It's a normal night in, filled with history homework and the usual distraction of social media. A night like many others, I don't except my life to shift so quickly after one FaceTime with Buffy.
"Cy, have you seen the new post on JeffersonScandals?" Buffy asks excitedly, her face lighting up my screen.
"No, why?" I say, not bothering to look up from my homework. "I swear if you tell me about another slimy hookup, I'm hanging up on you."
"About the closeted gay kid at school." She says rolling her eyes.
I bolt upright in my bed. "What?"
"Who do you think it is?" she asks as I rush to my desk and open my laptop to the school's Tumblr. "I bet it's Andrew Miller. I get this vibe from him. I don't know. He screams gay panic to me."
"I... I gotta go. Kovu just knocked over the lamp into my bookcase." I say in a hurry.
"Aww, poor kitty! So curious." Buffy squeals.
"Can I call you back later?" I hang up before she can answer. I scroll down to a picture of a swing set with the sun setting in the background.
"Sometimes I feel like I'm stuck on set of swings. One minute I'm flying through the air towards the sun the next gravity plummets me back towards the ground. Again and again, every day. Most of my life is pretty great, except no one knows I'm gay. I guess I have stuff.
-Lemon Boy"
This post throws me into a frenzy. My heart is hammering in my chest. I have to know him. It's like he took the words right out of my head. I quickly open a tab to create a new email address. I stare at the open page struggling with what to write. How exactly do you talk to a stranger over the internet without coming across as a creepy serial killer? I run a hand through my hair and blow out a breath. Keep it simple, Cyrus. Don't be weird, don't be weird. You got this.
FROM: inaveilfullofsurprises
TO: lemonboy918
DATE: Aug 19 at 7:31 PM
SUBJECT: Hi
Dear Lemon Boy,
I just read your post on JeffersonScandals. I'm just like you. My life is perfectly normal. My parents are child psychologists. And, no, they don't "shrink" me. They're actually pretty cool about letting me come to them at my own pace about things. And my friends, well two of them I've known my whole life. Or at least since second grade. One of them I just met a few years ago, but it feels like I've known him forever. We do the normal friend thing. We veg out on baby taters, watch a little too much tv, and hang out at the Red Rooster shuffling through music and dreaming of college. So, like I said everything is normal, right? But nobody knows about this part of my stuff. This HUGE part. It's just like you said about the swings. I'd like to add that sometimes it feels like when someone gives you an underdog. Some moments are so perfect that when I realize no one knows it feels like everything is out of my control and the earth is going to swallow me whole when gravity takes me.
I can't think of a name to sign this with so I'm just going to leave it here. I hope to hear from you.
.
I wake up the next morning after a sum total of five minutes of sleep. I couldn't stop freaking out after hitting send. I've reread my email over and over. I hope it's not weird, but after the fifth time I regretted it. I should have proofread the heck out of it first instead of impulsively sending it. I should have come up with a freaking name at least. Then, of course, I worried about him not writing me back. Or it somehow getting out that I wrote it and the whole world finding out.
I check for a response as I'm getting ready. Nothing from Lemon Boy, just a Welcome to Gmail message. I shrug on my backpack and hurry down the stairs to the kitchen. Dad is sitting at the breakfast table with his kindle and a cup of coffee. I put my bag on the back of a chair. "Morning." He says not looking up from the paper open on his tablet.
"Morning, Dad." I say, walking to the fridge for some orange juice.
"Want a waffle?" Mom asks, waving a box of Van's kosher toaster waffles in my direction.
"Sure, but I have to take it on the run. I'm late to pick up the Good Hair Crew." I check my watch. I have roughly four minutes left at the house.
Mom pops one in as I sip on my juice. "Don't be too late tonight. The Franklins are coming over for dinner and a game of charades."
"I'll try my best. Jonah asked me to come over after callbacks today to help him with our science project." Complete lie. Jonah and I don't even have the same science class. I just really need an excuse to get out of the monthly ordeal. The Franklins have a daughter my age that my parents have subtly been trying to set me up with since I was fifteen.
