Part 2
Quentin walked away from the field about twenty minutes later, his shoulders slumped. His suspicions had been totally confirmed by talking to David further. The boy was one hundred per cent heterosexual; there was no doubt about it. He felt terrible. Poor Gary. Having a crush on a heterosexual. That was always hard on a gay boy, because there wasn’t any potential for it to go anywhere. But it wasn’t always easy to get rid of those feelings, even if there was no hope. Oh well; all he could do was be there for his friend and support him in any way that he could.
“Hey,” a voice called out to him, and he turned to see another baseball player coming toward him. This boy had blue-black hair, somewhat pale skin, and striking grey eyes. Quentin thought that had looked like he had some Irish blood in him. “Umm, could I talk to you for a minute?”
Surprised, Quentin turned back. “Of course you can,” he said. “About what? The team?”
The boy shook his head. “No. It’s about…” he lowered his voice. “I mean, you’re…gay, right?”
Quentin’s lips twitched. “If I got any gayer, I’d pass Liberace on the All Time Biggest Queers List,” he said.
The boy stared at him, and then laughed. “Okay. Umm…the thing is…I’m…I think I’m kinda…”
“You think that you’re gay too,” Quentin said softly.
The boy nodded, looking unhappy. “Yeah. Sort of. I think.”
Quentin considered this. “Have you ever looked at pictures of guys on the internet? Guys with their shirts off, or maybe more?” he asked bluntly.
A twitch. “Yeah,” the baseball player whispered.
“Then, honey, you are gay,” Quentin remarked, although gently.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” the boy said, his shoulders slumping. “But the thing is – I mean – you’re completely comfortable with being gay,” he told Quentin.
“Yes, I suppose I am,” Quentin conceded.
“Well…I was wondering…if maybe…I could like…hang out with you or something? I need somebody to talk to!” he burst out, and then looked around rather wildly to see if anybody had heard him.
Quentin felt compassion for the poor boy’s plight. “Of course you can,” he said. “Although if you hang out with me, don’t you think that other people will figure out that you’re gay? Do you want that?”
“I don’t know. But that kid Corey Jackson hangs out with you, and he’s dating Amanda Harding now. I think people think that guys want to hang out with you because you’re cool and you know martial arts, not just because you’re gay and all.”
“Oh, I see. Well, one way or the other you’re welcome to come and hang at my house,” Quentin told him. “If you don’t mind my friend Gary being there. He’s gay, too,” Quentin explained.
“I think it’d be kinda cool to hang out with other gay guys,” the boy said.
“All right, then. How about tomorrow after school? What’s your name, by the way?”
The boy looked surprised. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, huh? I’m Patrick Malhoney. I’m the short stop,” he added, waving at the field behind him.
“Okay, Patrick. It’s nice to meet you. Here’s my address; anytime after five is good,” Quentin told him, handing him a piece of paper from his pad with his address written on it.
“Thanks. I really appreciate this,” the baseball player said fervently. “You’re really cool, man!”
“I like to think so,” Quentin said, fluffing his hair again. He grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Patrick.”
“Okay. See you then,” the boy loped away with a wave, while Quentin started again toward the parking lot.
But yet another voice stopped him in his tracks before he made it to his car, this one a familiar one. “Whoring for the baseball team?” Chet’s voice sneered from behind him.
Quentin turned around to confront the football player, who was standing nearby once again clad in his football uniform. “Maybe,” he said, setting a hand on his hip. “What’s it to you, big man?”
A disgusted look. “Typical fag,” Chet snarled.
“How would you know what a typical fag is, Chet? Since most of them hide themselves around you so that you won’t beat the shit out of them,” Quentin remarked coldly. “Although maybe that’s what you see when you look in the mirror?” he sniped, making Chet’s eyes fill up with anger.
“I told you before, I am NOT a fag!” the football player growled furiously.
“Surely. And the Pope isn’t Catholic,” Quentin purred. “You know what I think? I think that you’re jealous, Chet. That’s why you came over here to get on my case. You don’t want me to sleep with anybody else, right? That’s so sweet. I’m touched, really I am.”
Chet’s nostrils flared, and his hands flexed at his sides. “I’d like to touch you,” he said softly, menacingly.
Quentin smiled devilishly. “I’m sure you would,” he said. He ran a hand lasciviously down his own body. He smirked when he noted the way that Chet’s eyes followed its movement. “Touch me anywhere you want,” he said sensually, his eyes lidded and full of desire.
Chet was breathing heavily. His lip lifted in a snarl, like a dog’s would. But he only turned on his heel and left without a word, leaving Quentin standing in the parking lot behind him shaking his head in a combination of pity and disgust.
Quentin looked at Gary anxiously across the table in the cafeteria. “I’m sorry,” he said miserably. “But I thought I should tell you.”
Gary looked down at his half-eaten sandwich, his throat threatening to close up. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I never really expected anything to come of it anyway. It’s just…”
“I know,” Quentin said, reaching out to grasp his hand across the table. “And I really am sorry. I guess I just got cocky because things worked out so well with Corey and Amanda. I thought I could repeat it with you and David. I shouldn’t have tried,” he went on unhappily.
“No,” Gary surprised him by saying firmly. “I’m glad that you tried, even though it didn’t work out. Now I know that David likes girls, and I can try to get over my crush on him. It’s good to know one way or the other, rather than just futilely wishing and not doing anything about it. Thanks, Quen; you’re a good friend,” he added with a rather tremulous smile.
Quentin sighed and grasped his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “I try to be,” he replied. “And from now on, I swear that I’ll stay out of your personal business unless you ask me to get involved.”
Gary shook his head. “Can you actually do that? You really seem to like to…” he trailed off, not wanting to come off sounding rude. Especially not when Quentin had been so kind to him.
