The Storm Before the Calm (18 page)

BOOK: The Storm Before the Calm
3.72Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“I am going to go unpack. You boys have fun,” Ginny said, kissing my forehead. “I have some errands to run this afternoon. Charlie, maybe you and I can hang out tonight? I have the night off since I was supposed to be gone until Wednesday.”

“It’s a date,” I said.

Chapter Twenty-One

 

 

M
AX
AND
I spent most of the rest of the day lounging around the apartment. For a few minutes we’d toyed with going to Riverside Park to see Grant’s Tomb, but in the end it had been such a crazy weekend for me, and I was exhausted. We ended up draped over one another on the sofa watching an old Western. I wasn’t really paying attention to what happened on screen. My brain was shorted out with the way Max’s fingers traced over the inside of my elbow, almost tickling but not quite.

A few hours later, and with great reluctance, we said good-bye. I was thankful Ginny was still out, because the way Max kissed me good-bye was definitely not chaste. I was quickly becoming addicted to him, and minutes after he left, I wanted him back. I’d never felt like this about another person before. It was a craving, a compulsion to be near him. I didn’t know how I was going to survive tearing myself away when I left.

I closed the door behind him and walked to the kitchen, grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge, and sat back down in the living room to wait for Ginny. I figured she wouldn’t be out much longer. I lay down, my head on the fluffy pillow on the end of the couch as I flipped through channels, not landing on anything long enough to see what it was. Eventually I settled on a game show of some kind. I drifted off before the final round and woke later to the sound of the front door closing with Ginny’s arrival.

“Charlie, are you home?” she called.

“In here,” I replied, swinging my legs over and standing. My joints were stiff, and I stretched, bending backward to get the kink out of my back. The faint ache from the cuts on my ribs was gone, having disappeared completely after weeks without a repeat.

Ginny walked in as I let my arms drop, her arms laden with paper bags of groceries. I rushed over to her, taking three and helping her into the kitchen.

“Did you have a nice day?” she asked, placing a cantaloupe into the fridge.

“I did. It was nice to do nothing.”

“Did Max stay long?”

“Not too long. He left a while ago. I’ve been napping on the couch since then.”

Ginny smiled at me. “I’m glad you’re getting some rest. What do you feel like doing tonight? A movie?”

“That would definitely work. Any activity where I am not required to exert any energy sounds perfect to me.”

“A movie it is. We can see what’s on Netflix.”

I helped her put away the groceries, and then we decided on Indian food for dinner: butter chicken and vegetable korma, lamb vindaloo and butter naan bread, all delivered from the East Indian restaurant up the street. Of all the food my aunt had purchased, none of it would actually make a complete meal. Luckily there were more places that offered takeout than there were pigeons in Central Park. New York really was a magical place.

The food was delivered in less time than it took me to phone my mom to check in. I hid in my room, dialing her cell phone number and waiting for her to pick up. I hadn’t spoken to her for a while, but the conversation was cut short anyway when she had to go back in to work. I missed her terribly, but at the same time, I was petrified she would hear something in my voice. Could you hear love?

I paused. Although I didn’t have a lot of experience with guys and dating, I was well aware it was far too soon to be tossing around a word as heavy as that. But why was it that once it popped into my head, it stuck there like the catchy eighties song on the radio? I tried to shake the thought from my mind, but it was stubborn, clinging on and taking root, digging itself deeper until I gave up and went to have dinner with my aunt. I could examine my feelings later.

Ginny and I ate, both of us taking turns running back and forth between the kitchen and the living room for glasses of water. Apparently the Indian food in Beacon wasn’t all that authentic, because this stuff was
spicy
. We finished eating, and I cleared our plates.

“You still feel like you’re breathing fire?” Ginny asked, following me into the kitchen with our water glasses for the forty-seventh refill.

“Like I could torch a village,” I replied.

“I think I have something that will help.” She opened the freezer and pulled out a giant tub of ice cream. “Go grab some blankets, and I’ll bring this in. We’ll binge on sugar while we watch our movie.”

I didn’t need to be asked twice. I grabbed the blankets from the end of her bed and the end of mine and piled them on top of us on the couch. Ginny handed me a spoon and the ice cream while she reached for the bottle of chocolate sauce, then poured it directly into the container.

