Chapter 11
The end of November was fast-approaching. As Christmas got closer, I was absolutely determined to get Ryan the perfect gift. He deserved it, after everything he had done for me. I wanted to give him something special. Something from my heart. And, not my "Dick In A Box", either, you sickos. I had seen him eye-balling various hats to add to his collection, but he'd always wind up shaking his head and buying me a thirty dollar t-shirt instead.
Charlotte was the only one of our group at Berkeley who saw how distracted I was by this. She pulled me aside in the hallway and asked, "Troy, you're taken, aren't you?"
"Yeah," I answered.
"Well, she's a lucky girl, whoever she is."
"Actually," I rubbed at the back of my neck, ""she's" a he."
"Really? Troy, I never would have thought! How adorable!" She exclaimed. I knew I wasn't wrong to tell her.
"Uh, thanks," I replied. "And for the record, Char, I'm the lucky one."
"Well aren't you just the sweetest thing!" Her eyes glowed as she flung her arms around me in a brief embrace. I'm eternally grateful that Jake wasn't there to see that. I prefer keeping my dick. I still kind of need it. That, and I'd hate to upset him with a stupid misunderstanding. "So, you want to get him the perfect present, right?" Charlotte asked. Girls are so intuitive sometimes, it's almost freaky.
"Right." I filled her in on Ry's interests, fashion, theater, reading.
She tapped her chin in thought. "Why don't you get him a gift card? That way, the two of you can go shopping together!"
"That's a great idea!" A burst of excitement filled me. "Thanks a ton, Char!" The excitement quickly fizzled out as another thought of importance hit me. I could feel the smile disappear from my face.
Charlotte's smile also disappeared as she caught on. "You don't want anyone else to know."
My brows knitted together in frustration. "Being an, "out", athlete is risky. Ryan doesn't want me taking any risks that could get me hurt." Did I want to proclaim for the world to hear that I had the best boyfriend ever? Yeah. But I had no idea how the rest of the guys on the team would handle that knowledge. Nothing would ever be the same, showering, playing… they'd never look at me the same way again.
-Hard Knock Life-
I walked down the hall with Jake next to me, informing me of his WoW accomplishments. Further down, I could make out a group of people and the sound of mocking laughter.
"Hold up, Jake." I held out a hand, signaling for him to stop while I went on ahead.
"Wha-?" He froze for a second and then followed me.
A boy in skin tight jeans and a Lady Gaga t-shirt was being pressed into a locker by a much bigger boy, a blond with a familiar douchey cowlick. Cody Westmore.
I raced over to them. "What's going on?!" I demanded.
"We're helping this faggot with his books," Cody replied. With a swipe of his hand, he easily knocked the smaller boy's books right out of his grasp. He let out a snide laugh.
"Si," Victor Rodriguez chimed in, "all is bueno, eh, maricón?" He slapped the poor boy on the shoulder almost hard enough to knock him over.
Jake went rigid beside me. I didn't have time to figure out why. Cody turned to us, his brown eyes gleaming. "Hey, Bolton, Parker, why don't you give us a hand?" He edged in closer to his victim, the boy flinching away like he was just waiting to feel a punch or slap stinging on his face.
I pictured Ryan in the boy in the Gaga shirt's place, his blue eyes wide with terror, and something inside of me began boiling. "NO!" I barked, clenching my fists to keep from punching Cody Westmore in the face.
"Aw, what do you have a crush on this faggot, Bolton?" Cody gave me a rough shove, an ugly sneer creeping across his mildly attractive features.
I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to shove him back. "No," I answered him, leveling my voice. That poor boy he was harassing didn't need to be afraid of me as well. Still, the injustice of everything pissed me off. Where the hell is a teacher? I wondered. Doesn't anyone give a shit?!
My fists were clenched tightly, almost tight enough for my nails to break through the skin on my palms. At that moment, almost nothing would have satisfied me more than knocking that arrogant smirk right off of Westmore's face.
Jake must have recognized this from the look on my face, because he stepped between me and that self-serving asshole. "H-Hey, come on now, guys!" He protested weakly.
"What about you, Parker?" Cody prodded Jake's chest.
"Yeah," Victor simpered, "you Bolton's butt buddy?"
"Lay off, man!" Jake retorted.
"Hey!" A deeper voice cut in. I turned to see Mr Cornell, the Human Anatomy professor, wearing his usual suit and tie, coming toward us. "Let's move it along, here!" He ushered the group of us along.
Muttering an insult that sounded pretty close to, "stupid fag", Cody and his posse booked it.
I turned to Jake, and gestured with a nod for him to follow me. Shaking with barely disguised anger, he did. If Mr. Cornell hadn't showed up when he did, I'm pretty sure things would have escalated and more than a couple of us would have been walking away with more than a heated temper and an unsatisfied urge to pound someone's face in. As Jake and I pulled ourselves back together, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the nearly victimized boy kneel to recover his books.
He caught my eye, the fear in his eyes somewhat quelled, and gave me a nod as if to say, "Thanks".
