A million thanks again to Charligirl for being the best beta-reader in the
whole world. You're awesome.
Chapter 3
"Chris, please let me in," Gordie yelled desperately, pounding on Chris's door an hour later. "I know you're in there! Open this door right now!"
"So you can yell at me for being a pussy fag?"
"No, you asshole, so I can talk to you without a door in my face!"
"No."
"Why the hell not?!"
"Because." There's no way in hell I'm letting Gordie see me cry, Chris thought to himself behind the solid oak door.
Gordie swore quietly and slunk down the door to sit on the porch. "All right, fine, Chris. Have it the fuck your way. But you will hear this, no matter what you think. I will talk to you through this goddamned door if that's what it takes."
Silence.
"All right. I'm talking."
More silence.
"Chris, I want you to know that I heard every damned word you said. Every single goddamned word."
"So now you're taking pleasure in teasing me, is that it, Lachance? Jesus Christ, if you had any decency you'd leave now!" Chris hollered through the door.
Gordie sighed and flipped up the mail slot to look at Chris sitting in an armchair in the front room. "My God, Chris, have you been crying?" Gordie asked in surprise, catching sight of Chris's red, puffy eyes.
"No, the Tooth Fairy visited, and beat the shit out of me. I didn't even see it coming. And to add insult to fucking injury, she gave me pink eye. Life's a bitch, huh?"
"Chris, will you stop being such an asshole and let me in?"
"No."
"You're really going to make me talk to you through this mail slot, aren't you?" Gordie asked, nose wrinkled. Chris nodded.
"Start talking."
Gordie took a deep breath. "I just went home and did a lot of thinking, Chris."
"Must have been hard, all that thinking business."
"Dammit, Chris, I am trying to talk to you!"
"All right, fine. Go on."
"Anyway, I realized that you're my best friend in the whole world. And I came to the conclusion that I don't care if you're gay, straight, or a fucking hermaphrodite who gets his sex kicks out of dead people."
"That's a necrophiliac, Gord."
"I know. Shut the hell up and let me finish." Chris nodded. "As I was saying, I realized that I didn't care that you were gay. But apparently you'd set your sights on me."
Chris flung a rubber band at Gordie, hitting his fingers and making the mail slot slam shut as Gordie cried "Ow!" in surprise. "I'm not sure I want to see your face when you say the next part."
"Chris, whatever I feel, I promise not to ever do anything that would make you hire a hit-man to take me out." That was romantic, Lachance. Geez, try and make him feel good, not like a gangster.
But surprisingly enough, Chris laughed shakily. "Thanks, man," he said, and the next thing Gordie knew, Chris was over at the door, holding the mail slot open and looking Gordie in the eye.
"Chris, let me in. Please."
Chris let out a huge, fake sigh and opened the door. Gordie stood up, dusted off his legs, and darted inside, sitting on the couch.
Chris came and sat next to him, his shoulders touching Gordie's.
"I've given this a lot of thought," Gordie began softly, and Chris swore he could taste his breath. Mmm, bubblegummy. . . great, I'm in love with someone who still uses bubblegum toothpaste. . . what the hell am I thinking about toothpaste for?
"I would never make a decision without considering all of your feelings," Gordie continued, totally oblivious to Chris's mindless ramblings about toothpaste. Get to the point, Lachance, Chis begged silently. How long can it take to find the right words to break someone's heart?
"So, I was thinking. . . " Gordie, PLEASE just say it and get the hell out of my house so I can slit my wrists.
"I was thinking maybe we can make this work."
Chris's jaw dropped. Of all the things in the entire world Gordie could possibly have said just then, that was just about the very last one Chris would ever have thought of.
"Really?" Chris asked, and was surprised at how very girly his voice sounded when he squeaked things. "Y-y-you ain't s-s-shittin' me?" Christ, Chambers, if anyone could ruin this moment, it's you.
But Gordie's eyes were still warm and caring as he said, "Really."
