Rainbow Boys (3 page)

The most amazing thing was how Nelson talked about all this stuff in front of his own mom. She even subscribed to XY magazine for him.

“How did you ever tell her?” Kyle wanted to know.

Nelson lit a cigarette. “You kidding? She knew before I did. I’m her fucking cause.” Kyle thought about it. “A nd your dad?”

Nelson’s face darkened behind a puff of smoke. “Never mind him.”

When the subject changed to boys, Kyle confided he had a crush on a boy at school. He even admitted that he kissed his pillow at night pretending it was him.

Nelson took a drag on his cigarette. “What’s his name?”

“Promise you won’t tell?” Kyle hesitated. “Jason Carrillo.”

Nelson burst out coughing. “Carrillo? Ding-ding-ding! Gaydar! Gaydar! Closet case. Big time. A t least bi.” Kyle felt as if Nelson had just smacked him. “Shut up. He is not. How do you know?” Nelson grinned. “The same way I knew about you.”

Now Kyle thought back on it. Maybe Nelson had been right about Jason. But everyone knew Jason had a girlfriend. Last year they’d been voted Cutest Couple. This year Debra was running for homecoming queen.

Jason couldn’t be gay. But then why had he shown up at the Rainbow Youth meeting? Maybe he was bi. But even if he was, Jason would never be interested in him. He’d probably walked in by mistake, like he said. But Kyle hoped he hadn’t.

His mom tapped on the doorway of his bedroom, smiling. “Honey, are you sure you’re feeling all right?” She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve called you to dinner three times already.”

The high point of the meal was a phone call from Nelson. Kyle’s dad picked up his knife and cut into his beef. “Doesn’t he know not to call at dinnertime?”

His mom extended the receiver to Kyle. Without even saying hello, Nelson started talking. “Where did you go?” Kyle turned away from his parents. “None of your business.”

“Stop being such a drama diva! Come on. What do you want to do tonight?”

Kyle pondered for a moment. “Slit my wrists.”

Nelson sighed into the phone. “Yeah, and after that?”

“I don’t know,” Kyle said. “I. Don’t. Know.” He slammed the receiver down and returned to the table.

“Sounds like you two had a fight,” his mom said.

Kyle nodded tentatively and sat down.

His dad stabbed a piece of meat with his fork. “Why does he have to call you every five minutes? Doesn’t he have a life?” His dad waved his wrist in the air. “Maybe you should develop some friends that are less, you know, that are more …” His hand took a nosedive and thudded onto the table. “A thletic!”

Kyle’s mom glared at his dad and tugged on her ear. Kyle had figured out years ago that this was a signal for his dad to lay off. It usually took his dad a while to catch on, and tonight Kyle didn’t feel like waiting. He grabbed his cap from the back of his chair. “Can I be excused?”

Back in his bedroom Kyle tried some homework, then scanned Jason’s yearbook photo into his computer. He turned off his light and rolled over in bed. His mind drifted to images of Jason in the locker room of tenth-grade gym class—his biceps bulging against his T-shirt sleeves, his butt framed by his jockstrap. Kyle wrapped his arm around his pillow and, smiling, fell asleep.

The following Monday, Kyle arrived at school early, determined to find Jason and apologize about Nelson. But Jason was nowhere to be found. A s Kyle watched for him outside the cafeteria at lunch, he heard Nelson’s voice come up behind him.

“I made you a tape of the new Pansy Division.” Nelson held out a cassette. “Truly gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” Kyle slipped the tape into his pocket, hoping Nelson would leave before Jason showed up.

Nelson’s face brightened. “You going to lunch?”

“Not hungry. You go ahead.”

But Nelson didn’t budge. He stuck a finger into his blond hair and scratched. “You still upset about Saturday?”

“No,” Kyle lied. “Look, just leave me alone.”

“I’m sorry, for the thousandth fucking time.”

Kyle turned away.

“Fine,” Nelson said. “If you’re going to be a dick about it.” He strode off.

Kyle didn’t see Jason at lunch—or for the rest of the afternoon. When the last bell rang, he sulked toward his locker. Maybe Jason was sick or, more likely, too embarrassed to come to school. Kyle tossed his books into his locker, then closed the door.

