Band Fags! (16 page)

“You know…It's not like I think of you as a sexual object or anything.”

To which Lou responds, “Tell me something I don't already know.” Then she grabs the back of Brad's head, opens her mouth, and crams her tongue down his throat in what's gotta be the most awkward situation I've ever seen Brad in.

Around 10:45 PM, the party breaks up on account of Cheri and Betsy have to be home by 11:00 PM. We all walk the Sheffield Girls out to the red Chevette parked across the street from my house. “Thanks for inviting us,” says Cheri.

“It was fun,” Betsy throws in. “See you on Monday in
le français.
”

“Can you give me a ride home, Lou?” Brad asks, knowing she lives over near Webb on Martin Road. Which is just down the block and on the other side of 9 Mile from Wanda.

“Let's stop by EB's on the way and grab some coffee,” Lou suggests. By which she means the Elias Brothers' Big Boy restaurant.
Home of the Original Big Boy.
Which is basically like a Big Mac complete with a “special sauce” that's really just Thousand Island dressing. “Aly, you coming with?”

“I think I'll pass,” Alyssa replies. “Kate's being a Total Bitch again.” The one whom she's talking about is her Mom.

“We can give you a ride,” Cheri tells Alyssa. “You're totally on our way.” Cheri and Betsy live over in the fancy part of Hazeltucky called the Courts. Which is an area south of 9 Mile consisting of five semicircular blocks—kinda like the ones on
Knots Landing
—and some pretty nice two-story houses.

“I think I'm gonna walk home,” Alyssa tells her friends. “It's not that far.”

“You sure?” Lou says, nostrils starting to flare.

“I'll be fine…Maybe I can get the Sophomore here to walk with me.” I assume she's talking about me. It's a good thing I've changed out of my Aunt Edna getup into my jeans, tennis shoes, and navy blue BLFAC hooded sweatshirt. Which I think I'm finally starting to outgrow, now that I'm up to 5'6". Which is pretty good considering I'm finally as tall as my Dad.

“Are you kidding?” Audrey says, piping up for the first time in a while. “Jack's not gonna walk you home…His little brother's braver than he is.”

“Thanks a lot!” I tell my so-called friend.

“Looks like she burned you,” Alyssa teases, making a connection with Audrey for the first time the entire night.

Which is why Audrey offers to walk with her. Being that her house is only three blocks down from where Alyssa lives off Woodward Heights on Harding.

“I'll go with you guys,” I give in, not about to let myself look bad in front of my unofficial girlfriend.

Betsy yawns.
“Pardonnez-moi!”
Then she and Cheri climb into the Chevette and they're off!

Now that I think of it, Cheri and Betsy could've totally given Audrey a ride home. Being that they have to pass right by her house on the way to the Courts. I wonder if maybe they
don't
like her, the way Audrey's always worrying.

“Call me tomorrow,” Brad tells me before climbing into Lou's car. I watch as she drives away in a squeal of tires and dry leaves…Without even saying good-bye!

“What's her problem?” I ask Alyssa, referring to the fact that Lou barely said a word to me the entire night except for when she was insulting me.

“Who knows?” Alyssa shrugs. “Lou's been OTR for like the past week.”

“OTR?” I say, having no idea what the Hell she's talking about.

“Forget it,” says Audrey. “You're a guy.”

Down the block we go on Shevlin. Followed by a right on Vassar. Then down to the corner of Woodward Heights.

“Do I still get my hug?” Audrey asks sheepishly, hesitating to reach out in her usual take-charge manner.

“Of course.” I know Alyssa's not gonna care if I hug one of my Best Friends good-bye. “Mmm…Suave Strawberries.”

“Enjoy it while you can,” Audrey whispers in my ear. Then she disappears inside.

“That girl's got it bad,” Alyssa laughs as we continue on our way.

“Who?” I ask.

“Ostrich,” Alyssa replies. “She totally wants you.” Then she takes my hand and leads me into a darkened parking lot…Behind the Hazel Park Church of Christ!

“Where are you taking me?” I whimper. Not that I'm scared or anything, 'cause I'm not. But I'm a little nervous about what I think is coming next.

“Don't be scared…I'll protect you.”

Alyssa pushes me—literally—up against the yellow and orange brick building. “Ow!” I can't help but cry, feeling a sharp pang against my back. “You're hurting people.”

