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    pmdacey
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Things Are Different - 7. Chapter 7

As it is so easy online, I lost track of time until I heard my grandmother at the door.

"Jayson?"

I wiped my eyes, "Yeah?"

"You have visitors again."

"Huh?"

"Hey dude, I'm back and I brought company." Devon came in followed by Dani. She bounced in and wrapped her arms around my neck and even kissed me on the cheek. It is an outdated word, but I could only describe myself at this point as "flummoxed." I am sure it showed on my face.

"Hey, cutie." She said inches from my nose.

"Huh, hi?"

"Devon said you were feeling a bit low." She peered intently at me. I hoped my eyes did not look like I had been crying. "You look like you need a party."

I just stared blankly at her.

"Beer." Devon said.

"Shush Devon!" Dani hissed.

"Tequila." Devon whispered.

"Ignore him." She commanded. "There is a party tonight and we are taking you."

"Um." I mumbled.

"An unsupervised party." Devon whispered again. Fortunately my grandmother had retreated right after they entered the room.

"I don't think so." I don't know why, but I have always been terrified of getting in any sort of trouble. I guess getting in trouble runs counter to remaining invisible. Nothing breeds trouble like a melee of unsupervised teens with alcohol.

"Ignore him. And you are coming." She paused before continuing, "Scott's going to be there too." It was the wrong thing to say. I was not ready to see Scott and have to talk to him about his chosen topic.

"Thanks and all, but I really don't think so."

"You've given me no choice . . . Devon!" Dani motioned Devon forward and he did a very convincing job of flexing his biceps and cracking his knuckles.

"What are you going to do? Kidnap me?" It was a little exciting to imagine Devon hauling me over his shoulder and taking off with me.

"Nope." He said and dropped to his knees in front of me, "I'm going to beg." He clasped his hands in a prayerful pose . . . "Please, if you don’t come she will make my life miserable. You have no idea what she can be like." Dani was behind him nodding her head. "And not just me, but you too. You don't want to be on her bad side, trust me."

"What he said." Dani intoned ominously. Devon even tried putting his hands on my knees and giving me puppy dog eyes.

I had fantasies about being on my knees in front of Devon, but this was good too, just different. I had to burst out laughing; big buff Devon on his knees begging me for something. It was just too weird.

"I'll have to see if it's okay with my grandmother." This was my last chance to get out of it.

Dani jumped up and did a little fist pump with a "Yes!" Devon remained on the floor, his hands on my knees.

"It's okay!" A voice came from the hallway. With that I figured I was going to my first party. I would say I was excited, but I was too nervous.

"Thanks Dr. Westwood." Devon said to my grandmother on the way out.

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do. No, strike that. Exercise better judgment than I did at your age." She called to us as we went out the door. I was still trying to decide if I had the coolest grandmother in the world, but that made me wonder why my mother, her daughter, was such a fuck up.

It turned out the house was not that far away and Devon drove us there. The sun had set and the party was in full swing with every light ablaze and kids everywhere. The Music was so loud the windows vibrated. All I could think was how much I hated crowds, loud music and parties. I was dreading my decision to relent and come along.

As soon we arrived Devon went into full power social/politician personality. I had seen a different side of him earlier today, but this was the Devon I think everyone saw. Of course everyone knew Devon and he knew everyone else. Dani was just as social, running up to a group of girls and doing the whole jumping up and down, squealing routine that girls, particularly teenage girls, do. This left me in the foyer adrift in a sea of beer drinking adolescents, not something I really wanted. I could not feel more out of place. This was truthfully my first party and I had no idea what to do. It appeared that I would be that awkward loner wondering from room to room, hugging the walls not talking to anyone.

I tiptoed around the straight couples making out and the chugging football players trying to find a quiet, out of way corner to wait until I could escape home. I still carried my money from Texas in my shoe and I figured I would be able to call a cab at some point. I figured Devon and Dani would completely forget about me.

I inched my way towards the back of the house and the kitchen. There was a lot more than just beer there. The counter was covered with every conceivable type of alcohol available. It looked a little like some of the places I had grown up in, until my mom discovered stronger things booze.

"There you are! I've been looking all over for you." Dani put her arm around my waist.

"Um,” was all I could muster. I suppose it beat, "Thanks for bring me to this catastrophe and abandoning me within two minutes of arriving." Why can't I just blurt out things like that?

"Went looking for the good stuff, huh?" She was searching through the assorted bottles.

"No." I responded, probably a bit harshly, but I don't think she noticed.

"Here try this." She tried to hand me cup she had just filled with I don't know what.

"I don't drink." I had to practically yell to be heard over a sudden rise in the decibel of the music.

"I respect that." Dani took a swallow from the cup, "Sometimes I wish Devon wouldn't."

I could imagine Devon being one of those completely charming drunks that just becomes more friendly and outgoing than he already is.