Quentin giggled. “Meddle? Interfere? Stick my nose in?” he tapped the end of his own nose, making Gary laugh in turn. “I admit it. I’ll just try not to meddle in anybody’s love life anymore, that’s all. Oh, hey – I’ve got another guest coming over tonight to hang with us.”
“Who?” Gary asked. He knew it wasn’t Corey – his friend was going on another date with Amanda tonight after track practice.
“A kid on the baseball team. He came up to me after I was finished ‘interviewing’ David, and said that he thought he might be gay. He just wants somebody to talk to...”
“Oh. That’s okay,” Gary said. “I understand wanting somebody to talk to,” he went on dryly.
Quentin smile. “Yes, definitely. Anyway, his name is Patrick Malhoney, and he’ll be coming over to my house sometime after five.”
Gary might have replied, but just then Corey came breezing up to them and plopped down in a seat next to Gary. “Hi, guys!” he cried. “What’s up?”
Quentin replied: “Not much, except unfortunately I found out that Gary’s crush is straight.”
“Oh, that David guy? I could have told you that,” Corey remarked with a shrug.
Startled silence, as they both gaped at him. “How did you know…that I have a crush on David Naylor?” Gary asked him after a moment.
Corey rolled his eyes in a good-natured way. “Oh, please. It was pretty obvious, Gary. You were always staring at him. But I didn’t say anything because I figured you wouldn’t want to know that he wasn’t into other guys.”
Quentin shook his head wryly. “I’m beginning to think that I’ve underestimated you, Corey,” he said in admiration. “You see a lot.”
Corey looked rather embarrassed. “Well, I guess,” he said.
“And you were wise enough not to tell Gary about David. I could kick myself, but I thought he should know.”
“I’m glad you told me, Quen,” Gary protested. “This makes it easier for me. Now I can try to get over him and maybe find somebody else. Somebody who hopefully likes other guys,” he went on wryly.
“That’s always good,” Quentin agreed. “I hope you find somebody, Gary.”
He smiled, only as little painfully. “Me, too,” he agreed.
“I’ll get it, Mom!” Quentin called, erupting out of his bedroom and down the hallway toward the living room and the front door. He heard her affirmative reply as he went past the kitchen, where she was laboring over snacks for him, Gary, and the new guest he’d told her he was expecting. Quentin opened the front door, revealing Patrick standing there looking rather nervous. “Hi,” the baseball player said.
“Hello, Patrick. Please come in,” Quentin replied, stepping back to let his guest walk past him.
“Thanks. I really appreciate this,” he said gratefully.
Quentin waved a casual hand at him as he shut the front door behind them. “Don’t worry about it, I like hanging around with other gay people when I can. I’ve nothing against straight people, mind you; my parents are straight, after all,” he added with a sparkling grin. “But it’s nice to be with ‘your own kind’ sometimes, too.”
“Yeah. I can’t talk to any of the guys on the team, they wouldn’t understand. They’d freak out and think that I wanted to kiss them or something, which I don’t.” Patrick remarked, shaking his head.
Quentin nodded as he led the way to his bedroom. “Yes. Straight guys always think that we gays are going to throw ourselves on them, when they don’t realize that most of the time we want someone who wants US, not someone who’s going to run away screaming if we come on to them. This is my room, and this is my friend Gary Finch. Gary, this is Patrick Malhoney,” he added for Gary’s benefit.
“Hi,” Patrick said as Gary looked up from his position on Quentin’s bed.
“Hi.” Gary replied a little shyly.
“Well, take a seat and get to know each other; I’m going to go and talk to my Mom about our snacks,” Quentin said, making shooing motions with his hands at the two of them.
He darted away, leaving Patrick and Gary staring at each other. “Umm…” Patrick said, not sure what to do or say.
Gary smiled. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he remarked kindly. “Quentin’s just always like that. Kind of over-energized. But he means well. Why don’t you sit down? There’s plenty of space,” he waved at the bed, which was pretty big and rather opulent. It had a purple and red silk coverlet with tassels on the edges. Patrick eyed these as he gingerly sat down on the bed. Then he glanced around Quentin’s bedroom in amazed disbelief. Gary giggled at his expression. “I know,” he said. “The first time I came in here I felt like I’d just taken acid or something. It’s…bright, isn’t it?”
“That’s one way to put it, yeah,” Patrick agreed. He glanced at Gary, studying him. “You’re one of the smart kids, aren’t you?” he asked. “In all of the hard classes. A total brain.”
For some reason, Gary felt his cheeks heat a little under Patrick’s thoughtful grey gaze. “Well, I guess,” he said. “I’m in a lot of hard classes, yeah. I want to go to college to study electrical engineering after I graduate,” he explained.
“Wow. That’s cool. I’m not that smart; I do okay, but I like playing baseball better than I do studying,” Patrick remarked with a self-deprecating shrug.
“Well, everybody’s different. And that’s fine; wouldn’t it be boring if we were all the same?” Gary said earnestly.
“I suppose you’re right. So…you’re gay, huh?” Patrick said next, still looking Gary over.
His cheeks definitely turned red this time. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Me too, I guess. I mean, it’s so strange to realize that you like other guys,” Patrick said rather glumly. “You don’t fit in, and straight guys always get all weird on you if you tell them, and everybody assumes things about you. Like they’d all want to know why I play baseball if I’m gay, since gay guys don’t like sports.”
“That’s just stereotypes,” Gary told him. “You can like anything you want; you don’t have to try to conform to other people’s ideas of what a gay person is like. If there’s one thin g that Quentin has taught me, it’s that we’re all free to be whatever and whoever we want to be. He doesn’t let anyone get in his way. And he just does whatever he wants. I like that. I want to be like him, and that’s what I’m trying to do from now on. Of course, I’m not going to wear make-up or dye my hair or get a wardrobe like his…”
Patrick laughed. “Definitely not. What the guys on the team would say if I showed up looking like that…but I get what you’re saying. And it makes sense. So…umm…do you have a…boyfriend, or anything?”