“You ain't seen nothing yet,” she whispers in a way that can only be described as “seductively.” Then she presses her warm body against mine.

In the seven weeks I've known Alyssa Resnick, I've never been this close to her. In fact, since the time I laid with Lynn Kelly on her couch watching MTV back in 7
^th
grade, I don't think I've been this close to
any
girl.

“Somebody might see us,” I fear, as per my usual Worry Wart self.

And with that, she kisses me…On the mouth. Tongue and all.

Unfortunately, nothing happens. By which I mean Down There. And I've gotta admit, it usually never does. At least not when it comes to girls.

The few times in my life that I've actually made out with a member of the Opposite Sex, not once have I gotten the slightest bit aroused. Not once have I felt like I could take things to the next step, i.e., having S-E-X. Not even a kiss on the cheek from Kristian Alfonso in Toledo, OH, got my motor going!

And yet…The slightest thought of Jon-Erik Hexum or Mr. Grant taking a shower at school or some Random Guy riding the escalator at Oakland Mall and it's like…I have no control!

As much as I hate to admit it, maybe there's something wrong with me…

Maybe I am
like that?

I think I've
always
known.

For as far back as I can remember, I've always felt this way. Even before I'd ever heard the F-A-G word, I knew I was different. Maybe it's because my Mom really wanted a daughter? Not that she isn't happy having a son. But the way she sees it, if I'd been born a girl, my life would be a lot easier. I could grow up, get married, and have a baby. Like she did. I could stay home and take care of the kids while my husband went to work. Like she did. Then one day, I could be the Proud Mother of an almost-16-year-old boy who thinks he might be…
Like that.

It could also be the fact that the only other boy in my family before my brother Billy came along was my cousin, Jimmy, who's like five years older than me, so we barely ever played together. Instead, my childhood Best Friends were Jimmy's sisters, Rachael and Rhonda.

Growing up, it was always
Jackie & the Girls.
Which explains why I had no other choice but to play
The Brady Bunch
with them whenever our Moms would get together for a visit. But did I ever get to be Greg or Peter or Bobby? No! Because everybody knows Carol Brady has
three
daughters. And Rachael always got to be Marcia, 'cause she was the oldest. And Rhonda had to be Cindy, 'cause she was the youngest. Which left me delegated to the role of middle child, Jan, 'cause I was in the middle.

Of course, when we weren't playing
Brady Bunch
it was always
Charlie's Angels
. Though did I really have to be Kris Munroe? Why couldn't I be Bosley? Or Charlie, even? Because
nobody
wants to be Bosley and Charlie's just some voice in a stupid box! Besides, everybody knows Charlie has
three
angels. And Rachael always got to be Kelly 'cause she was the pretty one. And Rhonda had to be Sabrina 'cause she was the youngest. Which left me delegated to the role of Kris, 'cause I had blond hair and blue eyes…Just like Cheryl Ladd.

At least my pretend name was rather unisex so I could get away with it. Could you imagine if Farrah Fawcett had never left the show and my Dad heard Rachael and Rhonda running around shouting, “Cover me,
Jill!
” I don't think he would've been too pleased.

But to be honest, I didn't mind playing these girl games. Don't get me wrong, I also loved my red toy fire engine and my Matchbox cars—especially the little blue Mustang that looked exactly like my Dad's '67 fastback, with tiny little doors that opened and closed. And my GI Joe doll.

Yes, I had a doll. But it's not like it was a Barbie or anything. Though one time in like 1st grade, I asked Santa's Helper up at Universal City for a pair of Donny & Marie dolls. Complete with cardboard TV studio set and plastic 45 RPM record you could play on your portable Fisher-Price record player while you danced Donny & Marie about the stage in their purple and pink designer costumes…And lo and behold, I actually got them!

Like he did every year, my Uncle Roy came over on Christmas morning and helped me put together the little black plastic TV camera and we put all the stickers on all the pieces, right where they belonged. Then we put that plastic 45 RPM record on my portable Fisher-Price record player and put on our very own
Donny & Marie Show
. Of course, I was Marie. Not because I wanted to
be
Marie Osmond, 'cause I didn't. I mean, if I were Marie Osmond, I couldn't possibly have a crush on my own brother, now could I? (Gross!)