I didn't think I deserved any.
- 21 Guns-
The moment I came through the apartment door, Ryan gave me a once over before inquiring , "Troy, what's wrong?"
I'm pretty sure that I wouldn't have told my parents what went down. I would have given them the instant shut-out response that, "Nothing", was wrong and I was, "fine". I wouldn't have been comfortable trying to discuss this with Chad. But with Ryan, it just poured out of me. The whole damn thing, even the way I wanted to punch Cody, and felt like I didn't deserve any credit for defending the poor kid those assholes pressed into the lockers. Even their teasing about me and Jake. Instinctively, I found myself looking to Ryan for advice.
I watched him chew the inside of his mouth, his brows crinkling in thought. "…Normally…" he said slowly, "I'd tell you to avoid those primitive-minded bastardizations of a man like a plague of locusts…"
We searched each other's faces tentatively. And suddenly, I didn't want any practical advice. I just wanted to forget the whole thing had happened for a while. And, with as much dependability as the sun rising after the night, he totally and completely understood that. I pressed my lips to his, letting his taste wash everything away… my shame… my fury. When we broke off, he nuzzled into my shoulder. "Is delivery pizza alright for dinner?" I asked, my voice soft.
"Yeah," he nodded and kissed my cheek.
Later, when the delivery guy came, I'm pretty sure the dude was surprised to see me answer the door with my shirt on inside out, and my fly partially undone. He looked over me, recognizing and probably relating to, my lightning fast dressing.
"Party on, dude," he attributed with a nod. I'm pretty sure he would have air-guitared too, if he wasn't holding a pizza box.
"Uh, rock and roll," I replied. I did an awkward strumming motion, then forked over the money.
I told Ry while we were eating that the delivery boy was probably a huge hit at parties.
He let out a "pft" of laughter and said, "I'll be sure to invite Napoleon, Abe Lincoln, Joan of Arc and the Grim Reaper."
I laughed, probably too hard, and pecked him on the cheek, messing up the tilt of the pageboy cap that he put back on for whatever reason.
When I had Ry in that dazed-sleepy state of half arousal that's both hot and totally adorable, from me kissing at his neck and stroking him from the chest down, kneading his lean dancer muscles, he opened up about his day. Just like earlier, where the roles were reversed, the whole story poured out of him.
"We were presenting our original compositions today," he began. "As usual, Gustav volunteered to go first."
Gustav. That kid Ryan picked out from the start as the most egotistic and self-serving in his class. I had a bad feeling about where this story was headed.
"He brought two girls who were obviously infatuated with him on stage; one to be his pianist, the other his partner."
I nodded.
"The pianist took her seat at the piano. She played a few chords to start out, a couple of resonating low notes and tinkling high notes. As she played, I noticed something familiar about the base melody. Gustav gave a signal to the lighting crew, and they threw a single spotlight on him and the other girl, Alicia."
I rolled my eyes at the, "single spotlight", thing. It seems to be something all divas want.
"That didn't stop the nagging feeling that beneath all of the tweaking that had been done to it, I knew the melody of the song. And then, Gustav began singing passionately." Ryan paused to sit upright.
When he sang, he adopted a French accent, and lowered his voice to imitate Gustav.
The stars up above
And the moon in the sky
Are just a glimmer in
The corner of my eye
My heart missed a beat. I knew that song. It began coming together.
Ryan looked complete revolted. "Kelsi turned to me and caught my eye. She was so indignant, she looked like she was ready to tear Gustav's head off. Luc and Celeste gave me looks of horror." He slumped back down on the bed, lowering his voice. "I just wanted to throw up."
A tidal wave of disgust hit me. "That bastard!" I growled. "That's about as low as you can get!"
Ryan remained silent. After a second, he said, "I couldn't accuse him of stealing "Scintillate" from me. I lost my hand-written copy." He crossed his arms over his chest like he was protecting himself. "I searched, and I couldn't find it anywhere."
"That's not your fault," I told him, laying down behind him. I reached out and rubbed his shoulder and arm, trying to keep him from shutting me out and himself in. "I mean, how could you have known that he'd wind up with it?"
A moment went by. He let out a soft sigh, and then eased into me, pressing his backside to my front. "You're right."
"He'll get his due, just you wait. And we'll find your song, Ry. Or we'll write a new and even better one. We'll write it together."
"Yeah." I could tell from his voice that a faint smile was on his face.
I nuzzled into the back of his neck and felt his spine arch into my chest before relaxing.
"Well, judging from the audience's reaction," he said, "at least I know it was a hit."
Not able to respond to that, I hugged Ryan tightly, and focused on inhaling the sweet scent on the back of his neck, hoping that it would help me fight back the urge to vomit.
-The Bells-
Chris Jeffers advertised while toweling himself off in the locker room, that he was having a party at his house, and everyone on the team was invited.
