More Than Christmas - 1. Full Story

More Than Christmas

D.K. Daniel

Taylor didn’t know what to do, but this was Christmas, and he’d at least try to tell his best friend how he felt. Telling your best friend, in the whole world, the most intimate feelings you’ve ever experienced toward another person can be an extremely terrifying experience. So, here they were, standing in Caleb’s bedroom. Taylor clutched the Christmas present in his hand meant for Caleb and hesitated to tell his deepest darkest secret. However, since it was Xmas, he thought spirits would be high and Caleb ought to accept his circumstances without much reflection. Caleb found it odd how Taylor stared at him. Something about how he did this made the kid feel unsure of Taylor. Usually, the gifts would be handed over, wrapping paper torn and discarded on the floor by now.

“I need to tell you something?” Taylor said.

Caleb quizzically eyed his friend up. Something in how Taylor looked told the teen a serious discussion was coming. Caleb tore his attention from the gift-wrapped present. He’d have probably preferred exchanging gifts before mushy emotions got in the way.

“Right, what is it?” Caleb said.

Taylor deflated, just witnessing Caleb casually accept his invitation for chatter.

How could he just be so relaxed about everything? Taylor pondered.

Taylor wandered over to the desk by Caleb’s bedroom window. Placing the box down on the tabletop, he turned, leaving the new mitt for baseball. Caleb’s old glove had disintegrated, its leather padding peeling like banana skin.

Taylor’s legs began to tremble again, and he nodded to the bed. Caleb glanced back to the unmade atrocity.

“Can we sit down first?” Taylor asked.

Caleb knew something was up, and the uncomfortable silence hurt his ears. Shrugging, Caleb beckoned for Taylor to follow, and the two boys waltzed to the bed and then plopped down. Caleb pivoted toward Taylor, his mess of blond platinum hair falling over his eyes. The teen subconsciously swiped the strands from his vision, then attentively stared at Caleb. The hair thing, how Caleb didn’t understand how beautiful he happened to be, made the ordeal even more excruciating.

You’ve got those beautiful chocolate eyes staring at you. Don’t fuck up, Taylor rebuked.

Silence filled the room, sucking any hint of safety from the air. Caleb got antsy from the waiting; the serenity and quietness from his friend worked on him, making him feel insecure. Everything could be lost; friendship was on the line, and from this moment on, anything was possible.

“What’s going on with you?” Caleb asked.

The question threw Taylor, and he glanced up, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“I’m… Don’t hate me?” Taylor began.

Caleb leaned back on the bed, gauging Taylor’s face, wondering where that statement came from and if his friend suddenly felt sick.

“Dude, you okay?” Caleb asked.

Showing emotions to another boy can be delicate; you never know how they’ll act. Taylor does everything in his power, holding back the tears which could come at any moment. However, Caleb hadn’t backed away, thinking it was weak-willed. Taylor glanced around the room, looking for distractions, and he observed the two Christmas cards on the footlocker by Caleb’s bed.

“Do you think you could ever be friends with someone who is different?” Taylor asked.

Caleb stared, wondering where on earth this conversation planned on going.

“Different… Like how?” Caleb added.

Taylor swallowed hard, his throat parched, his tongue like the Sahara Desert. Taylor peered down at his sneakers, searching for answers on the floor, wishing he could articulate his feelings better.

“Like… You know… Different,” Taylor mumbled.

Caleb gave one of those deadpanned expressions, wondering how’d he decode the clearly hidden meaning. The youngster tried running possibilities, attempting to figure out what Taylor’s secret meant. However, nothing came to mind, and he didn’t know what to feel.

“Dude, I’m lost….” Caleb said, admitting defeat.

Taylor glanced around the room, his heart racing in his chest. He didn’t want to say the word; he shouldn’t have to share it. So, Taylor scanned the room, looking for alternative ways to say he belonged to a specific group. Taylor stood up; his stomach was stormy with stress.

“Let’s play Charades,” Taylor said.

“Charades? Caleb asked.

Confusion was written on his face, and that worried Taylor. He didn’t want Caleb to get annoyed before he told him the secret.

“I can’t say it out loud. So, you can guess it,” Taylor said.

Caleb stared on, then shrugged.

“Fine… Get on with it then,” Caleb said.

Taylor looked around the room, wondering what he could use first. The first thing his eyes fell on was the ajar closet door. The bright colors of Caleb’s track tops and sweatshirts bled through from the darkness.

Gay people love nice things combined with fashion, and I like nice things. Taylor mused.

“Okay, so what’s the first clue?” Caleb asked.

Taylor walked toward the closet, held up his hand, indicating wait, and rushed to the wardrobe. Drawing back the door, Taylor scanned over the clothes on offer. There were many clothes on request. Choosing would be a problem. Another dilemma for Taylor was the fragrance wafting from the closet. He always liked that odor; it was Caleb’s smell. Just a hint of cinnamon. You notice these things when you have hidden feelings for your best friend.

Diving into the selection, he pulled the garments apart, the metal heads of the hangers scraping along the rail. The lad looked for flamboyant colors, and every time he found something which could be considered gay, he’d yank it from the rail. When he had enough, Taylor walked to the rug in the center of the room and held them up to his chest.