Okay, I'll let you in on a little secret…Back when I was the ripe old age of 6, I had a Total Crush on Donny Osmond!

Those toothy-grinned Mormons might have stolen the hearts of America when they first took to the airwaves on
The Andy Williams Show.
But it was the purple socks-wearing/“Puppy-Love”-singing Donny who stole mine in 1976. I remember watching the very first episode of
Donny & Marie
with my cousins Rachael and Rhonda, lying on beanbags in the rumpus room of my Aunt Mary and Uncle Jim's house. When the closing credits rolled and Donny & Marie completed their last lap around the ice, accompanied by their Rockette-like Ice Dancing Girls, I knew I had found my One True Love!

I distinctly remember making a Dear Diary with Rachael and Rhonda out of lined notebook paper, folded in half and stapled, after watching the episode of
The Brady Bunch
in which Marcia wrote of her undying love for Desi Arnaz Jr. Of course, the information contained within my Dear Diary was extremely Private and Confidential. Even my own favorite cousins knew nothing of the contents that lay within.

“Dear Diary,” I wrote in my best little 1st grade cursive. “I love Donny.” As in Osmond.

Then one afternoon, while Rachael and Rhonda and I listened to our favorite Supertramp
Breakfast in America
album, lying on their trundle bed in their purple and pink bedroom, we completely forgot to hide our Dear Diaries. You can imagine the horror I felt when my 11-year-old cousin, Jimmy, burst through the door, informing us he'd gotten his dirty little been-out-catching-frogs-down-by-the-pond hands on them.

“Nooo!”

Lucky for us, my Aunt Mary intervened after she heard Rachael and Rhonda and I screaming our heads off. But it didn't help any when she decided to play along with her son, threatening to take a peek at our secret Dear Diaries herself.

“Nooo!”

“What is your problem?” she asked when my cries became hysterical.

“I don't want you to read my Diary,” I bawled. Which came out sounding more like, “Wah wah wah wah wah wah wah wahwahwah.”

“What kind of secrets could you possibly have at your age?” my Aunt Mary wondered. Which is a totally legit question, one would think. I know she wasn't trying to be mean. But it didn't make me happy to stand idly by and watch her as she was about to discover my Secret Crush…Which is why I reached out with my tiny little hands and tore the pages from her grasp.

“Nooo!”

With my yellow #2 pencil, I did my best to erase the words that would have most definitely been used against me in a Court of Law. My Aunt Mary retaliated by overpowering me, and with her much larger adult hands, pried the crumpled pages from my fingers…Which made me cry even harder.

“Would you knock it off, already?!” She looked at the page where I'd written the three little words I didn't want her to read. I knew she could still clearly make them out, their impression marring the page. Of course, I felt completely humiliated. What would my Mom say when my Aunt Mary told her? What would my
Dad
think?

“Why are you crying?” she asked me now. “I read what you wrote and there's nothing wrong with it,” she assured me.

There isn't?
Were my Feelings of Love perhaps Normal after all? Even though I felt them for another boy?

Aunt Mary looked me directly in the eye. Gently nodding her head, she made sure there was no mistake as to the meaning of what she was about to say next…“There's nothing wrong with loving your
Daddy.
”

Almost ten years later, has anything changed? As hard as I try—as hard as I fight it—sometimes I still feel…
like that.
Not so much when it comes to Donny Osmond anymore. Though every once in a while I'll see an old picture of him circa 1976 and I get that same funny feeling inside. By which I mean Down There.

Which is the main reason I had no interest in letting Luanne's Mom read my cards at their New Year's Eve party last night…

Did I mention Lou's Mom is a Witch? Not witch-witch as in green face, pointy black hat, flying around on a broomstick on Halloween. But Witch as in she worships trees and tells fortunes and stuff like that. More like a Gypsy, I'd call her. Though not gypsy-gypsy as in mole on her cheek, scarf on her head, running around the village stealing children.

Like most of my friends' parents, Mrs. Kowalski is divorced. And because Lou's an only child, it's been just her and her Mom living alone together for a long time. So they're more like sisters than mother and daughter, the way they hang out together. Which might explain why Lou's Mom told her she could invite everybody over on New Year's Eve and offered to give us our Predictions for the Coming New Year.

