about the girls and he scanned for them continually. When he saw one worthy of notice, he'd drag Alex's attention to her. Alex looked and made some remark that satisfied Clark, but his eyes always returned to the young man with them. He watched the other man constantly. Once, when the guy took his turn, Alex leaned and whispered something to Clark. Clark turned to look then made a face. He knocked his shoulder against Alex's, affectionately, but didn't agree with what Alex said. He shrugged and went back to watching.

Bill was right, the boys did nothing wrong, not a single touch passed between Alex and the other man, and yet, it was impossible to deny what was there. The attraction between them reflected in their body language, in their expressions, but was revealed most clearly by the way they never touched. Dead giveaway. Alex and Clark touched constantly; they roughhoused, gave noogies, touched fists, and knocked shoulders. Touching was natural and right between them. They'd been best friends almost since diapers, but this new friend, the one Frank's son couldn't keep his eyes off, never made contact, not even a high five when he finally knocked over a few pins.

The younger boys approached the snack bar to get a drink and Frank hunched over his soda, feeling like a traitor. Before this, he thought if he ever found out what he suspected about Alex was true, it'd make him angry. Instead, his heart ached. His son was a stranger, and he didn't know what to do about it. Frank could easily see the hardship ahead for Alex if he continued in the direction he was going. Frank didn't want that for him. Not exactly the life he imagined for his brilliant boy.

Frank didn't know anything about being gay. He wanted to help Alex. Not anything like sending him off to some psycho place to de-gay him, but get him away, make sure he understood his options. Clark's voice pulled Frank from the dismal pit of his thoughts.

"I thought he liked you," Clark complained, waiting for their fries too cook. Alex glanced around furtively.

"Shhh, what if someone hears?" he muttered, turning slightly towards Clark muffling his next words, but Frank could make them out, "I told you, he won't touch me. The first rule, because he says I'm too young." Alex's irritation was obvious, but so was his admiration. "He promised himself. Jared always keeps his promises. Because he's got integrity." Alex thanked the girl behind the counter for his food and drink, oblivious when she tried to flirt with him.

They gathered their food and headed back to the lanes.

Frank bit back a smile. He didn't have to see the eye roll accompanying Alex's tone. He'd been on the receiving end often enough.

"He says I have to have it too. It's especially important for gay men to mean what they say." Alex drank some of his soda; they were almost out of earshot. "We have a lot of fun, but sometimes, I think he's teaching me everything I didn't want to know about being gay. I mean, geez, how 'bout some sex, you know?"

Clark nodded with abject sympathy. Frank stared thoughtfully into his soda. He didn't want to hear his son talking about sex, but obviously every boy wanted it, regardless of orientation. Frank took a long drink of his Coke, wishing there was some rum in it, maybe a lot of rum. He turned back to watch his son.

When the boys got back to the lanes they settled the food, and Alex handed the guy, Jared, his name was Jared, the cup he'd been drinking from. Still no touching, but Jared's gaze held Alex's when he took the cup and drank from the same straw. Frank left. The only other option was to make a scene and that would get him nowhere.

Jared seemed like a good guy. He was being careful of Frank's boy. Things could be much worse, but Frank still worried. Alex was too young to make the kind of life altering decision Frank saw in Alex's expression when he looked at Jared. If Alex was really gay, Frank knew he couldn't change that, but he could give Alex something the boy didn't know he needed.

Time.

Frank intended to give Alex that time, even if his son hated him for it.

Introspection

Jared dropped into the booth across from Alex. The small restaurant attached to the bowling alley was busy. The confusion made the table where they sat an oasis of calm. The shouts, laughter, and chatter assured their privacy. Alex pushed his basket of fries toward the center of the table in silent invitation. Jared grabbed a handful and settled back.

"So what's going on with you?" He asked with a grin before starting on the fries. Alex shrugged, eating another fry, one elbow on the table, chin propped in the heel of his hand. He didn't meet Jared's eyes, a sure sign something was wrong.

"I don't know, it's stupid. I'm stupid, life's stupid." He looked up. "Everything's stupid but you,"

Jared struggled to hold back a laugh. He picked up his Coke, taking a drink.

"Dude, I just meant, how are you," Jared said, and Alex blushed. He remained slumped over his snack, shaking his head.

"Sorry," he muttered. Jared turned to lean against the wall, stretching his long legs along the bench. He ate a fry while studying Alex's unusually downcast appearance.

"Why are you stupid?" Jared asked.

If anything, the question made the boy worse, hunching his shoulders, and staring miserably into his chocolate shake.

"It's just, IkeephavingdreamsaboutClark," he said in such a rush that Jared had to take a second to sort out the words. Upon figuring it out, it was another struggle to keep his amusement contained.

"Maybe you are secretly in love with him," Jared suggested. The look on Alex's face was priceless.

"If you can't say something useful then shut up," he muttered, "we all know I'm in love with…"

"…the idea of getting laid." Interrupting Alex before any harm was done; Jared sat up, his feet hitting the floor. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. Alex snorted his disgust at Jared's obvious diversionary tactic but let it go.