“Easier this way,” she said. “Fewer dishes.”

I nodded my agreement, my mouth too full to speak.

It was nice, hanging out with my aunt. We’d always gotten along well, and her company was always comfortable. She was one of the few people in the world I didn’t have to be anxious around. I was suddenly so incredibly grateful for my family.

 

 

T
HE
MOVIE
ended, and Ginny turned to look at me, her smile putting me at ease. I had known this was coming from the moment she’d walked in on Max and me. I took a breath and braced myself for it. The talk. This was it.

“You know I love you, Sprout.”

I nodded. “I do. I love you too.”

“You and your mom are the only family I’ve got, and so if there’s ever anything you want to talk to me about or anything you need, I’m here. You get that, right?”

“I do. I’m still sorry about earlier. I know it’s a lot to process. Hell, I’m still trying to process it all, but if there’s anything you wanna know, you can ask me,” I added, my voice quiet.

She looked at me for a moment, as though she were trying to gather her thoughts and line them up in a neat row.

“Have you always known?”

I chewed the inside of my cheek, thinking about how to answer. “I suppose maybe in the back of my mind, somewhere unconsciously. Maybe I’ve known for a long time, but I only admitted it to myself recently. I knew there was something different about me from when I was really young, and the things the guys at school said about me, well, I didn’t want to believe they were true because they made it all sound so ugly. I guess I never thought being gay was anything but a curse until I came here. And because of that, I wasn’t willing to own up to who I am.”

“And how do you feel now?”

“Confused. There’s still a very strong part of me that fights giving in to it. I look at Max, and I see this vibrant, confident, wonderful person, and I think ‘He’s amazing and he’s gay, so being gay can’t be inherently terrible,’ but then I think about the people back home and what their reaction would be. I think about disappointing my mom and how hurt and confused she’s going to be when she finds out. I think about what my life will be like in Beacon if I come out, and the image isn’t a pleasant one. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to bear the backlash that will come from being honest.”

Ginny grabbed me, pulling me into a hug. “You’re braver than you think, Charlie. I know this is a very personal decision, so I am not going to try to convince you one way or the other, but I do think you should tell your mom. She would understand. She would. I know her better than anyone. She could never be disappointed in you.”

I shrugged. “I know she loves me, and I’m not scared she’s going to disown me or throw me out of her life. I know she wouldn’t do that. But I also know she has hopes and dreams for me. She wanted me to settle down and get married and have a family someday. I can’t disappoint her like that.”

“Who’s to say you won’t?” Ginny challenged.

“Dylan Cardero.”

Ginny looked confused. “Was he your first boyfriend?”

“Fuck no,” I said, then sheepishly added, “sorry.”

“It’s fine. Who is he?”

“He’s the guy at school who made my life a living hell my entire high school career. He was the leader anyway. He had lots of supporters, and for whatever reason, they chose me as their target, and they harassed the faggot every day right up until graduation. They’re all still there. They were brutal when all they had was speculation and guesses. If I came out….” I shuddered at the possibilities.

Ginny squeezed my hand. “I’m sorry, Charlie.”

“What are you sorry for?”

“That you don’t live in a world that is more accepting of who you are, that you’re scared for people to find out. It’s not fair.”

I hugged her. “Nope, but who ever said life was supposed to be fair?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

 

 

T
HE
FOLLOWING
week was wonderful. I was starting to get into the rhythm of things at the studio, loosening up and letting the music flow through me. I was less focused on technique and more focused on feeling the movements. It was a marked difference from how I had danced back home. There was a lot to be said for perfect turnout and meticulous lines, but without the soul of it, there was no point.

“You were great today,” Andy said, bouncing after me as I walked down the stairs.

“Thanks. You too,” I said, giving her a smile. We had gotten closer since the beginning too, talking more and more during our lunch breaks. I liked Andy. She was always smiling, and it made me happy to see her. There was an energy about her that was contagious, and you couldn’t help but want to be in her company. I was going to miss her like crazy when I left.

“Are you busy this afternoon?” she asked.

“Nope, I was going to head home and go to bed early.”

“Do you want to grab a coffee with me?”