Gary blushed hotly, looking down at the startling silk coverlet. “No,” he said softly. “There was someone that I liked, but it turns out that he’s straight.”
“Oh, that’s harsh,” Patrick said above his head.
He shrugged unhappily. “It’s just life,” he replied glumly. “Not everybody’s going to be gay. I’ll get over it.”
“Yeah. That’s the only thing you can do, really,” Patrick noted. Silence, then he said tentatively: “Hey, Gary?”
“Yes?” he looked at last, glad the color had faded from his face.
Patrick’s gaze was steady as he said: “You’re one of only two gay guys that I know, the other one being Quentin. And much as I like him, I don’t LIKE him, you know?”
“Yes, I know. I felt the same way about him,” Gary said, wondering where this was going.
Patrick squirmed a little. “Well, I was thinking…that maybe we could…you and I…like, go on a date or something? I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he added hurriedly as Gary’s jaw dropped.
“You want to go on a date with ME?!” Gary exclaimed in disbelief.
Patrick looked puzzled. “Sure, why not?”
“But…I’m a nerd, and you’re a jock,” Gary began helplessly.
“What does that have to do with anything? Besides, that might mean something if there were a lot of people to choose from, but since there aren’t…” his shoulders lifted. “I just thought we could, you know, try it out. If it doesn’t work it, it’s no big deal. Right? But if it does…we could maybe be boyfriends or something.”
Gary felt breathless. This was not happening! A handsome jock had not just asked HIM out on a date! “Are you sure?” he gasped. “If people see us together, they might figure out that you’re gay…”
Patrick sighed. “If they do, they do. You’re right, we shouldn’t have to hide who we are. So what do you say? Could we go out on a date or something?”
Gary’s fingers spasmed in his lap. “W-we could do that,” he gasped, feeling dazed.
Patrick smiled, a dazzling sight that did bad things to his abdominal region. “Cool,” he said. “Hey, if we’re gonna go out, do you think we might…?” he stopped, looking a little nervous.
“What?” Gary asked.
As an answer, Patrick slid across the bed and kissed him! Gary was so shocked at receiving his first ever kiss that he froze, unable to move or think as Patrick’s mouth moved tentatively over his. It wasn’t a deep kiss, and it was more than a bit awkward – but it was a real kiss! When Patrick finally pulled back, he just sat there with his mouth open.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Patrick said softly. “Kiss another guy, I mean. Did you like it?” he asked anxiously.
Gary nodded, dumbfounded. ‘Like’ was too small a word for that, actually. Patrick grinned, looking happy. “Awesome. Then you wouldn’t mind if I do it again sometime?” he asked hopefully.
“No, I wouldn’t mind,” Gary managed to choke out.
Patrick looked pleased. Silence fell between them then, but it wasn’t a nervous or awkward one. Outside the open door, Quentin stood in the hallway holding a plate of cookies and smiled widely. He’d meant to enter his bedroom, but when he’d caught the gist of the conversation going on, he’d paused to give the two boys time alone. He was glad now that he had – this was better than anything he could have planned! Talk about hitting it off right away…he stifled a giggle at this thought, and ostentatiously made a lot of noise as he entered the bedroom. Quentin was flying high right now, and he wouldn’t have been any happier if HE’D hooked up with someone. Oh, well, maybe he might be a little bit happier if he hooked up with somebody, but since that didn’t seem like something that was going to happen anytime soon…
“So how’s it going with Patrick?” Quentin asked his friend. They were sitting outside eating their lunch together, since it was a nice warm fall day.
To his delight, Gary turned a little pink. “It’s going okay. We’ve been on two dates already,” he told Quentin softly.
Quentin grinned. “That’s great,” he remarked as he patted Gary’s slim shoulder like a proud mother. “So you two are hitting it off?”
“I guess. We still don’t know that much about each other. We’re taking it really slow. After all, we’re sort of dating because we’re the only gay guys – that we know of – at this school other than…”
“Me,” Quentin remarked in amusement. “It’s all right,” he added, flipping his fingers at his friend when Gary looked embarrassed. “I’m not to everyone’s taste, I know that. I’m just glad that you two are dating, and I hope that it works out for you guys.”
Gary smiled at him. “Thanks, Quen.”
“So,” Quentin continued, giving him a sly sideways look. “Has Patrick kissed you again?”
Gary’s face flooded with color, which made Quentin want to both laugh and pinch his cheek. “Yes,” Gary replied in a slightly choked voice. “Once. At the movie theater.”
“Did you like it?”
He nodded. Quentin patted his shoulder again. “That’s a start,” he remarked in satisfaction.
Quentin was feeling very pleased with himself as he opened his locker that afternoon. All of his new friends were happy (two of them with each other), so he felt he was doing his job right. Not that he’d really had much to do with getting Patrick and Gary together, but still…if he had never come to this school, and emboldened other gay boys to admit to their sexual orientation, then the two would never have hooked up. That’s how he chose to see it. He hummed to himself as he pushed his English book into his locker and kissed the tips of two fingers before putting them on the lips of the flamboyantly dressed man in the poster hanging on the door. ‘Ah, St. Adam Lambert, thy disciple has done well by thee’ he thought to himself with a cheeky grin.
He closed his locker door, but as he did so he felt a presence nearby. He whirled around, prepared to defend himself, but the person standing there took him completely by surprise. He blinked, looking into David Naylor’s handsome, apologetic face. “Hey, sorry I scared you,” the baseball captain said to him. “But I was hoping we could talk.”
Quentin cocked his head to the side a little. "About what?” he asked curiously.
David looked around at the students streaming out of the school now that the day was done. “Umm…could we go somewhere else?” he asked hopefully.
“Of course. How about outside by the bleachers? Nobody should be able to hear us there, if you don’t want to be overheard,” Quentin said.
“That’d be great,” David remarked. "It’s just…”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go,” Quentin said, making shooing motions with his hands. He was curious to hear what it was that David wanted to talk to him about.
