Part 2.1: Steers and Queers
Author's Note: Part Two is longer than I thought it would be, and therefore comes in two parts. The second part should be uploaded within the next forty-eight hours. Part Three should be posted by next week. I apologize in advance for the lack of Greg, but trust me when I assure you that he returns. Enjoy.
"This fall I think you're riding for - it's a special kind of fall, a horrible kind. The man falling isn't permitted to feel or hear himself hit bottom. He just keeps falling and falling. The whole arrangement's designed for men who, at some time or other in their lives, were looking for something their own environment couldn't supply them with. Or they thought their own environment couldn't supply them with. So they gave up looking. They gave it up before they ever really even got started." --J.D. Salinger, The Catcher in the Rye, Chapter 24, spoken by the character Mr. Antolini to Holden Caulfield
"Nicky! Would you come down for dinner already?!"
Just about to nip at a cat's tail in his dog form, the door to his room burst open, and his sister's voice really made its presence known.
"Don't make me unplug that thing, Nick," she warned, glaring at him with sharp brown eyes.
Nick chewed on his lip and tried to get just a little closer before Eve marched into the room and turned off the system.
"Aw, man!" Nick yelled. "I was almost to the next level!"
"Mouse Trap is a stupid game anyway," his sister said with a playful smile. "How come you never play Pac-Man?"
"Because Atari screwed up the graphics."
"Nick, don't use that language in this house, you know what Mom and Dad would say about that."
He rolled his eyes. "Fine. What's for dinner anyway."
"Spaghetti."
"Again?" he whined as he followed his sister out of the room, kicking his copy of Night Rider out of the way of the door.
"What do you mean? I thought you loved spaghetti."
"Not eight nights in a row," Nick mumbled as he followed Eve downstairs. They approached the living room, where Abby, Matt and Luke were already eating. He saw two empty chairs. "Mom and Dad working late again?"
"You bet, so you can afford those video games of yours," said Eve. She pointed at a chair by Abby. "Now sit and eat."
Nick dutifully slid into the chair next to his sister and slowly began to eat the stale spaghetti. He was certain it was leftovers from yesterday. He wondered how much spaghetti Eve would make at a time.
"How was work today?" Eve inquired softly, making Matt look up at her and wipe some sauce from his mouth.
He shrugged. "It was OK."
"Did you catch any criminals?"
"The usual."
"You know, Matt, it takes two to have a conversation."
Matt sighed and leaned back in his chair. "To be honest, it was pretty slow. They don't let me do much, being the rookie and all. Plus, Dad checks on me every other second."
"He's just proud of you, that's all," said Eve with a snide smile. "I, on the other hand, know better."
"Oh, shut up, Eve," Matt muttered, turning back to his food. "We don't need you here anyway, so you should just go home."
"I like having Eve here," Abby chimed. "Just like I like having you here, Matt. I don't think either of you should leave."
"That's sweet, Abby, but the birds have to leave the nest someday," Eve said pointedly, looking at Matt. "Judy already has a place to stay when she graduates this year. Rebecca's gonna stay with her, too, just until she finishes school. Judy still has a way to go, what with med school and all. Why is it that the women in this family aren't the clingy ones, Matt? Can you tell me that?"
"I'm not clingy," Luke muttered with his mouth full.
Eve smiled sweetly at him. "Trust me, Luke, if you're anything like your brother, you will be."
"Why do you do this every night, Evey?" Matt asked, with irked eyes. "You always gotta pick on me. Dad loves having me here. I think that's what bothers you. You know I'm his favorite."
"How could you possibly be his favorite? You're a slob."
"Can we not talk about this please?" Abby begged. "I hate watching you two bicker over day-old spaghetti."
"Yeah, Eve, when are you gonna make anything different?" Matt spat. "Some babysitter you are."
"I'm not a babysitter, I'm the oldest," Eve snapped.
"And without you, I'd be the oldest, and I take damn good care of this family."
"Matthew!"
"Evey!" Matt returned, mockingly. He turned back to his food. "I'll say whatever the fuck I want."
"Not in front of Nick and Abby, you won't!" Eve said, jumping to her feet.
"Please, it's not like I've never heard it before," Nick muttered inaudibly, making Abby giggle.
"I think you've had enough dinner for tonight, Matt," Eve said coldly.
"Evey, don't be like that," Abby pleaded. She looked to Luke for assistance, but he was his usual taciturn self as he continued to eat as if nothing was going on.