"Yeah, that's it, because Clark's so hot he's irresistible to all humankind," Alex said. Clark chose that minute to plop down beside Alex.

"Well that's not news," Clark said, grabbing a handful of fries, uninvited, from the quickly diminishing supply. He shoved them into his mouth and reached for Alex's shake. "Do you think I should be nervous? What with my fag friends talking about how hot I am and all." Alex shoved Clark so hard he almost fell off the end of the booth. Clark burst out laughing, raising his hands in surrender.

"Kidding man, kidding!" He choked on his fries, and Alex pounded his back in an effort to keep him from dying. Eyes watering, Clark gulped down half of Alex's milkshake.

When he could breathe again, he settled back in the booth. "What are we talking about?"

Alex shot a pleading look in Jared's direction. Jared gave up his efforts at restraint and laughed at them.

"We were trying to decide who the hottest straight guy we know is, and your name may have come up." Jared winked at him and Clark blushed.

"Cut it out," he muttered, ducking his head, "so did Al tell you the news?" Clark changed the subject and Alex looked horrified.

"Clark, shut up!" he exclaimed, shoving the fry basket in front of him, "eat or something." Clark looked between Jared and Alex, his expression smug.

"You haven't told him!" exclaimed Clark, with nothing short of glee. "OW!" He almost hit his head on the table grabbing his leg. "You don't have to kick me."

"Punching isn't polite," Alex glared.

Clark chuckled into his pilfered food, not looking at all sorry.

"Told me what?" Jared asked. Every so often, it was obvious his new friends were fifteen, or less, like maybe two. Alex stared at the stained laminate tabletop.

Clark glanced at him and shrugged. "Not that big a deal," he said. His shoulder bumped Alex's. "Dude says he's not sure if he's gay. Crazy talk, he's the biggest faggot I know. Almost." His eyes met Jared's eyes, sparkling with mischief and waiting to see if Jared would take the bait. Jared ignored him. Alex shook his head, hunching his shoulders in a failed effort at hiding.

"Let's go," Jared said. The boys stared at him.

"Where?" Clark asked around the fries he was stuffing in his mouth, alarmed he might not get to finish.

"For a walk," Jared said, reaching to rough Alex's hair, "no big deal."

Clark scooped the remaining fries in one hand, grabbing the shake with his other. He followed Jared. Alex joined them, lagging behind and looking unhappy. Once out of the noisy chaos of the bowling alley, Jared led them to his truck.

"That'll be riding." Clark pointed out, washing the final fries down with the last slurp of the shake.

"Clark, just shut up," Alex begged, looking less upset than before, aiming a kick at Clark's ankle. Ready for the much-played game, Clark sidestepped, while pretending not to notice Alex's attempt at violence. Jared retrieved a Frisbee from under the seat.

"Walking," he assured Clark, leading them towards the park. It was a fifteen-minute walk, and the younger guys cut up all the way, bouncing off each other and tormenting Jared. The park spread out in front of them with jogging trails cut through the lush green grass and strategically placed groups of trees. The centerpiece of the park was the small lake inhabited by ducks, frogs, and fish. Toddlers fished for minnows. Joggers ignored the world, and small clusters of people walked and talked together. The young outnumbered the old, two to one. The population of the college kept the town alive; the young people its lifeblood. Clark took off, cutting across grass and jogging paths.

"Hit me!" he yelled, turning to run backwards, hands up for the Frisbee.

"I wish," muttered Alex.

Jared laughed, throwing the blue disk in Clark's direction. The teen jumped as it passed just over his fingers.

"That sucked," he called over his shoulder, running after the disk. Jared shrugged.

"Never said I was good," he yelled back. Alex fell into step beside Jared. Their shoulders brushed and Alex tensed but Jared didn't move away. The Frisbee sailed back at them, and Jared let Alex chase it. He wondered what Clark meant by his little comment about Alex. He hadn't sensed any hesitation in Alex over his sexual identity. Jared thought the boy had more confidence than Jared had at that age. Jared was thankful for the supportive parents who'd seen him through crisis after crisis as he tried to figure out who he was. He didn't think Alex was struggling that way, but maybe he was wrong. They had almost closed the distance to Clark; Jared snagged the Frisbee out of the air, and sent it flying. Clark took off after it, throwing a glance back at Jared that said he knew what was up; his full out run slowing to a trot and then a walk.

Jared led Alex to a nearby bench. The same one Clark and Alex sat on the morning he accidently eavesdropped on them. Jared put a hand in his pocket, separating the smooth stone from his change and rubbing it. He didn't want to disappoint Alex. Somehow, he let the boy set him on a pedestal so high he had trouble keeping his balance.

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. Alex leaned forward, staring at the ground. He gave a half shrug.

"Not really, stupid dreams about Clark. And…" Alex shifted uncomfortably and Jared waited patiently beside him. Clark ran up with the Frisbee, dropping it at Jared's feet.

"I'm gonna get some duck food, I'll be back," Clark announced to the air in general and disappeared. Jared shook his head; for an oblivious buffoon, Clark could pick up on a clue when he felt like it.