Outside, they walked together toward the bleachers that surrounded the football field. Neither of them said anything until they came abreast of the back of the bleachers. Then David turned to him. “Listen, I need your help,” he began. “I can pay you if you help me with this thing I’m doing for Janelle…”
“Your girlfriend? How can I help?” Quentin asked curiously, setting a hand on his hip and gazing with interest (and appreciation) at David’s handsome face.
“Well, it’s our anniversary coming up,” David explained uneasily. “We’ve been dating for almost two years now. And Janelle…she’s like really romantic and stuff, and I’m…”
“Not,” Quentin finished for him, his lips twitching in silent amusement.
David nodded unhappily. “But I want to be for our anniversary,” he explained earnestly. “Because I know she’d like it if I was. But I don’t know what to do. All of this girly stuff, I just don’t get it. So I was hoping that you could help me figure it out…”
“Because I’m so girly,” Quentin said, his eyes gleaming with suppressed laughter.
David looked embarrassed. “Well…”
Quentin laughed openly. “I understand; its okay,” he said when he could speak again. “And I’d be glad to help you out, especially for a fee.”
David looked relieved. “Thanks,” he said.
Just then Quentin caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced sideways, and saw a familiar hulking figure emerging from the locker room. Chet was about to make his way onto the football field, presumably to start practice. Quentin got an evil urge. His eyes gleamed wickedly as he reached out to lightly touch David’s arm. He leaned in a little, which disconcerted the baseball captain, and said softly in a quasi-intimate tone of voice: “We can discuss the details of what you should do to be romantic for your anniversary at my house later. Don’t worry, my mom will be there,” he added as David began to look a little alarmed. “We can sit in the kitchen and we’ll make a list. Would that be okay?”
“Yeah,” David said, clearly still a little wary of Quentin’s strange behavior. “What time?”
“Any time after five. Here’s my address,” Quentin produced a pad of paper and a pen, jotted down his address, and with a last fleeting look to the side( the big figure had paused in its tracks and was standing very still), reached out to tuck it into David’s front pocket. He took a step back, looking like he was considering fleeing at any moment. Quentin contained a hoot of laughter only with difficultly, stepping back at last. “There,” he said in a more normal tone of voice. “I’ll see you tonight, David,” he added a bit more loudly, for the benefit of their auditor.
“Uhh, sure,” David bolted, obviously totally spooked. Quentin lifted a hand to conceal his mouth and giggled behind it. That had been such fun! He wondered if David would actually show up or not, considering how he’d just been acting. He shook his head a little and started back toward the school.
An enormous body got in his way. “Got another one on your line, fag?” Chet’s voice growled.
Quentin tilted up his head to meet the furious caramel-colored eyes. He admired them silently as he remarked aloud: “Why, Chet, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Naylor’s not gay,” Chet said in a low, hard voice.
Quentin lifted his brows slightly. “What makes you think that I don’t know that?” he asked.
“I saw you with him,” Chet said darkly.
Quentin huffed a little in amusement. “Did you? Spying on me now, Chet? Your jealousy is totally transparent. But I’m not cheating on you, big man, I swear,” he held up his fingers in the ‘scout’s honor’ gesture, making Chet glower at him even more.
“I’m not jealous,” the football player rasped. “I just don’t want you bugging a straight guy with your fag crap.”
“Ahh, I see. You’re doing this for David’s benefit,” Quentin remarked, tapping a finger against his full lower lip. “But I think that he can take care of himself, don’t you? And if he’s straight, nothing that I can do will turn him. Right? What are you so worried about? Think he might be on the fence, do you?”
Chet took in a deep breath through his nostrils. “No,” he said shortly.
Quentin shrugged. “So there isn’t a problem here, is there?” he asked brightly. “I can talk to the handsome straight guy all I like, without you having to worry that I’ll turn him gay. And David’s worth looking at,” he added, his lips stretching into a faintly lascivious smile.
Chet’s lip lifted in a dog-like snarl. “I see that you’re a slut as well as a fag,” he said angrily.
Quentin lifted a single brow this time. “Oh? How am I a slut? Wait, is it because I hit on you first? Do you see this as me playing around on you?”
“Naylor has a girlfriend,” Chet rasped, refusing to answer his question outright.
“Oh, I get it. You think that I’ll steal him away from her,” Quentin remarked. “And believe me, I am tempted. He’s fine,” Quentin purred. “Although not as fine as you, big man, so don’t sweat it. You’re still my first draft pick,” Quentin added with a saucy wink. “Do you want to sacrifice yourself to keep him out of my evil clutches?”
Chet’s face suffused with red. He took a step toward Quentin, clearly losing his head to his temper once again. Quentin sighed silently and fell into a forward stance with his hands up in front of him in a fighting position. “Chet!” he said loudly and sharply. “Don’t make me take you down again! How do you think that would look around the school? Your reputation would be in tatters, don’t you think? Hulking football player gets beat up THREE TIMES by a little fag? Think about it – would you even be able to show your face around here anymore?”
Chet came to a halt, his chest heaving with his fast, angry breathing. But clearly the wheels were turning in his head once more, because he made no more moves to try to attack Quentin. He shook his head a little to clear it, then turned on his heel and strode away without saying another word. Quentin eased up out of his stance with a long exhalation of breath. He felt relief that he hadn’t had to beat up on Chet again. If he kept humiliating the man, he’d start to feel sorry for him. Besides, in an odd sort of way he was starting to like Chet. He wasn’t sure why, except that he suspected that there was more to that man-mountain than met the eye. And he’d always been unholy curious, so he was wild to see what lurked under Chet’s bully façade.
He wandered into the school to go to the newspaper room to write his article, his thoughts mostly turning to David Naylor’s problem but with a dollop of ruminations of the nature of Chet.