As cool as I thought it would be spending the holiday evening with a bunch of my High School Friends, the last thing I needed was for Lou's Mom to expose all my Deep Dark Secrets in front of all the Band Fags.

“You wanna meet for dinner at Big Boy's first?” Brad suggested. Which has become our recent Hang Out of sorts. It's the only place that will allow us to sit and smoke and drink coffee for hours. By us, I mean Lou and Brad and Max—who apparently is no longer friends with Tom Fulton so he's started hanging out again, just like Old Times. Thank God Alyssa hasn't picked up The Habit. At least not the one involving nicotine. Proudly, I partake in neither. (Gross!)

Lou also invited Cheri and Betsy Sheffield to her party. But a last minute Michigan Blizzard popped up on Doppler 4 prompting Mrs. Sheffield to forbid her daughters from driving the mile across town for fear they might get killed. Talk about being paranoid! In all my years, I've never known anybody to get into an accident, let alone die from one.

So the so-called
soirée
ended up more like a Triple Date of me and Alyssa, Brad and Lou, and Max and Audrey…

We arrived at EB's around 9:30 PM. A blanket of white covered the deserted parking lot. Through the windows it looked totally dead inside. Sure enough, we had no problem getting our favorite table in the front corner near the kitchen.

“Can I get you something to drink?” Our waiter for the evening approached our table. He whipped out his trusty notepad from the back pocket of his black Dockers. I immediately recognized him as Kevin Ebersole, a Junior in Luanne's class at Hillbilly High.

“Coffee,” ordered Lou, an air of superiority in that one word that seemed to say, “
I'm
the Customer,
you're
the Waiter…Don't you dare forget it.”

“Coffee,” said Brad politely. “Please.”

“The same,” added Audrey. I couldn't help but notice the way she stared down at her menu, totally avoiding Kevin's gaze.

“I'll have coffee,” said Alyssa with a smile.

Max popped a wad of watermelon Bubblicious into his mouth. “Make it five.”

“And for you?” Kevin turned to me, last but not least.

“A large Sprite with lemon,” I answered.

Only to be teased by Alyssa. “He's always a problem.”

“No problem at all,” Kevin replied, his red and white checked bow tie choking him. “I'll be right back with your drinks.”

After he'd headed towards the kitchen, Audrey looked up. “He's kinda cute, huh?” Her cheeks were a bit flushed, which I noticed right away.

“Not my type,” Luanne grumbled. She thumbed through her menu looking at the selection of sandwiches. “Think I'll have a Slim Jim.”

“I've always thought so,” said Alyssa, getting back to the subject of Mr. Ebersole. Which, I must admit, surprised me a little. Not that Kevin doesn't seem like a nice guy. But I wouldn't call him “cute.” He kinda reminds me of a Campbell's Soup Kid. All rosy-cheeked and red-faced and
M'm! M'm! Good!
Though he is kinda tall with dark wavy hair. And he's got a nice smile, I suppose.

A few minutes later, Kevin returned. With the utmost ease he balanced the six beverages on a single brown plastic tray. “Here we go…” I couldn't help but notice the way his top teeth rubbed against his bottom lip when he talked. Like a rabbit.

“My, aren't you efficient?” Alyssa teased when Kevin began distributing the hot mugs around the table. Or was she flirting? It was hard to tell. Not that I thought I had any reason to feel jealous. Unless that's how Alyssa
wanted
me to feel.

Kevin handed me my large Sprite. “Can I get anyone anything else?”

As much as I hated being difficult, he seemed to have forgotten the lemon I had
specifically
requested. See, what I like to do is…First I squeeze the lemon into the glass. Then I add a single packet of sugar, causing a volcanic eruption of bubbles and fizz. Which is totally cool and totally makes the Sprite taste better, don't ask me why!

“Can I get some lemon?” I asked, hoping not to be too much of a pain. So I added, “Please.”

To which Alyssa said, “Guess I was wrong about your being efficient, Kevin.”

Which made Kevin laugh nervously. “Sorry…I'll get it for you right away.” Then he headed back towards the swinging double doors.

Just as he walked away, Lou called out, “Bring an ashtray, would you?” Like Kevin was her own Personal Slave or something. Then she pulled out her pack of cigarettes. As did both Brad and Max. I held back the urge to cough as a hazy cloud began billowing above our table.