Shades of Adrian Gray - 4. Chapter 4

THEN

The day after Adrian’s accidental breakdown slash coming out party, we turned in our history project and went our separate ways. Everything went back to normal. I played rate the hot chicks with Neil and tried not to be jealous he’d landed a major fox like Vanessa, and if Adrian seemed a little quieter and more uncomfortable the few times I passed him in the halls, that wasn’t my problem. I mean, its not like we’d ever been friends before, so why should I act any differently with him now, right?

So I don’t know why I caught him almost-not-quite glaring at me a couple times, and I couldn’t really be bothered figuring out what his malfunction was. I had my hands full with practice and then the Holiday tournaments and then finals and most importantly of all, unwinding and partying over semester break. It was all very hectic and stressful and if in occasional spare moments I found myself staring off into space and thinking about what Adrian had said about knowing you were gay and what got you hard and what didn’t and all that junk….well, that just didn’t happen. Avoidance and denial. They’d served me well for years before and they served me well now. As long as I focused on school and basketball and making fun of Neil being flush in the spring of new love, I wouldn’t have time to think about that other shit, and so that’s what I did. It was a good plan. A brilliant plan. Logical, well reasoned, and in a word, flawless. Which is why I couldn’t figure out why the fuck it wasn’t working.

The first clue I had that the plan wasn’t working was the Monday at the start of semester break. Finals were done, I had managed to not fail my classes, and my hard work was rewarded with a week of no school and an empty house all to myself while my parents were at work. I lounged around, ate too much junk food and played video games. It got old quick. I called Neil and made plans to hang out later in the week when he found time to have his face surgically removed from Vanessa’s lips. That was days away. So it was more a lack of options than anything else that led to me sitting in my boxers in front of my computer surfing through porn on the internet. Seriously. It was like, God’s fault.

It was kinda sad, given that I was sixteen and horny, that it actually took me awhile to even find the porn. Honestly? I’d never gone looking for it before. My mom was nosy enough that I could see her browsing my internet history and finding the sites, or at least that’s what I told myself. It wasn’t worth the risk, the embarrassment, you know? It hadn’t really been too hard to go without it, if I was being completely honest though. I wasn’t really that curious. I just figured I’d see it when I was good and ready to see it. I rule at procrastination.

But there I was, sitting half naked, nude chicks flashing across the screen, panting and moaning and getting slammed from behind. And I was getting hard. Problem solved, right? Except….I wasn’t quite sure which part of it was getting me hard. Or I actually I was pretty sure, and that wasn’t a good thing. I x’d out of the screen and growled at the numerous pop ups that tried to replace it and made my way back to google. This time I looked for girl on girl. I selected one at random and deflated like a rubber balloon ten seconds in. Crap. Went back to the straight porn and rose from the dead like a seven inch Dracula. It was probably because I had some problem with lesbians, right? Like, it wasn’t hot if I couldn’t picture myself being part of the action. That’s all I was doing, looking at the two dark haired guys tag teaming this one chick. Pretending I was one of them, nailing a hottie like that. Right. I groaned and shut off the computer. Denial, by definition, was not working when you weren’t even buying your own shit. I threw on some clothes and went to shoot some hoops at the gym.

The second clue I had that the plan wasn’t working was Tuesday night. I’d been playing basketball with some guys on the team all day, and by the time I got home I was ready to just collapse. I stripped and threw myself into bed, sore, tense and horny and ready to explode. My right hand slipped under my sheets and found its way south of my waist. One thing led to another in the way these things tend to progress, and I moaned when I climaxed just like I had uncountable times before. Except this time, for the first time, the normally faceless dare not-be-examined, shall-not-be-analyzed object of my fantasy actually had a face. With short brown hair, sparkling mischievous eyes, and a devil may care smirk. My eyes shot open.

“Oh fuck me.”

*****

The third and final clue my plan wasn’t working, the proverbial nail in the coffin if you will, came on Thursday when I got in my car to just drive around and wound up just north east of downtown, right smack in the middle of Hillcrest. San Diego’s ‘gay’ district. My subconscious was apparently fed up with being ignored for the past several years and now had all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. I was not amused.

