Is He Or Isn't He? (8 page)

And they were probably very ordinary.

But ordinary might just be what he needed.

Anthony left his closet and stuck his head out into the hallway. He could hear the sound of the TV in the living room.

Good. That meant Paolo was occupied.

The coast was clear!

He tiptoed down the hallway to Paolo's bedroom. When he opened the closed door and stepped inside, he wrinkled his nose. Pew! What was that sour smell?

Wrinkled clothes were thrown all over the floor, the bed was unmade and there were empty pizza boxes on the dresser.

His brother lived like a pig! He could only imagine what his dorm room looked like.

Anthony headed straight for Paolo's walk-in closet. When he opened the door, he saw two shopping bags lined against a wall. He took a peek inside of one and inhaled the scent of fresh, new clothes. Yes!

As Anthony rummaged through the bags, he knew he shouldn't be doing it but he wouldn't even be raiding his brother's closet if Paolo hadn't mentioned the new clothes he'd bought. It wasn't
his
fault. Paolo was the one to blame for tempting him!

After finding what he wanted, Anthony left the closet. He had just closed the door and turned around when he saw Paolo standing in the bedroom doorway. Paolo's mouth dropped open in shock at the sight of Anthony.

And then his eyes fell on the pile of clothes in Anthony's hands.

“What do you think you're doing?” Paolo asked in a deadly whisper.

Uh-oh. Caught!

And it wasn't good that Paolo was whispering. No way.
When Paolo whispered, that meant he was
really
angry.

Anthony shrugged innocently. “Just borrowing something to wear.”

“What did I just say no more than five minutes ago? Stay out of my stuff! I don't want you borrowing my clothes.” Paolo held out a hand. “Hand them over.”

“Come on, Pow,” Anthony pleaded. “Just let me borrow this one outfit and I'll never go through your things again. I promise.”

“No! I haven't even worn it yet. Besides, you'll stink it up with your cologne.”

“That's better than your unwashed jock smell.”

Anthony clasped a hand over his mouth. Ooops!

“Oh, you are so going to regret that, Ants.” Paolo began advancing toward Anthony, a determined look on his face. Anthony remained frozen in place, but then, just as his brother neared, he zigzagged around him and raced back to his bedroom, locking the door behind him.

Yes, success!

Paolo began pounding on the locked door.

“I'm going to count to five and if you haven't opened this door by then, I'm going to break it down. One…”

“Calm down, Pow. Take a chill pill. I promise I won't wear any cologne and after Max leaves, I'll wash and iron your outfit, okay?”

“No! Not okay! You're a spoiled brat who thinks he can do whatever he wants and I'm sick of it!”

“Go away, Pow. I have to get dressed.”

“You're going to have to come out eventually, and when you do…”

“Aren't you missing your soccer game?” Anthony called out.

“Shoot!” Paolo pounded on the door one last time. “I'll deal with you later.”

Anthony listened as Paolo stomped back to the living room. As long as the soccer game was on, he was safe. He'd worry about Paolo's revenge later.

 

In the end, Anthony was pleased with the way he looked. He was dressed casually in a pair of Diesel jeans and a white T-shirt trimmed with navy blue at the neck and sleeves. So the jeans were designer, the T-shirt wasn't, and the sneakers he wore were Keds (his own, not Paolo's). It all balanced out.

The doorbell rang right at four o'clock and Anthony's heart began thumping madly as he went to let Max in.

Get a grip! This isn't a date. We're just going to be hanging out.

As he walked past the living room, he could hear the sound of the soccer game blaring and Paolo yelling excitedly at the TV. That was a relief. One less thing to worry about.

“Right on time,” Anthony said, opening the front door. Max was wearing a pair of white jeans, flip-flops and a bright blue short-sleeved shirt. “Cool outfit. You look like you should be headed to the beach.”

Max shrugged, tossing the backpack he was carrying over one shoulder onto the chair next to the front door. “You can take the boy out of California, but you can't take California out of the boy.”

“Want a snack?” Anthony asked.

“What have you got?”