"Here." She produced a cold bottle of water from somewhere.

"Thanks."

"Come with me. I want to show you something." Dani led me out to the backyard. There were still a lot of people around, but the groups were quieter and more sedate. There was also the unmistakable skunky smell of high quality marijuana hanging in the air. A contact high would not be out of the question. The yard was large and bordered by trees and we moved away from the house lights towards what looked like a small campfire.

Rocks had been arranged in a circle and a little fire was dancing in the night even though there was no chill in the air. A handful of people were sitting on the ground and on a couple of chairs sat a guy I did not recognize playing the guitar and next to him sat Scott playing the banjo. Vanessa stood between them, her hand on Scott's shoulders singing.

I’ve been down like a sparrow on the ground

I’ve been lost on a river that won’t flow

I’ve been hurt, I’ve been weeping sad and lonely

For some loving arms to hold me

I’ve been down . . . but not that low

 

I lost my home and I have no pillow

I make my bed under the willow

An old wool coat hung o’er my shoulder

The nights are long and getting colder

Oh I’ve been down, I’ve been down

 

You tell jokes and you have dinner

But so does every poor born sinner

You have fame and you have money

Enough to buy you sugar and honey

Lay your money down, lay your money down5

 

"Pretty cool, huh?" Dani said beside me.

"Uh-huh," I nodded, "I didn't know Scott played the banjo."

"I didn't either until I ran into Vanessa."

I was mesmerized by the music and especially by Scott. His fingers flew across the strings in an effortless manner. Vanessa's voice was clear and strong. It has always been easy for me to lose myself in music. In fact it was my most cherished escape route.

 

The song ended and Vanessa gave Scott a quick peck on the cheek. Scott put his banjo down while Vanessa and the guitarist wandered towards the house, empty cups in their hands. As she walked past me she gave me what could only be described as a withering look. I could not figure out what I did to piss her off.

I was standing outside the ring of firelight, so I don't think that Scott saw me. That is until Dani pushed me towards the fire and Scott. I looked back at her, but she was retreating towards the house. Several others that had been seated at the fire also got up to refill their drinks leaving me alone with Scott. I edged my way towards the fire and sat down on the ground a few feet from Scott.

"Hey." For once I initiated a conversation.

"Hey." He said, sipping from a bottle of water. I followed suit. My mouth was suddenly dry and my tongue too thick.

"I didn't know you played Banjo."

"There's probably a lot you don't know about me."

I was taken a back a bit by the harshness of his comment and just stared at him. I think he may have been a little surprised by his tone as well.

"I'm sorry. That didn't come out right. I mean, you're new here and all so you don't really know anyone, I guess. Except Devon, of course."

"I can't really say I know Devon that well either. He talks a lot, but not about himself."

"Kind of like you, except that you just don't talk. But you do scowl a lot."

"I don't scowl."

Scott laughed and moved from the chair to the ground near me. "You're doing it now."

"I am not." I traced my eyebrows and mouth with my fingers. I couldn't tell if I was frowning or not.

"Am I?" I made a concerted effort to relax my features, probably having the exact opposite of the desired effect.

Scott let out another barking laugh.

"Don't worry, it's not a criticism, just an observation." I examined Scott's face; it always seemed so open and, well, not necessarily always happy, but welcoming.

I think I scowled again, or still, because Scott let out with a chuckle and shook his head. My efforts not to frown were so obvious it produced more light laughter and I couldn't help myself and joined him, though my laughter is much more reserved and is probably not much more than a loud smile.

"I didn't know you were going to be here." Scott stated.

"I didn't either. Dani and Devon kidnapped me. This is the first time I have been to a party like this."

"I don't really go to parties anymore, but Vanessa dragged me here. She said it was a good chance to perform again." He pulled at the grass as he spoke.

"You perform a lot?"

"Not so much lately. There are not many people listening here, which makes it more enjoyable."

"It was awesome. Your playing is great, right up there with Bela Fleck . . . and Vanessa has a great voice."

"I'm no where near Bela Fleck. I'm surprised you know him. I mean, I know he is famous, but most guys our age are better acquainted with Lady GaGa."

"I used to listen to my Dad's CD collection a lot and he had some in there."

"Your Dad sounds like he had good taste in music."

"He had all sorts of music; from Metallica to Judy Garland. I think he was a musician." As soon as I said it, I knew I had revealed too much again.

"You think?"

"I didn't really see him much and lots of the time when he was there, well he wasn't really there . . . But sometimes we had great times and those times almost always involved music. I guess I got a real appreciation for music from him. It's just . . ."

"I know what you mean, music always to make me feel . . . I don't know if 'better' is the right word, but you know . . . it just. . ." Scott trailed off like me.

"Yeah." I did know what he meant. If I didn't find the answers in a song at least it could give voice to what I could not in any other way.