Go to Part 3
Quentin walked away from the field about twenty minutes later, his shoulders slumped. His suspicions had been totally confirmed by talking to David further. The boy was one hundred per cent heterosexual; there was no doubt about it. He felt terrible. Poor Gary. Having a crush on a heterosexual. That was always hard on a gay boy, because there wasn’t any potential for it to go anywhere. But it wasn’t always easy to get rid of those feelings, even if there was no hope. Oh well; all he could do was be there for his friend and support him in any way that he could.
“Hey,” a voice called out to him, and he turned to see another baseball player coming toward him. This boy had blue-black hair, somewhat pale skin, and striking grey eyes. Quentin thought that had looked like he had some Irish blood in him. “Umm, could I talk to you for a minute?”
Surprised, Quentin turned back. “Of course you can,” he said. “About what? The team?”
The boy shook his head. “No. It’s about…” he lowered his voice. “I mean, you’re…gay, right?”
Quentin’s lips twitched. “If I got any gayer, I’d pass Liberace on the All Time Biggest Queers List,” he said.
The boy stared at him, and then laughed. “Okay. Umm…the thing is…I’m…I think I’m kinda…”
“You think that you’re gay too,” Quentin said softly.
The boy nodded, looking unhappy. “Yeah. Sort of. I think.”
Quentin considered this. “Have you ever looked at pictures of guys on the internet? Guys with their shirts off, or maybe more?” he asked bluntly.
A twitch. “Yeah,” the baseball player whispered.
“Then, honey, you are gay,” Quentin remarked, although gently.
“That’s what I was afraid of,” the boy said, his shoulders slumping. “But the thing is – I mean – you’re completely comfortable with being gay,” he told Quentin.
“Yes, I suppose I am,” Quentin conceded.
“Well…I was wondering…if maybe…I could like…hang out with you or something? I need somebody to talk to!” he burst out, and then looked around rather wildly to see if anybody had heard him.
Quentin felt compassion for the poor boy’s plight. “Of course you can,” he said. “Although if you hang out with me, don’t you think that other people will figure out that you’re gay? Do you want that?”
“I don’t know. But that kid Corey Jackson hangs out with you, and he’s dating Amanda Harding now. I think people think that guys want to hang out with you because you’re cool and you know martial arts, not just because you’re gay and all.”
“Oh, I see. Well, one way or the other you’re welcome to come and hang at my house,” Quentin told him. “If you don’t mind my friend Gary being there. He’s gay, too,” Quentin explained.
“I think it’d be kinda cool to hang out with other gay guys,” the boy said.
“All right, then. How about tomorrow after school? What’s your name, by the way?”
The boy looked surprised. “Oh, I forgot to tell you, huh? I’m Patrick Malhoney. I’m the short stop,” he added, waving at the field behind him.
“Okay, Patrick. It’s nice to meet you. Here’s my address; anytime after five is good,” Quentin told him, handing him a piece of paper from his pad with his address written on it.
“Thanks. I really appreciate this,” the baseball player said fervently. “You’re really cool, man!”
“I like to think so,” Quentin said, fluffing his hair again. He grinned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Patrick.”
“Okay. See you then,” the boy loped away with a wave, while Quentin started again toward the parking lot.
But yet another voice stopped him in his tracks before he made it to his car, this one a familiar one. “Whoring for the baseball team?” Chet’s voice sneered from behind him.
Quentin turned around to confront the football player, who was standing nearby once again clad in his football uniform. “Maybe,” he said, setting a hand on his hip. “What’s it to you, big man?”
A disgusted look. “Typical fag,” Chet snarled.
“How would you know what a typical fag is, Chet? Since most of them hide themselves around you so that you won’t beat the shit out of them,” Quentin remarked coldly. “Although maybe that’s what you see when you look in the mirror?” he sniped, making Chet’s eyes fill up with anger.
“I told you before, I am NOT a fag!” the football player growled furiously.
“Surely. And the Pope isn’t Catholic,” Quentin purred. “You know what I think? I think that you’re jealous, Chet. That’s why you came over here to get on my case. You don’t want me to sleep with anybody else, right? That’s so sweet. I’m touched, really I am.”
Chet’s nostrils flared, and his hands flexed at his sides. “I’d like to touch you,” he said softly, menacingly.
Quentin smiled devilishly. “I’m sure you would,” he said. He ran a hand lasciviously down his own body. He smirked when he noted the way that Chet’s eyes followed its movement. “Touch me anywhere you want,” he said sensually, his eyes lidded and full of desire.
Chet was breathing heavily. His lip lifted in a snarl, like a dog’s would. But he only turned on his heel and left without a word, leaving Quentin standing in the parking lot behind him shaking his head in a combination of pity and disgust.
Quentin looked at Gary anxiously across the table in the cafeteria. “I’m sorry,” he said miserably. “But I thought I should tell you.”
Gary looked down at his half-eaten sandwich, his throat threatening to close up. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I never really expected anything to come of it anyway. It’s just…”
“I know,” Quentin said, reaching out to grasp his hand across the table. “And I really am sorry. I guess I just got cocky because things worked out so well with Corey and Amanda. I thought I could repeat it with you and David. I shouldn’t have tried,” he went on unhappily.
“No,” Gary surprised him by saying firmly. “I’m glad that you tried, even though it didn’t work out. Now I know that David likes girls, and I can try to get over my crush on him. It’s good to know one way or the other, rather than just futilely wishing and not doing anything about it. Thanks, Quen; you’re a good friend,” he added with a rather tremulous smile.
Quentin sighed and grasped his hand, squeezing it comfortingly. “I try to be,” he replied. “And from now on, I swear that I’ll stay out of your personal business unless you ask me to get involved.”
Gary shook his head. “Can you actually do that? You really seem to like to…” he trailed off, not wanting to come off sounding rude. Especially not when Quentin had been so kind to him.
Quentin giggled. “Meddle? Interfere? Stick my nose in?” he tapped the end of his own nose, making Gary laugh in turn. “I admit it. I’ll just try not to meddle in anybody’s love life anymore, that’s all. Oh, hey – I’ve got another guest coming over tonight to hang with us.”