"No, Abby, I think she's right. If I eat anymore of this shit I might get sick. Hey Nick!" Matt called, making the youngest look up. "You wanna help me restore the GTO out in the garage?"
Nick's eyes lit up. "Sure!"
"You're not going anywhere, Nicky," Eve said suddenly, glaring at Matt. "Finish your dinner."
"Who do you think you are? Mom?" Matt laughed. "Eve, you're not so smart, just because you're getting a PhD. If I wanted to, I could have gotten a PhD."
"Oh really? In what? Being a... a jerk?" Eve returned indignantly.
Matt snickered. "Jesus won't hate you if you call me an asshole. I am an asshole. I know it. And these kids look up to me for it, don't you guys?"
Luke gave a grunt of approval. Abby shrugged. Nick was the only one to be verbal about it. "Sure do, Matt!"
"Thank you, Nick," Matt said with a nod. "Now come on. The GTO is waiting."
With a grin on his face, Nick leapt up from the table.
"Nicky, sit down!"
"Would you stop calling him that? You make it sound like he's a girl," Matt whined. "Quit emasculating him."
"Ooh, emasculating, that's a big word for you, isn't it?" Eve said snidely. "Did you just learn it today?"
"Fuck you!"
Eve glowered at him. "I'd like to see you use that language in front of Mom and Dad!"
Matt just rolled his eyes. "Dad worships the ground I walk on. I could do no wrong, so far as he's concerned. As for Mom, she just smiles and nods. Wait 'til I tell them what a bitch you've been these past few nights."
Next to him, Nick heard Abby grumble. "Here we go again." He watched as she pushed her plate away and rested her head on the table. Eve and Matt continued to fight, but they were no longer the focus of Nick's attention.
"What's up, Abby?" he inquired. She was the closest to him in age, only a year older than him, and it kept the two of them close.
"I'm so tired of their fighting," she groaned. She turned her head on the table, her blonde hair falling into the plate of spaghetti. Out of all of them, she was the only child with blonde hair. Nick's father said it was because of their Aunt Susan, and something about recessive genes. But the young teenager didn't know anything about genes. At least, not yet.
"Well, Matt's always been confrontational, you can't help that."
"It's not just him, listen to her go off about it too," Abby muttered. "And yet, when we all go to church on Sunday, we hold hands and pretend that we all love each other. I just wish we could be like that all the time, you know? Maybe if Becky and Judy were here..."
"Nah, that wouldn't help. They'd just take Eve's side and make Matt lash out more."
"Nick!"
The youngest Stokes gave a start at his name and saw Matt striding over to him and seizing his arm with great force. Nick allowed himself to be pulled out of his chair and off toward the garage as Eve called after them.
"For goodness sake, Matthew, it's 1986, not the fricking Stone Age!"
"You'd feel better if you said 'fucking,' Evey!" Matt called and then disappeared with Nick in the garage. Matt flipped on the lights and pulled out the toolbox, popping the hood. Nick eagerly assisted him, holding the toolbox in his lap as Matt bent over the hood, reconnecting the engine.
"She's gonna be beautiful when she's finished," Matt said proudly.
Nick agreed. "You've done a good job on it, Matt."
"I'm doing a damn good job," Matt said, glancing at Nick with a smirk.
The door to the garage opened and Eve stood there, looking like she wanted to say something, but she instead growled, turned around and left.
Matt rolled his eyes and snorted. "What a bitch."
"She means well," Nick said, trying to stand up for his sister.
"The girl's never done a damn thing in her life," Matt muttered. He asked for a wrench and Nick handed him one. "She thinks she's so smart because she is an expert in Shakespeare and shit. As if knowing Shakespeare will get you anywhere in life. How are you doing in school, Nick? Breaking lots of hearts, I hope."
"Er... I don't know, maybe," Nick muttered with a shrug. "I haven't thought much about girls."
"Aw, well you should, man," Matt said with a laugh. "I mean, you know... be smart and all that. God wants you to save yourself and everything. Or at least use a condom."
"Right," Nick muttered, nodding. "Actually... do you think Evey will be mad if I told her I'm failing English?"
Matt tossed his head back and laughed and tousled Nick's hair. "Oh, she'll be furious. Go and tell her. Can I watch?"
Nick rolled his eyes. "Ms. Wilson says I need a tutor. I was hoping Eve might do it."
"She'll say she doesn't have time, which is code for she doesn't want to," Matt muttered. "Why don't you try someone from your school? A cute girl, perhaps?"
There was the sound of a car on the driveway and doors slamming and Nick leapt to his feet. "Mom and Dad are home!" he declared before racing back into the house just in time to see his parents come through the door. Abby and Eve came into the room too. Eve was drying off a dish.