The invitation was a little out of the blue. As much as we enjoyed one another’s company, that enjoyment hadn’t extended beyond studio hours. I looked at her, trying to figure out the motivation behind her request. There was no reason for her intentions to be anything other than friendly.

“Sure, that sounds nice actually.”

“Great! I have to grab my things, and then we can go.”

“I’ll meet you out front,” I said, pushing through the door to the men’s changeroom.

 

 

A
FEW
minutes later, we were standing in line at the Starbucks a block and a half over, Andy pulling her wrap sweater out of her bag and draping it around her body. When it was our turn, we stepped to the front, gave the barista our orders, paid, and then waited off to the side for our drinks to be mixed.

When they were ready, we grabbed them and slid into an empty table by the window. I sat down across from her and took a sip of my drink. Happiness suffused my entire body. I loved Starbucks. It was expensive, but there was something about the crisp white paper cup with the green mermaid logo that made me happy. Andy was rolling the corner of the cardboard sleeve back and forth, curling it over and straightening it out.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“Yeah…,” she said, looking up at me.

There was something up, I could feel it. I didn’t say anything, waiting for Andy to bring up whatever it was she wanted to talk about.

“Well…,” she started.

Here it came.

“There was one thing I wanted to talk to you about. I know we’re not good friends. I mean, we’re good friends, but this friendship is new, and I hope I’m not pushing anything on you, but I was kinda hoping to ask you for some advice.”

“You want advice? From me? The least together person on the planet? Are you sure?”

She giggled. “You’re totally together. I wish I could be more like you.”

I was dumbfounded. It was an impossible task to try to wrap my brain around what she had said. How could anyone be so myopic as to think I had my life figured out? Maybe she was sniffing glue in her spare time. I shook my head in disbelief but motioned for her to continue.

“I was thinking of maybe asking Max out.”

If I’d been dumbfounded before, now I was entirely stunned. A thousand thoughts flew into my mind in that moment. But as many thoughts as I had, I couldn’t seem to form a single one into words.

“Never mind,” Andy said, her tone dejected. “It was stupid.”

“No, it’s not that,” I said, reaching across the table to lay my hand on hers. “I don’t think you’re Max’s… type,” I blurted.

I didn’t know what else to say, but it was clearly the wrong thing. I watched as her face fell, melancholy overtaking her features. I took a deep breath. I’d hurt her, and I only knew of one thing that might fix the situation.

“No, Andy, you don’t understand… I-I’m Max’s type.”

The words came out as barely more than a whisper, but I knew Andy had heard me. Her expression changed from misery to elation in less than half a second.

“Are you…? You and Max?” she demanded excitedly.

I nodded. I don’t think I could have spoken if I’d wanted to. One more person knew my secret. There was one more person who could divulge the information to the wrong people, and then… and then…. Well, I didn’t exactly know what would happen then.

I focused on Andy, forcing myself to look at her, to process the enthusiasm and joy that radiated off her in energetic waves. I compelled my brain to process what was happening, that the sky hadn’t fallen, that Andy was ecstatic. She jumped up from the table, rushed around to throw her arms around my shoulders. I was so shocked I forgot to return the hug.

She sat back down, her eyes trained on me. “Charlie, are you okay?”

I nodded wordlessly.

“Are you sure?” she asked, her eyes narrowed, evaluating.

“Yeah. Sorry, it’s just… new for me. I… uh… haven’t told many people.”

“About you and Max?”

“Well, yeah, but also that I’m gay.” Although I’d said it out loud a few times, it was still difficult to push the words out each time. I hoped eventually it would become second nature.

Andy smiled warmly. “Thanks for telling me. I’m happy for you guys. I can’t say I’m not really jealous, but you guys would make a cute couple, now that I think about it. And I am so happy I talked to you about this first. Imagine how embarrassing it would have been if I’d gone after him. I would have gotten shut down.”

Other books

Diane Arbus by Patricia Bosworth
To Desire a Highlander by Sue-Ellen Welfonder
Megan's Island by Willo Davis Roberts
Ain't Misbehaving by Shelley Munro
The Monsoon Rain by Joya Victoria
Dream Dancer by Janet Morris