“Who?” Gary asked. He knew it wasn’t Corey – his friend was going on another date with Amanda tonight after track practice.
“A kid on the baseball team. He came up to me after I was finished ‘interviewing’ David, and said that he thought he might be gay. He just wants somebody to talk to...”
“Oh. That’s okay,” Gary said. “I understand wanting somebody to talk to,” he went on dryly.
Quentin smile. “Yes, definitely. Anyway, his name is Patrick Malhoney, and he’ll be coming over to my house sometime after five.”
Gary might have replied, but just then Corey came breezing up to them and plopped down in a seat next to Gary. “Hi, guys!” he cried. “What’s up?”
Quentin replied: “Not much, except unfortunately I found out that Gary’s crush is straight.”
“Oh, that David guy? I could have told you that,” Corey remarked with a shrug.
Startled silence, as they both gaped at him. “How did you know…that I have a crush on David Naylor?” Gary asked him after a moment.
Corey rolled his eyes in a good-natured way. “Oh, please. It was pretty obvious, Gary. You were always staring at him. But I didn’t say anything because I figured you wouldn’t want to know that he wasn’t into other guys.”
Quentin shook his head wryly. “I’m beginning to think that I’ve underestimated you, Corey,” he said in admiration. “You see a lot.”
Corey looked rather embarrassed. “Well, I guess,” he said.
“And you were wise enough not to tell Gary about David. I could kick myself, but I thought he should know.”
“I’m glad you told me, Quen,” Gary protested. “This makes it easier for me. Now I can try to get over him and maybe find somebody else. Somebody who hopefully likes other guys,” he went on wryly.
“That’s always good,” Quentin agreed. “I hope you find somebody, Gary.”
He smiled, only as little painfully. “Me, too,” he agreed.
“I’ll get it, Mom!” Quentin called, erupting out of his bedroom and down the hallway toward the living room and the front door. He heard her affirmative reply as he went past the kitchen, where she was laboring over snacks for him, Gary, and the new guest he’d told her he was expecting. Quentin opened the front door, revealing Patrick standing there looking rather nervous. “Hi,” the baseball player said.
“Hello, Patrick. Please come in,” Quentin replied, stepping back to let his guest walk past him.
“Thanks. I really appreciate this,” he said gratefully.
Quentin waved a casual hand at him as he shut the front door behind them. “Don’t worry about it, I like hanging around with other gay people when I can. I’ve nothing against straight people, mind you; my parents are straight, after all,” he added with a sparkling grin. “But it’s nice to be with ‘your own kind’ sometimes, too.”
“Yeah. I can’t talk to any of the guys on the team, they wouldn’t understand. They’d freak out and think that I wanted to kiss them or something, which I don’t.” Patrick remarked, shaking his head.
Quentin nodded as he led the way to his bedroom. “Yes. Straight guys always think that we gays are going to throw ourselves on them, when they don’t realize that most of the time we want someone who wants US, not someone who’s going to run away screaming if we come on to them. This is my room, and this is my friend Gary Finch. Gary, this is Patrick Malhoney,” he added for Gary’s benefit.
“Hi,” Patrick said as Gary looked up from his position on Quentin’s bed.
“Hi.” Gary replied a little shyly.
“Well, take a seat and get to know each other; I’m going to go and talk to my Mom about our snacks,” Quentin said, making shooing motions with his hands at the two of them.
He darted away, leaving Patrick and Gary staring at each other. “Umm…” Patrick said, not sure what to do or say.
Gary smiled. “You don’t have to be nervous,” he remarked kindly. “Quentin’s just always like that. Kind of over-energized. But he means well. Why don’t you sit down? There’s plenty of space,” he waved at the bed, which was pretty big and rather opulent. It had a purple and red silk coverlet with tassels on the edges. Patrick eyed these as he gingerly sat down on the bed. Then he glanced around Quentin’s bedroom in amazed disbelief. Gary giggled at his expression. “I know,” he said. “The first time I came in here I felt like I’d just taken acid or something. It’s…bright, isn’t it?”
“That’s one way to put it, yeah,” Patrick agreed. He glanced at Gary, studying him. “You’re one of the smart kids, aren’t you?” he asked. “In all of the hard classes. A total brain.”
For some reason, Gary felt his cheeks heat a little under Patrick’s thoughtful grey gaze. “Well, I guess,” he said. “I’m in a lot of hard classes, yeah. I want to go to college to study electrical engineering after I graduate,” he explained.
“Wow. That’s cool. I’m not that smart; I do okay, but I like playing baseball better than I do studying,” Patrick remarked with a self-deprecating shrug.
“Well, everybody’s different. And that’s fine; wouldn’t it be boring if we were all the same?” Gary said earnestly.
“I suppose you’re right. So…you’re gay, huh?” Patrick said next, still looking Gary over.
His cheeks definitely turned red this time. “Yes,” he whispered.
“Me too, I guess. I mean, it’s so strange to realize that you like other guys,” Patrick said rather glumly. “You don’t fit in, and straight guys always get all weird on you if you tell them, and everybody assumes things about you. Like they’d all want to know why I play baseball if I’m gay, since gay guys don’t like sports.”
“That’s just stereotypes,” Gary told him. “You can like anything you want; you don’t have to try to conform to other people’s ideas of what a gay person is like. If there’s one thin g that Quentin has taught me, it’s that we’re all free to be whatever and whoever we want to be. He doesn’t let anyone get in his way. And he just does whatever he wants. I like that. I want to be like him, and that’s what I’m trying to do from now on. Of course, I’m not going to wear make-up or dye my hair or get a wardrobe like his…”
Patrick laughed. “Definitely not. What the guys on the team would say if I showed up looking like that…but I get what you’re saying. And it makes sense. So…umm…do you have a…boyfriend, or anything?”