“Eh, you’ve got my clothes there,” Caleb added.

Taylor smiled nervously and then licked his dry lips.

“It’s to help with explaining,” Taylor said.

Caleb thought the display was a bit ridiculous. However, the 13-year-old remained quiet to not embarrass Taylor.

“Okay, are you going to explain?” Caleb said.

The two boys looked at one another, Caleb’s brown eyes meeting Taylor’s blue, questioning every movement. The teen held the clothes up to his chest and posed for Caleb.

“Is this vogue, or are you going to do something?” Caleb said.

“I’m doing something; just guess already,” Taylor said.

There’s stillness, then Caleb stared at Taylor like somebody took a baseball bat to his head, and he’s only waking up from a long slumber.

Taylor held up the garments, showing the vibrant colors.

“Am I missing something? Caleb asked.

Caleb gave a wry smirk, then cleared his throat.

“It’s to do with nice clothes,” Taylor said.

The two boys stared at one another. There was a profound look on Caleb’s face, which said, what are you talking about?

“You didn’t do the part with the hands,” Caleb said.

“Hands?” Taylor asked, seemingly confused.

Realizing how vague he’d been about the meaning, Caleb giggled.

“Where you do, whether it’s a movie, book, place, or thing with your hands,” Caleb said.

“Oh…” Taylor added.

The lad looked around for new inspiration, realizing this wasn’t working. Then, Taylor dropped the clothes on the ground and paced to the desk.

“Hey, my clothes,” Caleb rebuked.

Caleb tore himself from the bed and plucked up his garments from the floor. The teen swiveled, his emotions ruffled by the complete disregard for his belongings.

“These things cost money, you know?” Caleb announced.

Taylor turned, locking eyes with Caleb. He didn’t think about such a thing; he just wanted to get his worries off his chest.

“I’m sorry, I just—” Taylor began.

“You just what? Wanted to trash my room and not care about my stuff,” Caleb said.

There was an odd stillness, each boy pondering his thoughts.

“I just wanted to tell you something,” Taylor said.

The boy returned the item to the desk, twisted it, and figured it was best to leave. Taylor’s shoulders sank, and his swagger died.

“Tell me… Without all the gimmicks,” Caleb said.

Caleb folded his arms, then let out a furled sigh. There was an awkward silence, then Taylor turned, looking out the window. He couldn’t stand there, facing his best friend, and confess the big secret with him staring.

Taylor locked eyes on the two-story Craftsman across the other side of the street with snow settled on its porch roof.

“I’m… Gay…” Taylor said.

The air was thick with broken promises, a crushed friendship, and humiliation in school.

What would stop Caleb from spreading the dirty secret after the holidays? Taylor mused.

Caleb not answering, however, terrified Taylor. Disappointment entered his bloodstream, a slow drip like in a hospital IV. Friendship could take a lifetime to cultivate but die in mere moments. This obviously signaled the end, the lost bond between two naive boys. Taylor figured it best to leave since Caleb stood, picking at his nails, unsure what to do with himself.

“I’ll go,” Taylor said.

The boy slinked along, reaching out for the door handle.

“I kinda already know,” Caleb announced.

Taylor stopped, his hand outstretched, fear culminating in his chest, the eyes wide.

How did Caleb know?

Taylor didn’t dare look around. Instead, he focused on the door, thinking Caleb had made a sick joke.

“Kinda figured since you never talk about girls,” Caleb said.

Taylor’s posture shrunk, and he felt obliged to apologize.

“Sorry for weirding you out,” Taylor said.

Caleb sighed, then said,” You haven’t weirded me out.”

Silence.

Taylor slowly rotated, figuring it safe since Caleb hadn’t personally kicked his butt.

“But I’m different,” Taylor said, raising his arm and patting his chest.

Caleb cocked his head, looking at Taylor like he suggested the earth was flat.

“And… Do you want a gold medal for being different?” Caleb added.

The reaction wasn’t what Taylor expected.

“But, I thought,” Taylor began.

“I’d be small-minded and hate my best friend because he’s… gay?” Caleb said.

Taylor didn’t know what to think and didn’t know how to feel either. He certainly didn’t think his best friend would be so accepting.

I’m stupid for thinking Caleb would be anything else other than accepting.

“No… Course not,” Taylor rebuked.

Caleb smirked.

“So…” Taylor continued.

“So what! You’re gay… I’m straight... Can we get back to what’s important? Like, what did you get me for Christmas,” Caleb said.

There was a giggle, and it put Taylor at ease.

“Alright…” Taylor said.

“What did you get me?” Caleb added.

Caleb paced across the room, then tossed his arm over Taylor’s shoulder.

“Eh…. Just—“Taylor began.

“Nothing gay, right?” Caleb smugly said.

“Screw you,” Taylor said.

He reached up, pushing Caleb playfully, and the two laughed about it. So, that’s what they did. They got to exchanging presents, not paying much attention to labels, and focused on what mattered at the moment.

Presents.

It’s not close-minded; it’s Christmas, and there would be time for talking later.

The End.