"Yeah." Scott nodded, shredding the grass he had plucked.

"Um, about the project . . .” I didn't even know what I wanted to say. Something needed to be said.

"Look, I totally understand if you are uncomfortable and don't want to do the topic. It's just that you seemed so relaxed and nonjudgmental around me I thought you might be cool with it."

"I looked at what you sent and . . . Wait, what do you mean?" Scott looked at me; a confused expression that I am sure mirrored my face. He groaned and put his hands to his face.

"What?" I asked in my continued confusion.

"I thought you knew. I mean I know you are new, but I was sure somebody would have told you."

"Told me what?"

"Um, last year . . . those kids you saw online -- that was me." He looked me straight in the eye, maybe gauging my reaction. Averting his gaze he went back to mutilating blades of grass.

"You tried to commit suicide?" My brain would not work properly. It was being required to wrap itself around information it had no basis for processing. Was Scott telling me that he was . . .?

"Uh-huh," he nodded "but I didn't do a very good job of it . . . as you can see."

"Wh-wh-why?"

"I wasn't bullied like those kids." So he is not gay I thought. "I guess I'm straight enough acting that nobody knew I was gay." Oh my god! He is gay! "For now, let's just say I did something I was very ashamed of."

Holy fuck what do I do? What do I say? The boulder that resided in my stomach had hatched into a fire breathing dragon. What do I do? I am good at hiding my emotions, of controlling myself. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

"I thought Vanessa was your girlfriend, the way she kisses you and the like." I followed the gentle curve of his lips as he spoke.

"Vanessa would be my girlfriend if I swung that way. She is my musical soul mate. She really helped me out during the last year."

"I don't think she likes me." I started plucking at the grass too so that I would not be drawn into his eyes and blurt out something I did not want to say.

"She just doesn't know you yet and she is probably a little over protective of me"

"Oh . . ."

"I lost a lot of people I thought were friends, I'm kind of an outsider now."

"An outsider?"

"I'm a suicidal gay banjo playing fifteen year old -- You don't get much more on the fringes of teen society than that." Scott let out a bitter laugh and threw the shredded grass into the air. It fell like a verdant rain over us. "Pardon my gallows humor, as it were." His face got serious, the corners of his mouth dropping, "I will understand if you don't want to hang out or want another project partner." He did not turn away from me when he said it.

I didn't know what to say. Yes I did -- I AM GAY TOO. That's what I should say. I wanted to kiss him. But that is not what I did.

"My dad didn't just die." Why did I say that? Scott just looked at me. I looked at the blades I was tearing to pieces. "He committed suicide."

"Oh, dude, I didn't mean . . ."

"What I mean, I guess . . . what I'm trying to say is,” I AM GAY TOO, "that I will still be your friend and we will do the project the way you want to." What the hell is wrong with me? I thought to myself. My heart was pounding so hard that I was sure he could hear it. It seriously crossed my mind to grab a bottle from the kitchen and empty it until I passed out.

I had to look up when I felt his arms around me giving me a squeeze. If I wasn't so nervous I would have sprung a boner.

"Sorry," he said releasing me, "I can act a little impulsively sometimes. Anyway, thanks." I just shrugged my shoulders. I didn't know what to do next. Fortunately I was saved from further immediate conversation by the return of Vanessa and the guitarist. Before they got close, Scott jumped up and ran over to Vanessa giving her a big hug. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I was certain they were whispering about me. That was made even clearer by the stern glare that Vanessa delivered in my direction. She was quite the opposite of Scott, who seemed more animated and upbeat than ever.

I wondered what was wrong with me. This could be perfect. He was so attractive and nice and talented and hot! And those eyes! But what if he didn't see me the same way? What if he did, but found somebody less fucked up than me? Or what if I had to move away again? What if my grandmother found out? What if? What if? What if? My mind was spinning in on itself and I could feel myself being sucked down into a dark whirlpool of doubt and self-loathing.

The sound of music pulled my attention back to the surface. Despite my mental turmoil it immediately improved my mood.

 

I got a girl and she loves me

She's as sweet as she can be

She got eyes of baby blue

Makes my gun shoot straight and true

 

Goin' up Cripple Creek

Goin' on a run

Goin' up Cripple Creek

to have a little fun

Goin' in a whirl,

Goin' up Cripple Creek

To see my girl

 

Cripple Creek's wide and Cripple Creek's deep

I'll wade old Cripple Creek before I sleep

Roll my britches up to my knees,

I'll wade old Cripple Creek when I please6

The traditional upbeat tune lifted my spirits, though in my head I wondered what it would be like if the pronouns were different. I got a boy and he loves me.

 

5 music and lyrics copyright of "Mean Mary" James

 

6 Up on Cripple Creek

1969, Robbie Robertson

Capitol Records

Copyright © 2015 pmdacey; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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