"I'm sure Jonah will understand, son." Dad replies.
I grab the freshly popped waffle. I take a big bite, "Sure. I'm gonna be late.". I practically run to my car.
Pulling into Jonah's drive way first, I park just long enough for him to get in the back and buckle up. "Dude, I had the weirdest dream last night."
"You're always having weird dreams. You forget I'm not an actual psychiatrist. I can't decode them for you." I laugh as I drive down the road and into Buffy's driveway.
"Hey!" Buffy greets as she slings herself into the seat beside me. "You never called me back last night."
"Yeah, sorry about that. It was weird night." I mutter, driving towards Andi's apartment.
"Yo, but my dream! We have to talk about this!" Jonah hollers from the back seat.
"Another dream? What was this one about? Hmm? Was it that nightmare about the Olsen twins again?" Buffy laughs, scrolling through her feed.
"Ugh, don't remind me of that! They were freaking VAMPIRES! I was scarred for life after that." Jonah shudders.
We pull into the parking lot of the apartment complex. I honk the horn twice. Andi runs out the door. Half way to my car, she pats herself. She holds up a finger and jogs back up the steps to her house. Bex opens the door grinning. She tosses Andi her phone then waves at us.
"Sorry, guys! It's been a crazy morning. I'm so glad you guys were late. Bowie tried to 'fix' the plumbing last night without warning us. Suffice to say, no one got a shower today." She giggles out of breath.
"No problem, Andiman, you still smell good to me." Jonah grins toward her. Buffy huffs beside me. "Anyways, back to my dream. It started out all normal. Like I was getting ready for school and stuff. I put in my contacts only I think I put them in wrong or something. Everything was a blur. I couldn't see anything. I tried to take them out, but I couldn't. Then I woke up. I feel like maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me I'm not seeing something."
"What could you not be seeing?" Buffy asks, looking back at him.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm kind of oblivious. It could an endless list of things." Jonah sighs.
"Huh, weird. I don't think it means anything." I blurt out and turn the music up. The rest of the ride is filled with stories and laughter. But I can't seem to participate. My mind is whirling with the idea of my secret being what he can't see.
The first half of the day goes by in a haze of useless information and constantly checking my phone. At lunch we sit at our designated table. Jonah, Andi, and I on one side facing Buffy and her basketball friends Marty and TJ. Occasionally, TJ's sister Amber joins us, but this is pretty much the core group. I'm checking my phone for an email from Lemon Boy yet again.
"Cyrus. Cy. Cyrus." TJ waves gently from his half of the table grabbing my attention. "Fries?"
"Oh, yeah. Go ahead." I mutter. He gives a small smile as he grabs a few of my fries. "This place has like no service." I groan.
The GHC give me a look that I ignore as get up. I'm going to find service if it kills me. I'm walking aimlessly through the hallways hitting refresh again.
"Cyrus, Cyrus. I'll take that." Dr. Metcalf says as he pulls my phone from my hands. "You know better than to have this out during school hours. You can have it back after the second half Peter Pan callbacks."
"Dr. Metcalf, please. I was just trying to get ahold of my mom." I blush as I lie.
"Well, your mom isn't going anywhere. You know where to get this later." He says and walks off towards his office.
Crap.
Callbacks were fine. I got the priced role of Lost Boy # 3. Which means no lines whatsoever. Andi walked away with the role of Tiger Lily. Amber, of course, got the staring role of Wendy. Ms. Speight is great. She has a take no crap attitude and a sense of humor. I figure this will be the least painful extracurricular I could ask for. Plus, Andi will be there.
After getting another lecture about phone usage on the school premises, I finally had my 'precious' back. I rush back to my car. Opening the Gmail app, I see a new message.
FROM: lemonboy918
TO: inaveilfullofsurprises
DATE: Aug 20 at 4:35
SUBJECT: RE: Hi
Dear Underdog…