Anthony led the way into the kitchen and began poking
around the stainless steel freezer. He brought out a container of vanilla ice cream. “How about hot fudge sundaes?”

Max grinned and slapped his stomach. “Sounds good, but I don't have these abs because of hot fudge sundaes. Got anything else? Like yogurt or fruit?”

“Sure.” Anthony put away the ice cream and stuck his head in the refrigerator, quickly scanning the shelves.

Why did I offer him a hot fudge sundae? Now he's going to think I'm a junk food junkie!

“There's some sliced honeydew and strawberries.”

“That sounds good.”

After fixing them both a bowl of fruit, Anthony and Max headed to his bedroom. Max flopped himself down on Anthony's bed while Anthony took a seat at his desk.

I don't think I'm ever going to wash that bedspread again!

“Who's in the living room watching TV?” Max asked.

Anthony rolled his eyes. “My brother Paolo. He's watching some soccer match.”

Max's eyes lit up. “The one from Italy?”

“Yeah…” Anthony slowly said. “I think that's the one.”

Max abandoned his bowl of fruit and jumped off the bed. “Would he mind if we watched with him? I'm a huge soccer fan.”

“You are?”

An hour later Anthony was sitting on the couch in the living room, bored out of his mind while Paolo and Max were glued to the TV, screaming every time a goal was made or missed. And then during the commercials, they bonded over football, baseball, basketball, hockey and every other sport known to man.

Who would have thought that Max would be such a jock?

Finally, the game ended, much to Anthony's relief.

“Thanks for letting me watch with you,” Max said when Paolo turned off the TV.

“Any time you want to watch a game, just give a call,” Paolo said. “Any friend of Ants's is a friend of mine.”

“Don't you have a college paper to research or write?” Anthony asked while glaring at Paolo.

Paolo settled deeper into the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table. “Nope.”

“Hey, Paolo, are you a Knicks fan?” Max asked.

More sports talk?
Anthony mentally wailed.
Nooooo!!!!!

“Of course!”

“I have courtside seats for the season. You wanna go one night?”

“You bet I would!”

Anthony couldn't believe what he was hearing. Max was asking
his brother
out? What about him?!

“You too, Ants,” Max said, turning to Anthony.

Sure, treat me like an afterthought!

“I'd love to go,” Anthony said, hoping he sounded excited.

“Anthony? Go to a basketball game?” Paolo howled with laughter, clutching his sides. “That I've got to see!”

“I think I hear the phone in your bedroom ringing,” Anthony growled between gritted teeth.

Paolo tilted his head in the direction of his bedroom and listened. “I don't hear a thing.”

“I do.”

“Are you sure?”

Anthony jumped off the couch and shoved Paolo's feet off the coffee table. “Yes, I'm sure. You better go answer it.
Now
.”

“Temper, temper, Ants,” Paolo whispered into Anthony's ear as he got off the couch. “See you later, Max,” he said as he left the living room.

“Your brother is really cool,” Max said.

“I guess, but he's a total pain,” Anthony complained.

“So where's the screenplay?” Max asked.

“In my room. Let me go get it.” Anthony returned and handed Max a freshly printed out screenplay. “You can take it home with you. Or you can read it here.”

Max began flipping through the pages. “Wow, I can't believe you wrote this.”

“They're just words.”

“No they're not.” Max held up the screenplay. “You've created a whole world here. Characters who live and breathe and think. Not everyone can do that.”

“Thanks.”

Max started reading a few pages.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Anthony asked.

“Why wouldn't I?”

“Some actors won't take…gay roles,” Anthony explained. “You know, because they're afraid people are going to think they're gay in real life. Or that it might hurt their career. And then there are actors who really are gay, but they don't want the rest of the world knowing and so they pretend to be straight.”

“A good part is a good part,” Max said. “Actors who turn down roles because they're afraid of what other people are going to think or say are stupid.”

“Do you want to run some scenes together?” Anthony suggested.

Max glanced at his watch. “Oh, wow! I don't know. I'm actually supposed to meet my mom at six.” Max held up the screenplay. “But I'm going to take this home with me. Start learning my lines. You can definitely count me in.”