"He's a good friend," Alex muttered, staring after Clark, watching him run towards the vendor's cart where a guy sold everything from peanuts to duck chow.

"He is, so why don't you take this chance to tell me what else you've been dreaming about," Jared encouraged. Alex sank back onto the bench with a sigh.

"Girls," he confessed. "I keep dreaming about Clark and girls. I'm afraid to go to sleep. Clark's bad enough, but girls? That part happens when I'm awake too. It's just, I don't get it. Maybe I'm not gay."

Jared ran a hand through his hair. It was the stereotypical pitfall of boys, both gay and straight. See a guy, get turned on, and it's "Oh my God, I'm gay." See a girl, get turned on, and it's "Oh my God, I'm straight."

"It's not that easy, you know," Jared said, settling back on the bench, "You can't really determine your sexuality by who you have sex with."

Alex looked at him, mouth opening in protest.

Jared held up a hand, forestalling what he was going to say. "Yeah, yeah, or who you think you want to do it with. Truth is, if a guy lets his little head take charge, he'll screw anything, especially when he's fifteen."

Alex rubbed his palms along his thighs. "I don't get it, I thought guy on guy sex was being gay," he said.

Jared thought for a minute. "Ok, take those idiots online, posting videos. Not that you've ever seen them, being so innocent and all. But there are guys screwing watermelons, to name a tame item. So what does that say about their sexual orientation?"

"That they are some kinda losers," Clark dropped beside Jared on the bench, edging him closer to Alex. Clark sprawled beside them, digging into his bag of duck chow. "I told him he's still gay, but he's confused. Don't know why. The only person he really wants to fuck is…"

Alex leaned past Jared and punched Clark hard in the leg.

"How many times do I have to tell you to shut it?" Alex flopped back against the bench, and Clark shut it, tossing a handful of feed to the ducks.

"Well, Clark's right, they probably are losers, but useful at the moment because they prove my point. Little head is so eager to do his thing that he messes with big head. Guys do stupid stuff, like drill holes in watermelons, or screw the stuffing in a turkey." He had more to say, but Clark stared at him in horror.

"Dude, did he eat it?" Clark sounded so aghast that Jared had to laugh.

"Served it to guests, I believe." Jared teased. Clark gagged, and Alex looked a bit pale around the gills.

"That is sort of nasty," Alex said. "Why would a guy wake up and say, "I think I'll screw the turkey today?"

"Ah, yeah, that's my point, I doubt he got up and said that. I think it's more like, 'Dude, that turkey is warm and that stuffing is soft. I wonder how it'd feel if I… ahhhhh'." Jared tried to say it with a straight face, but with teenage boys groaning, howling, and falling off the edge of the bench, it proved impossible. The ducks were very interested in Clark rolling around, losing duck chow everywhere, and when he finally came to a stop one perched on his butt. He lay on his stomach staring up at Jared.

"We did not need a blow by blow description," he said.

"Blow!" Alex yelled, and they both lost it again.

Jared sat on the bench, looking over the pond while they rolled around his feet.

"So what's wrong with me?" Alex sat up, crossing his legs Indian style.

"Where to start," Jared muttered, and Alex glared.

Clark barked another laugh.

"Alex, you have to stop judging yourself by the standards of society. Try pretending being gay is the same as being straight. Because it is, you know. Only society makes a difference between them, but you have to learn to accept yourself. Stop worrying about 'what' you are. Straight guys never think about it. You have to believe that being gay is normal. Really believe it, and you'll be fine." Jared met Alex's eyes, trying not to get lost in the incredible rich color. He couldn't afford that. "Society says if you have intercourse with men, and you are a man, then you're gay. That's flawed logic. If guys can screw watermelons and turkeys, then gay guys can do girls and straight ones can make it with guys. It's what's going on in your head that defines your orientation." Jared leaned forward. "Where do you see yourself in ten years, Alex? When you fantasize about your future, who are you with? Those things, more than anything else, reveal your orientation."

Alex looked at Jared, his eyes thoughtful. Clark grabbed for the Frisbee and jumped up, shedding duck chow and ducks. Alex got to his feet, dusting off his jeans.

"In ten years, I'll be a graduate of MIT. I'll have my degree in architecture, and I'll be partners with the best contractor in the business." His eyes glinted with mischief, and something more, something a little darker and a whole lot more dangerous. He held Jared's gaze. "And I'll wake up every morning next to you."

Clark winked. "Told you he was still gay." They took off across the grass.

Clark wouldn't throw the Frisbee, so Alex tackled him. Jared stared after them, but his attention fixed on Alex. Jared indulged himself, watching Alex play, the movement of his body, the flash of the sun on his dark curls, and his smile that lit the world. After a few minutes, Jared laughed, bringing his flighty thoughts back to reality. Alex was fifteen; his dreams would change a hundred times before realizing one. When he was grown and ready for a lover, Jared would be a thing of his past.

"Jared, come on!" Alex yelled, and even though the books needed balancing before Monday, Jared played Frisbee with the boys.