Chris was operating numbly here. Part of him- Part A- kept insisting that Gordie was being Gordie: sympathetic and willing to sacrafice almost every bit of his own comfort for his friends. But another part- Part B, the one he really wanted to believe- figured that Gordie really wanted to be with him, that there was a chance that Gordie wasn't "straight as an arrow".
Go to hell, Part A.
Chris wrapped Gordie in his arms and kissed him. The kiss was light and tentative, just in case Gordie didn't really want this, but after a few seconds, it was obvious that Gordie was definitely kissing back. So Chris deepened the kiss. When they separated, he resisted the urge to jump up and cheer.
"That wasn't bad," Gordie commented, as if he were talking about the weather. "Not bad at all."
Chris didn't know what to say, so he looked down. But then a thought occurred to him, and he looked up. "What if Eyeball finds out?"
"Well, then he'll kick both of our asses and probably castrate us. But you know what? I don't really care."
Chris grinned and kissed his friend again.
"Awww," came a voice from the doorway. "I guess I was wrong."
Both of them looked up, quickly disentangling themselves, to find Justi standing in the doorway. Gordie scrambled away from Chris, staring, apoplectic, at the ex-girlfriend that he still didn't get along with. This is great. Justine's going to murder me for hooking up with the boy she still holds a torch for. Oh, God, she could kick my ass! Gordie wrung his hands, muttering something about "checking Chris for cankersores".
"Chris, I came over here to say I was sorry and that there might be hope, but it doesn't really look like you're lacking in that department. . . And Gordie, for the love of God, close your mouth. You're collecting flies."
Chris's face softened at the sight of his friend, and Gordie knew he was fighting the internal battle that was Chris Chambers. Half of him wanted to forgive and forget, but the other part had been hurt deeply enough by her words not to want to talk to her.
As usual, peacemaker Chris won out, and he smiled. "It's okay, Justi. I guess it wasn't really your fault."
Gordie noted Chris's subtle lack of an apology.
"Go for ice cream?" Justi offered. "My treat."
Gordie and Chris looked at each other and nodded.
"I guess we can bring ourselves to gorge on junk food spending your money," Chris said heavily, and Justi laughed.
"Good. We've got to hurry, though- the ice cream place closes at eight."
And so the three of them came to be walking down the sidewalk to the ice cream parlor. Twilight had lengthened their shadows, and Chris had taken to kicking the same rock from his driveway to their destination.
"So," Justi asked quietly, away from the crowd, "are you two. . . you know. . ."
Chris looked at Gordie. He hadn't given any thought at all as to their status, only the fact that they had kissed. Twice.
Gordie nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
"How can you not know?" Justi exclaimed in exasperation. "Men! Christ!"
"Well fine then. We are. How's that?" Gordie scoffed.
"Better."
Chris sat there, munching his cone silently.
"What are you thinking, Chris?" Justi asked after a little while.
"I'm trying to decide whether it's worth it to try and tell Teddy and Vern."
"Ha. They'll kick your ass."
"They couldn't kick my ass."
"They'll hire people to kick your ass."
"You think so?" Chris asked thoughtfully.
"Uh, yeah," Justi replied. "They'll kick my ass, too. We'll have to go into hiding and live in Saudi Arabia as camel farmers to escape their Mafia of Love."
Gordie and Chris looked at her with raised eyebrows.
"Or maybe not."
Gordie shook his head. "Your best friend is a moron, Chris," he remarked, inspecting the hole he had bitten into the bottom of his cone and slurping the ice cream through the hole in the bottom.
"What the hell are you doing?" Chris asked him, laughing.
"I dunno."
"Justi!" All three of them looked around to see Justi's younger sister, Emma, waving. "Mom says get your ass home or she'll beat you!"
"I'll tell on you for swearing!"
The littler girl's lip quivered in fear. "Really?"