"Hey, guys!" Mr. Stokes declared, throwing his arms open and hugging an eager Abby. "Where are Matt and Luke?"
"Luke's upstairs in his room. Matt's in the garage," said Eve.
Mrs. Stokes sighed as she hung up her coat. "It was a long day."
"Busting bad guys?" Nick chimed.
Like Matt had done earlier, Mr. Stokes ruffled Nick's hair. "You betchya, Poncho."
"I guess that's my cue to leave, then," said Eve with a smile.
"That's right, sweetheart, you head home," said Mrs. Stokes. "We'll take things from here."
"Will you be back tomorrow?" Abby asked.
"You bet, Abigail," Eve said with a smile.
"Nick, your English teacher called me today," Mrs. Stokes said warningly.
Nick shuffled on the spot. "Actually, I was going to ask Eve to tutor me."
"What? Are you having trouble in English?" Eve sounded like this was a personal insult. "Nicky, I would love to tutor you, but—"
"You have no time," Nick interrupted, dejectedly.
She smiled apologetically. "Your high school has a great tutoring program. Maybe you could find someone there."
"And no girls!" Mr. Stokes said sharply. "I don't want any pretty face distracting you from your work."
"Yes, sir," Nick said, nodding.
"I'll call Mrs. Palmer, from work," said Mrs. Stokes. "Her son is a junior in AP English. I'm sure he'd like the extra cash."
"OK, Mom," Nick said, nodding.
"I want him to start on Monday, is that OK with you, Nicky?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Tony Palmer was not a very broad teenager. His frame was slight, but he was on the swim team, so his muscles were still quite defined, just not very large. His slender frame allowed him to torpedo through the water at break-neck speeds. And Nick found himself mentally mapping out every curve of it as the boy spoke of Harper Lee. A mop of light brown hair fell across his forehead, almost obscuring his eyes. His toned arms bent at the elbow and rested on the table as Tony leaned on them, his voice clear and strangely melodious as he talked about Atticus Finch, Scout and Jem, Mayella Ewell and Tom Robinson, and of course, Boo Radley. For the first time ever, Nick found himself actually engaged in literature, fascinated by the words and stories that poured out of Tony's mouth as the older teen explained ninth grade literature to Nick.
"So the title," Nick began slowly, eager to impress but afraid of being wrong, "is in reference to that line that Atticus says, about how it's a sin to kill a mockingbird..."
"Right!" Tony exclaimed with a proud grin. "And why did Lee decide to title the book that?"
"It's an... allegory?" Nick guessed. Tony pursed his lips and began to shake his head, when Nick fell over himself trying to find the right word. "Allusion! It's alluding to what happens with Tom Robinson..."
"And again with Boo Radley," Tony added. "What does it mean?"
Nick struggled to grasp the meaning. "It means that... we shouldn't... be so quick to attack others who aren't doing any real harm to us. It means that if we... do that... then... we're the monsters."
Tony was triumphant. "Exactly!"
Nick sighed with relief, warmth flooding his body, unsure exactly why he felt so pleased with himself whenever he made Tony happy.
"I think we should start on The Catcher In The Rye today," said Tony, pulling the book out of his bag. "Have you started it?"
"Aw, I tried," Nick said, squirming, and it was the truth. "But it was hard. It wasn't that interesting, the beginning was slow. Also, Joby—that's the neighbor's dog, he..." Nick felt his face flush, but he wasn't sure why. "He kind of ate it. I swear, it's not an excuse, Luke had borrowed my bag and he had a ham sandwich right next to the book and—"
Tony smiled and leaned across the table, pushing his copy of Salinger's novel into Nick's hands, who took it, his hands shaking. "You can have mine," said Tony.
Nick opened the worn copy, which had scattered notes in the margins, and looked up at Tony in awe, as if the man had just given him something priceless. "I couldn't..."
"Why not?"
"You've written in it!"
"Well yeah, I think that'll help you," Tony said with a laugh. "I've underlined key passages and made note of recurring themes in the margins. Catcher is one of my all-time favorite books, Nick, and I want to share that with you—" He seemed startled at this confession and his smile faded slightly. He was flustered and tried to make up for it, running a shaky hand through his hair. "I mean, I want to help you understand it, you know. For class."
"Right," Nick said, nodding vigorously as he felt his heart rate increase. "Yeah. I get it."
Tony sighed with relief. "Good." He rose to his feet and gathered up his papers. "Well, I guess I'll see you next week then..."