Gary blushed hotly, looking down at the startling silk coverlet. “No,” he said softly. “There was someone that I liked, but it turns out that he’s straight.”
“Oh, that’s harsh,” Patrick said above his head.
He shrugged unhappily. “It’s just life,” he replied glumly. “Not everybody’s going to be gay. I’ll get over it.”
“Yeah. That’s the only thing you can do, really,” Patrick noted. Silence, then he said tentatively: “Hey, Gary?”
“Yes?” he looked at last, glad the color had faded from his face.
Patrick’s gaze was steady as he said: “You’re one of only two gay guys that I know, the other one being Quentin. And much as I like him, I don’t LIKE him, you know?”
“Yes, I know. I felt the same way about him,” Gary said, wondering where this was going.
Patrick squirmed a little. “Well, I was thinking…that maybe we could…you and I…like, go on a date or something? I mean, you don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he added hurriedly as Gary’s jaw dropped.
“You want to go on a date with ME?!” Gary exclaimed in disbelief.
Patrick looked puzzled. “Sure, why not?”
“But…I’m a nerd, and you’re a jock,” Gary began helplessly.
“What does that have to do with anything? Besides, that might mean something if there were a lot of people to choose from, but since there aren’t…” his shoulders lifted. “I just thought we could, you know, try it out. If it doesn’t work it, it’s no big deal. Right? But if it does…we could maybe be boyfriends or something.”
Gary felt breathless. This was not happening! A handsome jock had not just asked HIM out on a date! “Are you sure?” he gasped. “If people see us together, they might figure out that you’re gay…”
Patrick sighed. “If they do, they do. You’re right, we shouldn’t have to hide who we are. So what do you say? Could we go out on a date or something?”
Gary’s fingers spasmed in his lap. “W-we could do that,” he gasped, feeling dazed.
Patrick smiled, a dazzling sight that did bad things to his abdominal region. “Cool,” he said. “Hey, if we’re gonna go out, do you think we might…?” he stopped, looking a little nervous.
“What?” Gary asked.
As an answer, Patrick slid across the bed and kissed him! Gary was so shocked at receiving his first ever kiss that he froze, unable to move or think as Patrick’s mouth moved tentatively over his. It wasn’t a deep kiss, and it was more than a bit awkward – but it was a real kiss! When Patrick finally pulled back, he just sat there with his mouth open.
“I’ve always wanted to do that,” Patrick said softly. “Kiss another guy, I mean. Did you like it?” he asked anxiously.
Gary nodded, dumbfounded. ‘Like’ was too small a word for that, actually. Patrick grinned, looking happy. “Awesome. Then you wouldn’t mind if I do it again sometime?” he asked hopefully.
“No, I wouldn’t mind,” Gary managed to choke out.
Patrick looked pleased. Silence fell between them then, but it wasn’t a nervous or awkward one. Outside the open door, Quentin stood in the hallway holding a plate of cookies and smiled widely. He’d meant to enter his bedroom, but when he’d caught the gist of the conversation going on, he’d paused to give the two boys time alone. He was glad now that he had – this was better than anything he could have planned! Talk about hitting it off right away…he stifled a giggle at this thought, and ostentatiously made a lot of noise as he entered the bedroom. Quentin was flying high right now, and he wouldn’t have been any happier if HE’D hooked up with someone. Oh, well, maybe he might be a little bit happier if he hooked up with somebody, but since that didn’t seem like something that was going to happen anytime soon…
“So how’s it going with Patrick?” Quentin asked his friend. They were sitting outside eating their lunch together, since it was a nice warm fall day.
To his delight, Gary turned a little pink. “It’s going okay. We’ve been on two dates already,” he told Quentin softly.
Quentin grinned. “That’s great,” he remarked as he patted Gary’s slim shoulder like a proud mother. “So you two are hitting it off?”
“I guess. We still don’t know that much about each other. We’re taking it really slow. After all, we’re sort of dating because we’re the only gay guys – that we know of – at this school other than…”
“Me,” Quentin remarked in amusement. “It’s all right,” he added, flipping his fingers at his friend when Gary looked embarrassed. “I’m not to everyone’s taste, I know that. I’m just glad that you two are dating, and I hope that it works out for you guys.”
Gary smiled at him. “Thanks, Quen.”
“So,” Quentin continued, giving him a sly sideways look. “Has Patrick kissed you again?”
Gary’s face flooded with color, which made Quentin want to both laugh and pinch his cheek. “Yes,” Gary replied in a slightly choked voice. “Once. At the movie theater.”
“Did you like it?”
He nodded. Quentin patted his shoulder again. “That’s a start,” he remarked in satisfaction.
Quentin was feeling very pleased with himself as he opened his locker that afternoon. All of his new friends were happy (two of them with each other), so he felt he was doing his job right. Not that he’d really had much to do with getting Patrick and Gary together, but still…if he had never come to this school, and emboldened other gay boys to admit to their sexual orientation, then the two would never have hooked up. That’s how he chose to see it. He hummed to himself as he pushed his English book into his locker and kissed the tips of two fingers before putting them on the lips of the flamboyantly dressed man in the poster hanging on the door. ‘Ah, St. Adam Lambert, thy disciple has done well by thee’ he thought to himself with a cheeky grin.
He closed his locker door, but as he did so he felt a presence nearby. He whirled around, prepared to defend himself, but the person standing there took him completely by surprise. He blinked, looking into David Naylor’s handsome, apologetic face. “Hey, sorry I scared you,” the baseball captain said to him. “But I was hoping we could talk.”
Quentin cocked his head to the side a little. "About what?” he asked curiously.
David looked around at the students streaming out of the school now that the day was done. “Umm…could we go somewhere else?” he asked hopefully.
“Of course. How about outside by the bleachers? Nobody should be able to hear us there, if you don’t want to be overheard,” Quentin said.