"No, not really," Justi sighed. "Just let me finish this ice cream."
"No! You have to come home now or Mom'll spank both of us!" "God," Justi groaned, standing up. "I gotta go."
"Bye," Chris said, waving at her as she left. He looked at Gordie. "What time do you have to be home?" he asked.
Gordie grinned. "I told my dad I was spending the night at your house."
Chris grinned just as evilly. "Ha. Cool."
The walk home seemed infinitely longer than the walk there. It might have been the fact that Gordie tripped eight times, or the fact that Chris ran into five walls. The point was that neither boy was really concentrating on what he was doing.
Laughing at some pointless joke that wasn't even funny anyway, the two boys stumbled into Chris's house about twenty minutes later, and headed straight up to Chris's room.
"You wanna play cards?" Chris asked, almost shyly. He had been acting very. . . "unChris-like" all evening, in Gordie's opinion. Gordie had never pegged his best friend as the type who would clam up around his girlfriend. Slash boyfriend.
Chris let Gordie win twice, and then realized Gordie knew he was letting him win, and, on the third game, completely massacred Gordie.
"Wow. I didn't realize one person could be beaten as badly as I just was."
Chris laughed and sat up against a wall. "Yeah, get used to it, Lachance. My bitches get the whip. In more ways than one." Normally, both of them would have laughed. But tonight, the joke earned a weak chuckle out of Gordie, followed by a long silence.
"Look, Gordie," Chris said after a little while, "if I ever say anything that gets on your nerves, tell me, okay? I mean, I'm not good with words, and I---"
He got cut off by Gordie leaning over the cards and giving him the best kiss of his life. Sure, he'd been kissed by girls before, but this. . . this was great. While it lasted, at least.
"Well, if this isn't the cutest thing I've ever seen," came Ace Merrill's cold, harsh voice from the doorway. Both of their heads snapped up to look at Ace and Eyeball at the door. How could I have forgotten to shut that? Chris asked himself, panicked.
"Sure is, Ace."
End Of Chapter 3
Chapter 3
"Chris, please let me in," Gordie yelled desperately, pounding on Chris's door an hour later. "I know you're in there! Open this door right now!"
"So you can yell at me for being a pussy fag?"
"No, you asshole, so I can talk to you without a door in my face!"
"No."
"Why the hell not?!"
"Because." There's no way in hell I'm letting Gordie see me cry, Chris thought to himself behind the solid oak door.
Gordie swore quietly and slunk down the door to sit on the porch. "All right, fine, Chris. Have it the fuck your way. But you will hear this, no matter what you think. I will talk to you through this goddamned door if that's what it takes."
Silence.
"All right. I'm talking."
More silence.
"Chris, I want you to know that I heard every damned word you said. Every single goddamned word."
"So now you're taking pleasure in teasing me, is that it, Lachance? Jesus Christ, if you had any decency you'd leave now!" Chris hollered through the door.
Gordie sighed and flipped up the mail slot to look at Chris sitting in an armchair in the front room. "My God, Chris, have you been crying?" Gordie asked in surprise, catching sight of Chris's red, puffy eyes.
"No, the Tooth Fairy visited, and beat the shit out of me. I didn't even see it coming. And to add insult to fucking injury, she gave me pink eye. Life's a bitch, huh?"
"Chris, will you stop being such an asshole and let me in?"
"No."
"You're really going to make me talk to you through this mail slot, aren't you?" Gordie asked, nose wrinkled. Chris nodded.
"Start talking."
Gordie took a deep breath. "I just went home and did a lot of thinking, Chris."
"Must have been hard, all that thinking business."
"Dammit, Chris, I am trying to talk to you!"
"All right, fine. Go on."
"Anyway, I realized that you're my best friend in the whole world. And I came to the conclusion that I don't care if you're gay, straight, or a fucking hermaphrodite who gets his sex kicks out of dead people."
"That's a necrophiliac, Gord."
