Wrestling With Desire (10 page)

Derek watched him place the album on the turntable.

Scott's eyes were wide with excitement and when he spoke his voice was animated. "Holy shit. I haven't ever met someone who actually has a record player since I was a kid.

You use these for mixing?"

Derek couldn't help the giggle that escaped from him.

Watching Scott, seeing the music and the equipment through his eyes, electrified the moment. "I don't actually use the record player for mixing, but I do use it to pick out the sounds I want to record digitally and upload to my mixer."

Scott was paying close attention to every word. "Here, check 83

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out the various sounds on this one. It's all sorts of different beats."

Scott started listening to the various tracks. Some beats were steady and unwavering while others were more complex, varying from slow to fast rhythms.

"I have tons of records that just have beats on them.

There are records which contain different vocal sounds or instrumental sounds. They even have records that have random shit like a train engine or a bomb going off." Derek moved closer to Scott so that their arms were touching. He was both surprised and pleased that Scott didn't flinch.

"Here." He grabbed an album that was by his feet. "Listen to this one. It's one of the records with random shit on it."

Scott took the record from Derek. "I had no idea that there were records like this." His interest was genuine and pure.

Derek kicked himself for having waited so long before inviting Scott to his house.

Derek felt his own excitement begin to expand in his chest.

He had never shared his love of mixing with anyone before.

Not even Beck. People just knew that he did it and they liked what he produced. He certainly had never invited anyone up to the attic before. Reaching into the pile of records next to him, he pulled out an album with vocal sounds on it.

They sat huddled together next to the turntable on the floor for several minutes. Eventually, Scott shifted his position so that he was facing Derek. "So how do you actually mix?"

"Well, the first thing I do is select the sounds I want to use. Why don't you pick a couple of sounds that you like?

Choose a variety of them. You know, beats, vocals, 84

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instrumentals. Then we can mix them." Scott listened to the various records for a few minutes and finally chose five sounds that he liked. "Ok, good. So now, I attach this DAT

recorder to the player..."

"I'm sorry, a what?" Scott asked.

"A DAT recorder. It stands for Digital Audio Tape recorder.

It's how I digitize the stuff from the records so they can be saved in the mixer's computer." He forgot that Scott didn't know any of this. It just felt so normal to have him here in the attic surrounded by his records and equipment. "Sorry, I'll try to break it down a little better. Once the sounds are recorded like this," Derek attached the DAT recorder to the record player and began recording the first beat Scott had selected, "I connect the DAT recorder to the mixer with a USB

cable and upload it to the mixer's memory."

"Ok, I get that part. It's like uploading a file to a computer, right?"

"Exactly. So you repeat this process with beats and with all of the other sounds until you have uploaded everything you want. Then comes the fun stuff. The mixing."

"Can we try it?"

The way Scott asked the question, the genuine interest and enthusiasm, caused Derek's breath to catch in his throat.

A wave of affection flooded his senses and he had to fight the urge to hug him as tightly as he could. "Heck yeah! Let's start mixing."

Derek spent the next hour explaining the various parts of the mixing machine, how to bring in one sound and then blend a new sound on top of the one playing. His mixer 85

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allowed for eight separate tracks to be played at once which could get quite complicated when you figured in balancing the volume, the level of the bass, fades from one set of sounds into a new set of sounds. Scott never became frustrated though. Whenever he wasn't sure what to do, he simply asked Derek how to do it, grinning and laughing with excitement the whole time. They could have continued for hours, but Derek's mother called them down for dinner.

"That was amazing. I can't believe you know how to do all that stuff." Scott was staring directly at Derek with unguarded admiration and his blue-green eyes were dancing. Derek was shocked by how beautiful Scott looked at that very moment.

"I got interested in playing around with my dad's record player when I was younger, and when I discovered the music store that sells these records for mixing in Harvard Square, I guess it all just sort of took off from there. I'm not all that great at it, but I'm passable and it gets me invited to all the parties." Derek didn't know why he had chosen to downplay Scott's compliment when he could have responded with a simple
Thanks.
Especially when Scott's praise made him feel like he was flying.

"Well, I think it's so cool. I can't wait to hear you at this weekend's party."

"Yeah, it will be fun." Derek didn't want this moment to end. He wanted to spend the rest of his life sitting on his attic floor with Scott. Reluctantly, he said the words he didn't want to say. "We should get downstairs before my mom comes up here and drags us to the table by our ears. When she cooks, she wants to
see
her dinners enjoyed." Derek nodded his 86

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head towards the door motioning for them to head out. He pushed himself to his feet and extended his hand to help Scott up.

Throughout dinner, Derek's parents questioned Scott about his home in Iowa, his parents, how he was enjoying Brampton High so far, and wrestling. Derek simply sat back and watched as his parents and Scott fell easily into comfortable conversation. He had had lots of friends over before, and his parents were always friendly and talkative, but seeing Scott and his parents together was different. He wasn't sure what it was, but he felt better than he could ever remember feeling.

When dinner was over, Clair hugged Scott and gave him a kiss on his forehead. "You make sure to come around again."

"Thank you so much Mr. and Mrs. Thompson. Dinner was wonderful. I can't remember the last time I ate a home cooked meal." As soon as the words escaped his lips, Scott's mouth clamped shut.

Claire placed a hand on his shoulder, seemingly unaware of Scott's discomfort. "Please call me Claire and call him Henry." Henry stepped forward and shook his hand.

In the car, Scott sat back against the seat, his head turned so that he faced Derek. "You're lucky. You know that right?"

Derek turned to face Scott. "Sure. But what specifically are you referring to?"

"Your parents. They're both so cool. They didn't even think twice about having me join you for dinner."

