Chapter 5: Talking It Out
*****
September 20, 1996
Last night keeps replaying
itself in my mind. Got me yelled at when I couldn't pay attention in biology,
but that's all right. What Mrs. Madigan doesn't know is that I never
pay attention, my acting was just off today.
I really need to talk to someone.
I can think of four options. First, there's Charlie. He's the captain, after all, he's supposed to be there to help his team. And after the rumors at the Jr. Goodwill Games, one would think he'd be understanding.
But Charlie's not a plausible candidate. He's too busy bitching about not having his stupid C. Whoa, did I say that? I'm getting a little more irritated than I should be.
Second option is Banks, again because of the rumors at the Games. Again, not plausible, because he's a Varsity jock and wants to kill me.
Third option is Russ, since after all, he did say I could talk to him. But you do not go up to the object of your affections, especially when said person has a girlfriend, and tell him you're in love with him, what should you do about it. A third option that doesn't work.
And that leaves the most expensive, but most sensible, person that I could talk to. I'll call Don.
I'll do it later. Russ is gone, working on his biology project. I should be doing the same. Banks and I decided we'll just each do half of the work on our own over the weekend, then bring it in on Monday and put it all together as best we can.
See, Varsity's invited us to dinner tonight. And while he doesn't know anything for sure, and I don't know if Charlie's got anything planned, we're both expecting not to be on speaking terms afterwards.
Eden Hall was supposed to be such a great opportunity for the Ducks. So why are we all breaking apart? Maybe I should call Don now... before I think too much and get depressed.
*****
I get out my cell phone and dial. I know the number by heart. I wonder what the other Ducks would have to say about it, though? I mean, Don Tibbles is kind of an odd person to have as a father figure. But ever since he convinced me to start playing hockey, that's exactly how I've seen him. Strange.
"Hello?"
Good, that's him. "Hey Don, it's Ken."
"Ken, hi! How's it going? Liking school so far?"
"No." It comes out more forcefully than I intended, but I know he won't take offense, he's heard it enough before. Even now, he's the one I come to with my problems. He doesn't mind my venting.
"Trouble with the Ducks?"
Perceptive, too. "All sorts of trouble." And thus begins the rant. "Our new coach split the team up, Charlie's all ticked off because he's not captain anymore and he's taking it out on the rest of us, Banks is my biology lab partner but he's on Varsity and he's probably gonna kill me, and I've got a crush on someone but he's taken."
I stop, realizing I probably need to breathe. Don manages to get one word in. "He?"
Did I say that? Oh well, I was going to get to it eventually. "Well... yeah. There's that, too. I've got a crush on somebody who's not only taken but he's straight."
There's silence on the other end of the line for a long, long time. Maybe I was wrong, I should've kept my mouth shut.
"I don't know what to tell you about that," he says finally. "I can try, though. Is he a Duck?"
"Yeah. Russ..."
I can hear his frown. "I don't know Russ very well. He spent some time with you this summer though, didn't he?"
"Right."
"You're still good friends with him?"
"Yeah..."
"Then tell him."
That was definitely the last thing I expected to hear. "You're kidding. Right?"
"No..." I was afraid of that. "If he's really your friend, he'll understand. And maybe once you've told him you won't feel so bad about it. Give it a shot."
What's the point in asking for advice if I'm not gonna take it? "All right."
"Good. Call me back and let me know how it turns out, okay? Now about your problems with Charlie..."
*****
I sit on my bed, waiting for Russ to get back. Dreading it. I know I promised Don I'd tell him how I feel but I don't want to, and I keep hoping something will happen. Something to get me out of it...
It's a little over an hour before we're supposed to leave for dinner. Maybe he won't get back before then. Maybe, just maybe...
I decide to spend the time working on the biology project, but I've hardly started when the door flies open. "Hi Russ."
"Hey, Wumeister!" Wow... he's in a good mood. Do I honestly want to do this? Stupid question. But especially, do I want to do this now? He answers my question for me, though, probably noticing my less than enthusiastic non-reaction to his arrival. "Something wrong, Kenny?"
"N—" The reflex refusal dies almost immediately. "Well, yeah."
He doesn't say anything, but I know I'm expected to talk now, and I lose my nerve so fast it isn't funny. How do I get myself into these messes?
Start with the basics, Kenny. "Well... y'see..." Don't be so nervous! There's no need for that. He's your friend. "I've been thinking and... IkindafiguredoutI'mgay." Way to go Ken, such confidence, such poise...
He stares at me for a long moment. Oh hell, now I've done it. What was I thinking? There's just no way in hell this is going to go over well, no way at all...
And he laughs.
I'm sure I'm giving him the oddest look I'm capable of, but it doesn't seem to bother him a bit. After a few minutes he regains his composure. "Is that all you're worried about?"
What's he mean is that all? "Yeah..."
"Well, good. At least I'm not the only one."
"WHAT?!" I discreetly pinch myself. Hard. Several times. If it seems too good to be true, it probably is. Okay, so maybe he's gay, even if he has a girlfriend, which I'll have to ask him about when I regain my composure. In that case, he's probably already taken.
"Sure. I've known for a long time now." Shrug. "It's the way I am. What's the problem with it?"
I look for something to put off the confession. "But don't you have a girlfriend? What about that girl you've been going off with all the time lately..."
He favors me with a you're-not-very-observant-are-you look. "My lab partner? Girl, yes. Friend, yes. Girlfriend? Hardly." And he flashes me a wide grin. "She's just not my type."
I laugh in spite of myself. "So who is your type?"
He shrugs again. "Still working on that one."
It is too good to be true. Has to be. We stare at each other for a moment, and we both come out with the same thing.
"Want to go to a movie tomorrow?"
We both laugh, slightly nervous, but not really. He answers first, in a higher-pitched falsetto than should be legal... "I'd absolutely love to, darling." At that one we both crack up.
"We should probably get ready to go," I observe after a bit. He groans at the prospect—dinner with Varsity! I share his sentiment, but I don't want to make them even madder by not showing. Besides, Charlie wouldn't forgive us for that either.
But... with the prospect of a date (is it a date? Is now) tomorrow, I don't think I could care less what goes wrong tonight.