There stood Jason, clutching his red backpack across his shoulder. “Wha’s up?” Startled, Kyle pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Uh, hi.”

Jason twisted his backpack strap in his hand and looked over his shoulder, taking a sweeping glance of the thinning crowd of students.

“I kept stopping by here looking for you today.” He cocked his head—a caring look. “I thought maybe you were sick.” Kyle melted beneath Jason’s brown eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, though he wasn’t certain why he was apologizing. “That’s what I thought.

I mean …” He didn’t know what he was saying, only that he was making a fool of himself. He shut his mouth and forced a smile.

“Listen.” Jason swallowed and his A dam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He looked left, then right, then straight at Kyle. “A bout last Saturday … I wasn’t sure what kind of meeting it was.”

Kyle knew it was a lie but nodded politely. What else could he do?

Jason continued, his voice low. “You haven’t told anyone, have you? I mean, that you saw me there?” Kyle saw the fear and shame in Jason’s face. “Of course not. I wouldn’t tell anyone.” Jason let out a sigh but then added, “You don’t think Nelly—I mean, Nelson—will tell anyone, do you?” Kyle didn’t think so, but Jason’s worry made him worry too. A bruptly Jason drew back, gazing behind Kyle. Kyle turned and saw Debra Wyler, Jason’s girlfriend.

“Hi, Kyle.” She gave him a sweet smile, and Kyle said hi back.

But Jason looked scared senseless. Kyle realized he’d better leave. “Well, I’ll see you later.”

“Later,” Jason said, and smiled a forced, worried smile.

Kyle stepped down the hall, picking up his pace. He had to find Nelson and make sure he didn’t tell anyone about Jason. He hoped it wasn’t too late.

CHAPTER 3

A fter school, Nelson went to Shea’s for a haircut. In preparation, he spread a linen sheet on her bedroom floor while she finished up on the phone with Caitlin.

“Where’s Kyle?” Shea asked when she hung up.

“How the fuck should I know?” The words came harsher than Nelson intended. “Sorry,” he mumbled.

Shea placed a chair in the middle of the sheet. “Does this have anything to do with that cute new boy at the meeting Saturday? The one you signaled me about?”

“Oh, gag me!” Nelson couldn’t believe that even his best dyke friend thought the basketball slut was cute. “I’m sick of everyone saying how cute Jason is.”

Shea stopped tying the towel around Nelson’s neck. “Wait a minute! That was the Jason? Kyle’s every-other-word crush Jason? He’s gay?”

Nelson shook a cigarette out of his pack. “T.C.J. Tragic closet jock. Budding homo.” He flicked his match into the incense bowl. “Oh, he’s okay. I just can’t stand Kyle going on about him. You saw how he flew over to him? A ll of a sudden I was history.” Shea picked up a pair of scissors. “So, you and Kyle had a fight because Jason showed up? Hmm …” The scissors snipped close to his ear. “Interesting …” Her voice took on that therapist’s tone.

Nelson hated it. Why did girls always act like they knew everything? “Don’t start that again! I’m not in love with Kyle.” Wet clumps of hair fell to the floor. “A nd he’s not in love with me.”

The phone rang. Shea dropped the scissors and rushed to it. Of course, it was Caitlin.

“You just talked to her,” Nelson protested.

You would’ve thought they hadn’t talked in a hundred years. Caitlin was applying to colleges for next year. She and Shea had to discuss the ins and outs of every frigging detail: local or out-of-state, dorm or apartment, blah, blah, blah. It drove Nelson bonkers.

While Shea talked, he stared at himself in the mirror. He couldn’t stand how boring he looked: the same blue eyes, as always. A nd even though Shea gave the most awesome haircuts, he’d grown tired of his blond hair. Dull. He read the hair dye labels on Shea’s dresser.

KAMIKAZE BLOND. That had crashed and burned. AUBURN. Lame. LUMINESCENT GREEN—GLOW S in the dark. Hmm … But would Kyle like it?

“Hey, faggot! Someone spit mouthwash on your head?” The voice belonged to Jack Ransom, school asshole.

Jack had bullied Nelson since middle school—calling him names, knocking the tray out of his hands in the cafeteria, punching him as he passed in the hall. Nelson fought back but usually got creamed. When his mom complained to the school, Mr. Mueller, the principal, argued that Nelson had to learn to control his temper.