Anthony walked Max from the living room. At the front door, he grabbed his backpack off the chair where he'd left it and unzipped it to put in the screenplay. As he did, a jumble of papers fell out.

“I'm not the most organized guy in the world,” Max said, as he started gathering the fallen papers and tossing them into his backpack.

“Let me help,” Anthony offered.

“That's okay. I've got it.”

“Guess I'll see you at school tomorrow,” Anthony said, holding the front door open.

“Yeah, let's have lunch together,” Max said, tossing his backpack over one shoulder. “I really had a great time today. Bye!”

“Bye,” Anthony said.

After Max left, Anthony stormed into Paolo's bedroom where he found his brother on his bed, spinning a basketball on his finger.

“You ruined everything!”

“Oh, I did, did I?” Paolo asked, keeping his eyes on the basketball.

“Yes, you did! This afternoon was supposed to be about me and Max getting to know each other better. Instead, what happens? You steal him from me!”

“What?!” Paolo stopped spinning the basketball and started laughing hysterically. “I didn't
steal
him from you.
Can I help it if Max and I have a lot in common? Stop being such a baby.”

Anthony stomped his foot. “I'm not being a baby!”

“Yes, you are.” Paolo began singing, “Baby, baby, stick your head in gravy. Wash it out with bubblegum and send it to the navy! Baby, baby!”

“You're impossible!” Anthony shouted, leaving the room and then storming back in. “You're not going to that basketball game with him!”

“I'm not?”

“No, you're not! If anyone is going out with Max, it's going to be me!”

“Can I help it if your boyfriend likes me better than you?”

Anthony picked up a pillow at the foot of Paolo's bed and started pounding him on the head with it before Paolo grabbed the other pillow on the bed and started pounding back. Within seconds the brothers were wrestling on the bed and Paolo had pinned Anthony down.

“Listen to me
very
closely, Ants, because I'm going to say this once and only once,” Paolo warned. “You listening?”

“Ahg! I'm listening!” Anthony said, struggling to break free.

“You've got five minutes to march yourself down to your room and change out of my clothes.
Five
minutes.” Paolo released his grip on Anthony and got off the bed. “Or else.”

“Or else what?”

Paolo reached into the drawer of his nightstand and withdrew the electric hair clipper he used when he gave himself buzz cuts. “Or else I'm going to shave your head the next time you go to sleep!”

“You wouldn't!” Anthony gasped.

Paolo gave Anthony an evil smile. “Down to the scalp and you know it.”

Anthony jumped off the bed and ran all the way back to his bedroom.

 

“He didn't want to rehearse,” Anthony told Paige five minutes later. He was lying on his bed in a yellow polo top and blue jeans, talking on his cell phone after dumping Paolo's clothes back in his bedroom. He kept running a hand through his hair, as if wanting to make sure it was all still there. Paolo didn't make idle threats. Tonight he'd be sleeping with his bedroom door locked. Maybe he'd even push a dresser in front of the door.

The scent of Max's cologne was still on his bedspread. Anthony buried his face in it and inhaled. “What do you think that means?”

“Maybe he's one of those Method actors. You know, he has to immerse himself into the character first.”

“I suppose,” Anthony grudgingly admitted.

“Why do you sound so down?”

“Because as much as I hate to admit it, I think my big brother may be right. Max might be straight. You should have seen him watching that soccer game.”

“Lots of gay guys like sports.”

“The one you're talking to doesn't.”

“Ever hear of opposites attracting?”

“I guess.”

“Don't forget that he agreed to play Michael! You're overreacting.”

“Maybe…but maybe not.”

“You know what?” Paige said. “You need a sugar fix. Right now I'm getting a mani and pedi with Rachel, but I shouldn't be here much longer. Why don't we meet at our usual spot?”

“Okay.”

After getting off the phone with Paige, Anthony left his bedroom. As he was walking to the front door, he noticed a slip of paper under the chair where Max had left his backpack. He must have overlooked it when he was putting everything back into his bag. Yay! A reason to call Max!