"Maybe... we could hang out before then..." Nick said slowly, cautiously. Tony froze, and then a small smile crept across his features.
"Yeah... Yeah, I'd like that. You know, Highlander just came out, I heard that was pretty good."
Nick pursed his lips. "Yeah... that sounds great."
Over the next few days, Nick diligently kept up with his reading, and was almost done with the novel by the time he met up with Tony to go to the movies later that week. Something had felt intrinsically right, sitting there in that dark theater, next to that beautiful boy. Both of them had seemed to have dressed up a little nicer for the occasion. Nick wore his Ray-Bans and his best jean jacket, hoping against hope that he looked as cool as the guys on TV. In the movie theater, he could tell that Tony had put on a little too much cologne, but the thought of it only made him smile. After the movie, they had decided to hang out at a nearby arcade for a few hours, playing a few video games and sharing a pizza.
By the time the next week rolled around, Nick had read The Catcher in the Rye twice, and was ready to dazzle Tony with his knowledge. He was playing his Atari when Tony knocked on the door and entered the bedroom. Nick immediately switched off the game system and moved to the desk, where Tony sat next to him.
"I finished the book," Nick said proudly. "I know it inside and out now."
"You do?" Tony sounded impressed. "So why don't you tell me about it."
"It's about growing up!" Nick declared, excited that he had come up with that all on his own. "Holden doesn't want to. That's why he keeps wandering around for most of the book. He doesn't know where he can go where he can remain a kid. So he goes to see Phoebe."
"That's great, Nick!" Tony exclaimed. "It's only been a few weeks, and already you're a master of Harper Lee, and you really have a good grasp of Salinger too." He reached out and tousled Nick's hair playfully. "I'm so proud of you."
Nick couldn't help but beam as the heat rushed through his body just from the sheer proximity of Tony Palmer. It took Nick a moment to realize that Tony's hand had fallen from Nick's hair and rested on his shoulder, his thumb moving back and forth against the neckline of Nick's Phish T-shirt. Nick didn't know why, but he really didn't want Tony to pull away. But as if Nick's thoughts were the cause of it, Tony took a deep breath and withdrew the hand, which fell into his lap, and he fiddled with them there.
"So what do you want to discuss?" Tony asked after a while, trying to hide a stutter. This was unusual, because Tony normally had a list of themes and motifs to go over about the novel.
"Um... I don't know, where do you think we should start?" Nick probed. He moved his chair slightly closer to Tony's.
Tony looked up, his face flushed. "We could... start with... Holden..." he said slowly, his eyes alight. His hand moved to grip Nick's knee, sending electric tingles throughout the young teen's body.
Nick leaned closer, trying to show Tony that he wanted this. "Do we have to talk about the book?" he whispered.
Tony's grin broadened and he shook his head, his other hand flying to Nick's face, and their lips crashed against each other, sloppily and unskillfully. Nick had never been kissed before—not by anyone he'd wanted to kiss him—but he had always wondered how it would feel, someone else's lips crushed up against his, someone else's tongue probing his mouth. It felt strange at first, but oh so excitingly awkward, and Nick wanted to learn all the tricks. He wanted to explore, to adventure into this crazy world of teenage hormones, and he wanted to do it with Tony Palmer.
The chair legs scraped against the floor, and they both rose to their feet simultaneously, their lips never breaking contact for more than a second. Tony's hands wrapped around Nick's torso as their chests pressed against each other and they both stumbled back to Nick's bed. Nick fell backwards, his hands moving down Tony's shoulders, charting out the grooves in his toned chest beneath Tony's shirt with his fingertips. Tony straddled him, his lips finally breaking away from Nick's to travel down the younger teen's neck, and Nick found himself entangling his hands in Tony's hair, hugging the older teen's head against his neck, closing his eyes, somehow instinctively knowing what to do. He was overflowing with wonder and passion and want, and he needed to be as close to Tony as possible. He had never before felt so connected to another individual, and his mind was reeling until the sound of his bedroom door opening penetrated his thoughts and Tony was no longer on top of him.
The older teen had rolled onto his side and was trying to catch his breath as he looked at Nick with feigned innocence. Startled, his heart racing, Nick looked from Tony who was lying next to him, to the person who stood in the doorway, watching them both with a classically inscrutable expression.
"Nick," said Luke calmly, his voice steady, as if he had seen nothing. "Eve says time for dinner."
"Oh..." Nick mumbled. "Yeah. Tony and I were just... talking about... Holden Caulfield. Did you ever read The Catcher in the Rye, Luke?"