"They're like that. Always have been. But yes, I agree with you. I have great parents."

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Scott yawned. "I'm glad you invited me to your house. I've been wondering what your room looks like." The statement wasn't loaded with any underlying meaning, it was just a statement, but Derek's mind began to reel. "And the fact that you have that whole set up in your attic. It's awesome."

Derek pulled up to Scott's house and let the engine idle.

Turning to face Scott, all of the excitement and closeness of the evening seemed to intensify. Scott was the one who was good at saying things. It had never been Derek's strength. He had always felt safer observing. But tonight had been a night of taking risks.
Why stop now?
"Scott, I'm not just lucky because of my parents. I feel lucky that I met you this year."

Scott let his head roll slowly on the headrest until he was facing Derek. There was no reservation or hesitation when he spoke. "I'm glad you told me that." There was something in the way he said it that made Derek want to reach out and touch him. To comfort him. Scott sat there looking at Derek for another minute, then faced forward, stretching his arms in front of him. "I better get going. I'll see you tomorrow at school."

Derek watched Scott's retreating body as he walked up to his door. Tonight had been a good night. He had taken a risk and broken the routine. Hell, he had stripped in front of Scott, and he was pretty sure that Scott had been interested. But he needed to know for sure.

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The rest of the week progressed as the whole month had with Derek trying to read beneath Scott's surface, attempting to detect signs and scrutinize them until his head hurt. There were plenty of hints: a glance that lasted a little longer than normal, the snap of Scott's head from his body to his face when Derek turned his way, their banter and playfulness.

Scott had even come over to Derek's house every day that week, continuing their effort on the song they had been working on. But none of it brought Derek any closer to an actual answer.
Does he like me that way?

Although Derek, Scott, and Beck had agreed to meet up at Derek's house at 6:00pm to go to Josh's party together, Derek waited until Friday's Latin class to ask Beck to come over a bit earlier so they could talk. He hadn't had much time to spend with Beck since her rehearsal schedule had picked up considerably and he needed to talk.

Beck showed up at around 4:00pm. After spending an obligatory few minutes with his parents, who hadn't seen Beck in ages, they headed up to Derek's room. Beck lay on his bed while Derek took his desk seat and placed it so he could face Beck while resting his feet on the bed frame at the same time.

"So," Derek asked, "How's it going with Bryce and line rehearsals?" It was a lame conversation opener and he knew it, but he wasn't sure how to broach the topic of Scott with Beck yet.

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Beck raised an eyebrow and tilted her head so she was staring directly at Derek. "Are you trying to tell me that you invited me to come over early so you could ask me about my rehearsal schedule?"

Derek shrugged his shoulders and widened his eyes giving his best impression of an innocent puppy dog. "We haven't spent much time together lately and I just want to know how things are going with you."

"Bullshit!" He was startled by the force Beck used when she said it. "Something's on your mind and you want to talk about it. So talk!"

"Ok, fine Mrs. ESP Mind-Reader lady." Beck lay back down with a smug grin on her face. "It's Scott..."

"I
knew
it. You are in love with him and obsessing, aren't you?" Beck's statement was delivered plainly enough, but her facial expression was hard to read. Her grimace could have indicated frustration or bemused acceptance. He wasn't sure.

"Well, we've been hanging out for over a month now and I'm not making any headway towards figuring him out. I mean, if there were no signs at all, I would already have assumed he's straight, gotten over it, and moved on. But there
are
signs." Derek paused and stared at Beck for a moment. Now that he was sharing with Beck, everything became real. The problem with real was that it could go either way. It could turn out that his sense was correct and that Scott was also gay. Or, it could turn out that he was seeing something because he wanted to. Something that wasn't really there. Either way, making it real ended the fantasy of what could be.

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He was brought back to the moment by Beck's voice. "Ok, I am going to indulge you completely for this conversation, but I want to be frank. I'm worried about you. You are heading straight down the road to Hurtsville and I don't want to see that happen to you." Beck settled into a more comfortable position. "So, what are these alleged signs?"

"
That's
supposed to be indulging me? You sound like you've already made up your mind that I'm nuts."

Beck sighed. "All right, fine! Tell me what you've observed.

I'll be open-minded." Derek looked at her through slightly narrowed eyes. "I
promise.
Look," she made a circular motion around her head, "mind open."

Satisfied that Beck was as ready to hear what he had to say as she was going to get, Derek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The words came spilling out of him. The compulsion to get it out of his head was not simply to prevent Beck from interrupting, but also to cleanse his brain. "Well, on the first day we met, after our run, we locked eyes for longer than you normally lock eyes with someone, then he glanced away and left pretty suddenly. The other day I had him over here and was showing him my mixing stuff upstairs and we were having an awesome time. He was really getting into it and we locked eyes again, but this time he didn't drop his gaze. He's come over every day this week to mix music with me. Also, I think I've caught him checking me out a couple of times and when I look at him, his head shifts suddenly and I swear I catch him blushing afterwards. And then there is his way of talking about his feelings and opening 91

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up. None of my other guy friends are like that at all. I know it's weak, and I sound like I'm digging, but..."

"Pro-JEC-tion!" Beck trilled the final syllable of the word dramatically. "Babe! Locked eyes. Furtive glances. Opening up. Come on. You can't really think that adds up to him being gay and into you, can you? First, you don't have open conversations with guys because your guy friends are Neanderthal jocks." Derek began to protest but Beck lifted a halting hand and he promptly closed his mouth. "Second, Scott is from Iowa. People are different from different places in the country. For all you know, everyone in Iowa sits around and pours out their innermost feelings at the dinner table just before saying
Amen
and digging in." Derek laughed out loud at that one. "And finally...glances at each other? You have to do better than that."