“That’d be great,” David remarked. "It’s just…”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s go,” Quentin said, making shooing motions with his hands. He was curious to hear what it was that David wanted to talk to him about.
Outside, they walked together toward the bleachers that surrounded the football field. Neither of them said anything until they came abreast of the back of the bleachers. Then David turned to him. “Listen, I need your help,” he began. “I can pay you if you help me with this thing I’m doing for Janelle…”
“Your girlfriend? How can I help?” Quentin asked curiously, setting a hand on his hip and gazing with interest (and appreciation) at David’s handsome face.
“Well, it’s our anniversary coming up,” David explained uneasily. “We’ve been dating for almost two years now. And Janelle…she’s like really romantic and stuff, and I’m…”
“Not,” Quentin finished for him, his lips twitching in silent amusement.
David nodded unhappily. “But I want to be for our anniversary,” he explained earnestly. “Because I know she’d like it if I was. But I don’t know what to do. All of this girly stuff, I just don’t get it. So I was hoping that you could help me figure it out…”
“Because I’m so girly,” Quentin said, his eyes gleaming with suppressed laughter.
David looked embarrassed. “Well…”
Quentin laughed openly. “I understand; its okay,” he said when he could speak again. “And I’d be glad to help you out, especially for a fee.”
David looked relieved. “Thanks,” he said.
Just then Quentin caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced sideways, and saw a familiar hulking figure emerging from the locker room. Chet was about to make his way onto the football field, presumably to start practice. Quentin got an evil urge. His eyes gleamed wickedly as he reached out to lightly touch David’s arm. He leaned in a little, which disconcerted the baseball captain, and said softly in a quasi-intimate tone of voice: “We can discuss the details of what you should do to be romantic for your anniversary at my house later. Don’t worry, my mom will be there,” he added as David began to look a little alarmed. “We can sit in the kitchen and we’ll make a list. Would that be okay?”
“Yeah,” David said, clearly still a little wary of Quentin’s strange behavior. “What time?”
“Any time after five. Here’s my address,” Quentin produced a pad of paper and a pen, jotted down his address, and with a last fleeting look to the side( the big figure had paused in its tracks and was standing very still), reached out to tuck it into David’s front pocket. He took a step back, looking like he was considering fleeing at any moment. Quentin contained a hoot of laughter only with difficultly, stepping back at last. “There,” he said in a more normal tone of voice. “I’ll see you tonight, David,” he added a bit more loudly, for the benefit of their auditor.
“Uhh, sure,” David bolted, obviously totally spooked. Quentin lifted a hand to conceal his mouth and giggled behind it. That had been such fun! He wondered if David would actually show up or not, considering how he’d just been acting. He shook his head a little and started back toward the school.
An enormous body got in his way. “Got another one on your line, fag?” Chet’s voice growled.
Quentin tilted up his head to meet the furious caramel-colored eyes. He admired them silently as he remarked aloud: “Why, Chet, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Naylor’s not gay,” Chet said in a low, hard voice.
Quentin lifted his brows slightly. “What makes you think that I don’t know that?” he asked.
“I saw you with him,” Chet said darkly.
Quentin huffed a little in amusement. “Did you? Spying on me now, Chet? Your jealousy is totally transparent. But I’m not cheating on you, big man, I swear,” he held up his fingers in the ‘scout’s honor’ gesture, making Chet glower at him even more.
“I’m not jealous,” the football player rasped. “I just don’t want you bugging a straight guy with your fag crap.”
“Ahh, I see. You’re doing this for David’s benefit,” Quentin remarked, tapping a finger against his full lower lip. “But I think that he can take care of himself, don’t you? And if he’s straight, nothing that I can do will turn him. Right? What are you so worried about? Think he might be on the fence, do you?”
Chet took in a deep breath through his nostrils. “No,” he said shortly.
Quentin shrugged. “So there isn’t a problem here, is there?” he asked brightly. “I can talk to the handsome straight guy all I like, without you having to worry that I’ll turn him gay. And David’s worth looking at,” he added, his lips stretching into a faintly lascivious smile.
Chet’s lip lifted in a dog-like snarl. “I see that you’re a slut as well as a fag,” he said angrily.
Quentin lifted a single brow this time. “Oh? How am I a slut? Wait, is it because I hit on you first? Do you see this as me playing around on you?”
“Naylor has a girlfriend,” Chet rasped, refusing to answer his question outright.
“Oh, I get it. You think that I’ll steal him away from her,” Quentin remarked. “And believe me, I am tempted. He’s fine,” Quentin purred. “Although not as fine as you, big man, so don’t sweat it. You’re still my first draft pick,” Quentin added with a saucy wink. “Do you want to sacrifice yourself to keep him out of my evil clutches?”
Chet’s face suffused with red. He took a step toward Quentin, clearly losing his head to his temper once again. Quentin sighed silently and fell into a forward stance with his hands up in front of him in a fighting position. “Chet!” he said loudly and sharply. “Don’t make me take you down again! How do you think that would look around the school? Your reputation would be in tatters, don’t you think? Hulking football player gets beat up THREE TIMES by a little fag? Think about it – would you even be able to show your face around here anymore?”
Chet came to a halt, his chest heaving with his fast, angry breathing. But clearly the wheels were turning in his head once more, because he made no more moves to try to attack Quentin. He shook his head a little to clear it, then turned on his heel and strode away without saying another word. Quentin eased up out of his stance with a long exhalation of breath. He felt relief that he hadn’t had to beat up on Chet again. If he kept humiliating the man, he’d start to feel sorry for him. Besides, in an odd sort of way he was starting to like Chet. He wasn’t sure why, except that he suspected that there was more to that man-mountain than met the eye. And he’d always been unholy curious, so he was wild to see what lurked under Chet’s bully façade.
He wandered into the school to go to the newspaper room to write his article, his thoughts mostly turning to David Naylor’s problem but with a dollop of ruminations of the nature of Chet.
Go to Part 3