"No," Luke said succinctly.
"Well you should," said Nick, amazed at how out of breath he sounded.
"I think you should go home now, Tony," Luke said.
Tony chewed on his lip and nodded. Nick could sense him shaking as the older teen moved off of Nick's bed and collected his things.
Luke turned back to Nick. "Be downstairs in two minutes, or I'm sending Matt up."
Nick nodded and the door slammed. He turned to Tony, breathless. "What was that?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Tony as he shouldered his backpack. He looked at Nick, his face as blanched as chalk. "You... I mean, did you... like it?"
Speechless, Nick could do nothing but nod. "I've been... thinking about you a lot."
Tony laughed, lightly, still in shock. "Yeah... yeah, me too, but... we shouldn't do this here. Not with your family around."
"No," Nick agreed. "I'll... I'll meet up with you tomorrow? On Saturday? We could chill at the arcade."
"Yeah, that sounds awesome," said Tony, nodding. "I'll see you tomorrow... Nick." He smiled, and then was out the door. Nick waited as he heard his steps echo as he ran down the stairs. And then, Nick came out of his room and went down to dinner.
"So how was studying?" Eve asked him conversationally when he arrived, over yet another plate of spaghetti.
"It was great," Nick said cheerily. He heard Luke snort, but tried to ignore it. "I'm really getting it now. This literature thing. It's not as boring as I thought."
Eve beamed at him. "I'm glad to hear you say that, Nicky. I love books."
"Too bad it's illegal to marry them," Matt said with a smirk.
"Shut up, Matt," Eve groaned.
Nick saw Abby roll her eyes, but the youngest girl said nothing.
"With good reason, too," Matt pointed out. "You know there are folks who would marry their dog if it was legal? I swear, if these aren't the signs of the apocalypse, I don't know what is. Do you think the world will end in the year 2000, Evey?"
"No," Eve said simply. "And even if it does, I believe God will deliver us."
"He damn well better," Matt muttered. "I'm a good Christian, I've paid my dues. He needs to keep me away from all those heathens and faggots—"
"Matt, watch your mouth," Eve warned.
Nick's heart sank as he tried to swallow the spaghetti in his mouth and found it difficult. Luke's eyes were on him, scrutinizing.
"Do you ever wonder if maybe the Bible is wrong?"
Eve stopped and set her fork down as she looked up in shock at her baby sister. "What do you mean, Abby?"
The blonde squirmed under her big sister's gaze. "I mean... just some things..."
"Who's been putting ideas into your head?" Matt demanded. "I'll deck their ass so fast..."
"Like, you swear, Matt. Even though Mom and Dad and the Bible and everyone says it's wrong."
"There isn't nothing in the Bible that says I can't say the word fuck whenever I want to," Matt said with a clever smirk. "Because 'fuck' wasn't a word in Jesus' time."
"But I'm sure if it had been, they would have forbid its usage," Eve pointed out. "Abby, if you have questions, you can always talk to Father Miller this Sunday. God will guide you home."
"Well I mean... just... some things don't make a whole lot of sense..." Abby squirmed in her chair.
"Like I said, you can take this up with Father Miller on Sunday," Eve said, as if that were the end of the conversation.
Abby sighed and gave up, sulking in her chair, her eyes resting on the spaghetti. Nick watched her momentarily until she looked up at him. He looked sharply away again. His attention was drawn to Luke again, who was leaning close to Matt and whispering something in the eldest brother's ear. Nick watched Matt's expression harden, and then, strangely, curl into a hideous smile as he responded to Luke's words.
"There are no secrets at the dinner table!" Eve said sharply.
"OK, we'll stop," Matt agreed.
"What were you two whispering about?" Abby asked.
"The Bible," Luke muttered, before stuffing his face full of spaghetti.
After dinner, Matt said that he and Luke were going to play some night basketball. Nick volunteered to help Eve wash the dishes and Abby said she was going upstairs to her room to write in her journal. A little while later, their parents returned home.
"I guess I'll be leaving then," said Eve.
"Hold your horses, Eve," called Mrs. Stokes. "Your father and I both have trials tomorrow. I know you have your own life, sweetheart, but it would really help if you could stay the night tonight. Both of us will be up really early tomorrow, and it makes us feel a whole lot better knowing you're here with your brothers and sister."
Eve nodded, and so she stayed over, bunking in Abby's room, which, once upon a time, used to be her room. Nick fell restlessly to sleep, dreaming of the next day when he would see Tony again.