"I know. Shut the hell up and let me finish." Chris nodded. "As I was saying, I realized that I didn't care that you were gay. But apparently you'd set your sights on me."
Chris flung a rubber band at Gordie, hitting his fingers and making the mail slot slam shut as Gordie cried "Ow!" in surprise. "I'm not sure I want to see your face when you say the next part."
"Chris, whatever I feel, I promise not to ever do anything that would make you hire a hit-man to take me out." That was romantic, Lachance. Geez, try and make him feel good, not like a gangster.
But surprisingly enough, Chris laughed shakily. "Thanks, man," he said, and the next thing Gordie knew, Chris was over at the door, holding the mail slot open and looking Gordie in the eye.
"Chris, let me in. Please."
Chris let out a huge, fake sigh and opened the door. Gordie stood up, dusted off his legs, and darted inside, sitting on the couch.
Chris came and sat next to him, his shoulders touching Gordie's.
"I've given this a lot of thought," Gordie began softly, and Chris swore he could taste his breath. Mmm, bubblegummy. . . great, I'm in love with someone who still uses bubblegum toothpaste. . . what the hell am I thinking about toothpaste for?
"I would never make a decision without considering all of your feelings," Gordie continued, totally oblivious to Chris's mindless ramblings about toothpaste. Get to the point, Lachance, Chis begged silently. How long can it take to find the right words to break someone's heart?
"So, I was thinking. . . " Gordie, PLEASE just say it and get the hell out of my house so I can slit my wrists.
"I was thinking maybe we can make this work."
Chris's jaw dropped. Of all the things in the entire world Gordie could possibly have said just then, that was just about the very last one Chris would ever have thought of.
"Really?" Chris asked, and was surprised at how very girly his voice sounded when he squeaked things. "Y-y-you ain't s-s-shittin' me?" Christ, Chambers, if anyone could ruin this moment, it's you.
But Gordie's eyes were still warm and caring as he said, "Really."
Chris was operating numbly here. Part of him- Part A- kept insisting that Gordie was being Gordie: sympathetic and willing to sacrafice almost every bit of his own comfort for his friends. But another part- Part B, the one he really wanted to believe- figured that Gordie really wanted to be with him, that there was a chance that Gordie wasn't "straight as an arrow".
Go to hell, Part A.
Chris wrapped Gordie in his arms and kissed him. The kiss was light and tentative, just in case Gordie didn't really want this, but after a few seconds, it was obvious that Gordie was definitely kissing back. So Chris deepened the kiss. When they separated, he resisted the urge to jump up and cheer.
"That wasn't bad," Gordie commented, as if he were talking about the weather. "Not bad at all."
Chris didn't know what to say, so he looked down. But then a thought occurred to him, and he looked up. "What if Eyeball finds out?"
"Well, then he'll kick both of our asses and probably castrate us. But you know what? I don't really care."
Chris grinned and kissed his friend again.
"Awww," came a voice from the doorway. "I guess I was wrong."
Both of them looked up, quickly disentangling themselves, to find Justi standing in the doorway. Gordie scrambled away from Chris, staring, apoplectic, at the ex-girlfriend that he still didn't get along with. This is great. Justine's going to murder me for hooking up with the boy she still holds a torch for. Oh, God, she could kick my ass! Gordie wrung his hands, muttering something about "checking Chris for cankersores".
"Chris, I came over here to say I was sorry and that there might be hope, but it doesn't really look like you're lacking in that department. . . And Gordie, for the love of God, close your mouth. You're collecting flies."
Chris's face softened at the sight of his friend, and Gordie knew he was fighting the internal battle that was Chris Chambers. Half of him wanted to forgive and forget, but the other part had been hurt deeply enough by her words not to want to talk to her.
As usual, peacemaker Chris won out, and he smiled. "It's okay, Justi. I guess it wasn't really your fault."
Gordie noted Chris's subtle lack of an apology.