Jake told me that he was feeling isolated from the team by the, "Cody", incident. I felt the same way, but I rationalized that going to this party might help ease tensions. My dad always told me teams cooperate better and have a better sense of unity when they spend more time together, getting to know each other. I wasn't thrilled at seeing Cody and his asshole friends outside of school. I reminded myself to look on the bright side, though. I'd be able to hang out with Jake and Marcus. I had to ask myself if bringing Ryan along was worth the risky situation I'd be putting him in.
When I told him about the party, he replied, "They'd have better luck keeping vultures off of a carcass than preventing me from going with you."
I squeezed him tightly, a smile on my face and a feeling of dread eating at me. Looking back, I realize he could have picked a less morbid analogy.
-Stop and Stare-
Ryan and I held true to our promise and kidnapped Kelsi. She was staying in a dorm on campus and it wasn't hard to find her, snatch her up in spite of her giggling protests, load her into the rental car and bring her back to the apartment. We invited Scot and Marceline to meet her.
"Who's this?" Marceline asked. In her boots, she was several inches taller than Kelsi.
"Marceline, this is Kelsi Nielsen. She's a friend of ours from back home."
"Pleasure to meet you, Kelsi." Marceline extended a hand.
"Pleasure's all mine!" Kelsi shyly took the hand and shook it.
Scot was next to greet Kelsi. As he did, Ryan told me later that he noticed Scot staring for several seconds longer than customary when meeting someone for the first time. "I'm Scot," he finally said smoothly.
"Hi," I recognized the familiar pink creeping across Kelsi's face.
Ryan and I shared a knowing look.
Scot and Marceline spent some time conversing with Kelsi, getting to know her through her responses and the extra tidbits that Ryan and I threw in. Scot seemed particularly interested in the fact that Kelsi's a composer.
Together, Ryan and I casually informed him that she wrote the music for two of our high school plays.
"Can I paint you sometime?" Scot asked.
Kelsi stiffened, the pink darkening on her cheeks.
Marceline turned away, hiding a smile.
Does she see it, too? I wondered.
"Composing, I mean." Scot added. His near monotone had a lot more life to it.
"Um, sure! I mean, yeah! Okay." Kelsi replied.
"Great." Scot gave a half-nod and smile. I have to admit, he has a nice smile, although it doesn't impact my heart like Ryan's does.
"His pieces are incredible, honey," Marceline said with pride. "Would you like to see them?"
Kelsi looked quickly from Scot, to Ryan, to me. Ryan and I gave her a nod of encouragement. "Yeah," she responded, ducking her head bashfully. We all filed out, following Marceline out the door and into the apartment across the hall. The front room had some dark colored vintage furniture, and a dark blue carpet. The glow of a black light lit up some posters of Metallica, Evanesence, and other bands that I didn't recognize. On the back wall where most people probably would have set up their TV set, they, instead, had a shelf full of CDs.
"Here it is," Marceline announced, "casa del Marceline y Scot."
"It's very…" I started.
"…You!" Ryan finished.
"Scot's art exhibit is in here." She lead us into a room off to the left of the living room, or whatever the black light room was. As we entered the studio, I felt my jaw dropping open in awe. Canvases filled the room, decorated by images of tigers, wolves, cabins on a lakeshore… totally off the hook.
Ryan's eyes were wide, like a kid in a candy store's. I could tell that Kelsi was floored as well. She walked toward a painting of a horse's head and took in the lifelike details of its fur and mane.
"These are amazing, dude," I managed to get out. A depiction of two wolves trudging through a snowstorm caught my attention.
"Thanks."
Near the wolves was a picture that I instantly recognized as a slightly younger Marceline. In addition to getting her appearance down, her also got her personality; fierce, intriguing.
"I could spend hours in here," Ryan conveyed with a dreamy sigh from somewhere behind me.
"You're extremely talented," Kelsi looked up from the horse and over to Scot. "Why haven't you sold any of these yet?"
"Marceline asks me that same question all the time." Scot smiled indulgently.
Marceline gave him a playful shove. "I keep him telling him all the time how much money he could make off of even one of these paintings. I even put that tiger one," she nodded toward a picture of a tiger, its fur damp, climbing out of a river and onto its banks, "on Ebay, just to see how high it would bid for. Someone was willing to offer $300 for it just so they could hang it in their living room. But, being the stubborn ass he is, he refused to sell it."
"Why?" I asked.
"I've considered it," Scot replied. "But sometimes, I just get… attached, I guess." He looked at the picture of Marceline.
Kelsi nodded. "After working with a piece for so long, putting so much of yourself into it, it starts to feel like part of you, and…" She cut herself off, timidly turning back to the portrait.
Scot tilted his head, then moved to stand near Kelsi and the horse picture. He inclined his head to her, studying her face with interest.
"What?" Kelsi asked, as if his intent stare unnerved her.
"You have pretty eyes."
Blush flared on Kelsi's cheeks. "I do?"
"Yeah. And, that's not all."
I turned to Ryan and smiled. I had finally managed to, "get into touch with my feminine side."
A/N: Let me know what you guys thought of this installment. Next chapter, things come to a climax.