Then last year, Jack and his thugs cornered Nelson in the boys’ restroom, kicked him down, and shoved his face into the toilet. Nelson’s mom pressed charges. Nelson hoped Jack would get fried in the electric chair. But he only got put on court probation.

Every morning since then, like a broken record, Nelson’s mom drummed into him: “If anyone bothers you, you just turn away.

Promise?”

So Nelson flipped Jack the finger and quickly turned away, walking smack into Debra and Jason.

“Oh, my God!” Debra said enthusiastically. “I love your hair!” She turned to her so-called boyfriend. “Isn’t his hair outrageous?” Jason was trying his hardest to avoid Nelson’s gaze.

The big phony, Nelson thought. He felt sorry for Debra. If she only knew … But he wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

Jason tugged her hand. “We better get to class.” A s he led her down the hall Debra’s voice trailed behind her: “He’s such a riot! You never know what he’ll come up with next.”

Nelson smiled. He loved every minute of the attention he received for his new do. Unfortunately, the person whom he most wanted to see it was taking geeky advanced-placement tests all that rainy day. A s soon as the final bell rang, Nelson headed toward Kyle’s homeroom. He hoped Kyle was over being angry at him.

Kyle closed his locker and grinned. That was a good sign. “I like your hair.” Nelson pouted. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”

• • • • • • • • • •

Outside, the boys stood beneath the overhang of the front entrance. Rain was pouring down. “You really like my hair?” Nelson asked.

Kyle shrugged. “It looks okay.” He fidgeted with his umbrella. “Look, I need to ask you something—”

“Just okay?” Nelson interrupted. That was the lamest compliment he’d gotten all day. “Not spectacular? Not fabulous?”

“It’s about Jason.”

“Jason’s more important than my hair?” He shook his head. “I dooon’t think sooo.” Kyle adjusted his glasses. “Shut up and listen. Did you tell anyone about him showing up at the meeting?” Nelson heard the worry in his voice and decided to tease him. “Of course.” Kyle’s eyes widened. “You did?”

Nelson strained not to grin. “Didn’t you hear the loudspeaker announcement this morning?”

“Very funny. I’m serious.”

“Let’s see …” Nelson tapped his fingertips on his chin. “I phoned Sheila Ledbetter yesterday morning. You know what a mouth she is.

Of course I told Maria at lunchtime.” He parodied a Spanish accent: “Jason es un maricón!” Kyle crossed his arms. “Damn it, just tell me. Did you tell anyone or didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t tell anyone.”

“A re you sure?”

Nelson really felt irritated. He hadn’t had his after-school smoke, it was pouring rain, he didn’t have an umbrella, and Kyle was being an asshole. “Kyle, I should know if I told anyone.”

“If you did,” Kyle persisted, “you better tell me now.”

“Screw you!” Nelson stepped into the torrent and hurried down the wet sidewalk. He bent his head and squinted his eyes as drops pelted his face. The slap of Kyle’s footsteps followed him.

“Okay, I believe you.” Kyle unfolded his umbrella as he jogged up.

Nelson kept walking, not bothering to look at him.

“You want to share my umbrella? You’re getting wet.”

Like Nelson hadn’t noticed. The sensible thing would be to accept Kyle’s offer. But even though he was drenched and cold, he ignored him. By the time they reached the stoplight at Washington Boulevard, his shoes felt heavy as water buckets.

“Sure you don’t want to share my umbrella?” Kyle asked.

Rain dripped from Nelson’s hair into his eyes. His soaked shirt clung to his skin and he was shivering. “Fine,” he relented.

Kyle huddled next to him, shielding him with the umbrella. They walked silently until they reached Lee Highway. Nelson stared at the light. “My toes are swimming. Hold on.” He leaned against Kyle and pulled off a shoe, emptied the water, then he did the other.

The light turned green and they continued. By the time they reached A lbemarle Street, the rain had tapered to a drizzle.

“Say, listen.” Kyle stared at Nelson through rain-spotted glasses. “I’m sorry about … you know.” He held out his hand. “Shake?” Nelson extended his hand just as a sneeze escaped him.