"Go for ice cream?" Justi offered. "My treat."
Gordie and Chris looked at each other and nodded.
"I guess we can bring ourselves to gorge on junk food spending your money," Chris said heavily, and Justi laughed.
"Good. We've got to hurry, though- the ice cream place closes at eight."
And so the three of them came to be walking down the sidewalk to the ice cream parlor. Twilight had lengthened their shadows, and Chris had taken to kicking the same rock from his driveway to their destination.
"So," Justi asked quietly, away from the crowd, "are you two. . . you know. . ."
Chris looked at Gordie. He hadn't given any thought at all as to their status, only the fact that they had kissed. Twice.
Gordie nodded. "Yeah, I guess so."
"How can you not know?" Justi exclaimed in exasperation. "Men! Christ!"
"Well fine then. We are. How's that?" Gordie scoffed.
"Better."
Chris sat there, munching his cone silently.
"What are you thinking, Chris?" Justi asked after a little while.
"I'm trying to decide whether it's worth it to try and tell Teddy and Vern."
"Ha. They'll kick your ass."
"They couldn't kick my ass."
"They'll hire people to kick your ass."
"You think so?" Chris asked thoughtfully.
"Uh, yeah," Justi replied. "They'll kick my ass, too. We'll have to go into hiding and live in Saudi Arabia as camel farmers to escape their Mafia of Love."
Gordie and Chris looked at her with raised eyebrows.
"Or maybe not."
Gordie shook his head. "Your best friend is a moron, Chris," he remarked, inspecting the hole he had bitten into the bottom of his cone and slurping the ice cream through the hole in the bottom.
"What the hell are you doing?" Chris asked him, laughing.
"I dunno."
"Justi!" All three of them looked around to see Justi's younger sister, Emma, waving. "Mom says get your ass home or she'll beat you!"
"I'll tell on you for swearing!"
The littler girl's lip quivered in fear. "Really?"
"No, not really," Justi sighed. "Just let me finish this ice cream."
"No! You have to come home now or Mom'll spank both of us!" "God," Justi groaned, standing up. "I gotta go."
"Bye," Chris said, waving at her as she left. He looked at Gordie. "What time do you have to be home?" he asked.
Gordie grinned. "I told my dad I was spending the night at your house."
Chris grinned just as evilly. "Ha. Cool."
The walk home seemed infinitely longer than the walk there. It might have been the fact that Gordie tripped eight times, or the fact that Chris ran into five walls. The point was that neither boy was really concentrating on what he was doing.
Laughing at some pointless joke that wasn't even funny anyway, the two boys stumbled into Chris's house about twenty minutes later, and headed straight up to Chris's room.
"You wanna play cards?" Chris asked, almost shyly. He had been acting very. . . "unChris-like" all evening, in Gordie's opinion. Gordie had never pegged his best friend as the type who would clam up around his girlfriend. Slash boyfriend.
Chris let Gordie win twice, and then realized Gordie knew he was letting him win, and, on the third game, completely massacred Gordie.
"Wow. I didn't realize one person could be beaten as badly as I just was."
Chris laughed and sat up against a wall. "Yeah, get used to it, Lachance. My bitches get the whip. In more ways than one." Normally, both of them would have laughed. But tonight, the joke earned a weak chuckle out of Gordie, followed by a long silence.
"Look, Gordie," Chris said after a little while, "if I ever say anything that gets on your nerves, tell me, okay? I mean, I'm not good with words, and I---"
He got cut off by Gordie leaning over the cards and giving him the best kiss of his life. Sure, he'd been kissed by girls before, but this. . . this was great. While it lasted, at least.
"Well, if this isn't the cutest thing I've ever seen," came Ace Merrill's cold, harsh voice from the doorway. Both of their heads snapped up to look at Ace and Eyeball at the door. How could I have forgotten to shut that? Chris asked himself, panicked.
"Sure is, Ace."
End Of Chapter 3