I parked in front of a clothing store showcasing leather, feather boas, and some weird rubber suit with a gas mask in the front window display. For a long time, I just sat there in my car, hands clenched white knuckled around the steering wheel and taking short, shallow breaths while I watched the people go by. I saw more men in pink shirts in that first hour than I had in my entire life. But I also saw guys with hair cut just like mine and biceps that would make an NFL player blanch. Two guys in military fatigues held hands and gave me strange looks when they saw me still sitting in the car, and two girls that looked like cheerleaders my age just rolled their eyes when I tried a quick smile through my window. An older man on a cane was being helped down the street by a younger man who could have been his son, lover, nephew…I didn’t know, and I couldn’t tell from their interactions. Slowly, I started to calm down.

I wasn’t stupid. I was stubborn, and headstrong, and would rather run a football gauntlet than take a pop quiz in chemistry, but I wasn’t stupid. I’d known the truth for years, and it had nothing to do with anything Adrian did or said no matter how much I wished I’d never gone over to his stupid fucking house. I was maybe twelve or thirteen when I first wondered in the back of my mind, if maybe, just maybe it was a possibility. It was another year or so when I knew that it was true, but as long as I never actually said it, as long as I never actually thought the word or applied it to myself, then it was okay. It still might not be true. There was always some kind of excuse that could be applied, no matter how flimsy, but its not like anyone else knew what I was thinking anyways.

I knew the truth. I’d always known the truth. But whenever the thought occurred to me, whenever the truth tried to get up in my face, I shoved it back down before it could so much as even think the word at me. I wasn’t gay. I couldn’t be gay. But no matter how many times the thought surged and was fought back down over the years, it wasn’t that I couldn’t be gay because it was such an impossible concept. It was just I, Evan, Varsity basketball MVP, son of Douglas and Cynthia Foster, could not be gay. I just…couldn’t be.

So how come I was?

I finally climbed out of the car and slammed the door shut. The clothing store was closest, and as I made my way over to it, you would have thought I was marching to my own funeral. I was sweating, trembling, and actually jumped when I pushed open the door and a bell tinkled overhead. I blushed and practically ran over to the nearest corner. A couple of guys perusing the racks smirked at me knowingly. Death by mortification became a very real possibility.

It wasn’t actually a clothing store, I realized when I finally worked up the nerve to raise my head and look around. Or it was, but that wasn’t all it was. There was clothes of all kinds and all manner of outrageous styles. Glitter and sequins, cop uniforms and leather harnesses. The clerk was a college-aged guy with violent purple hair. I was pretty sure he was checking me out. I’d never been checked out by a guy before so I wasn’t sure, but - yup. He licked his lips. Christ. I blushed and turned to face the wall, and my blush turned to near spontaneous combustion when I realized the wall was lined with whips, paddles, handcuffs and ball gags. I saw the clerk coming towards me in my peripheral vision and made haste to another wall.

I didn’t know how to do this, I thought despairingly as I stared at a display of what could only be dildos. Not that I’d ever seen a real dildo in my life before, but blue, latex and shaped like a penis, there wasn’t much else they could be. I didn’t know how to be gay. What did I do now? I could practically feel everyone else in the store laughing at me, and didn’t understand how they could be so casual, running their hands over each other’s biceps like a couple ten feet away from me, practically feeling each other up in the store while they fondled a pair of handcuffs. I’d had my big epiphany, I’d actually admitted it, even if just in my head, so what now? What next? I couldn’t even imagine myself touching another guy the way some of these guys were touching each other, let alone in public. I didn’t know what you were actually supposed to come to a store like this to buy. Hell, I didn’t even know what half the stuff in this store was even for! And by half, I meant pretty much all.

I overheard snippets of whispered conversation as I rummaged through a rack of magazines, all bare chested muscle men on the covers. Words like ‘cock rings’ and ‘enemas’ whizzed past my ears and I felt a little light headed, a little dizzy.

“Hey kid.” I looked up to see the clerk right at my shoulder, looking at me. He wasn’t looking at my face. “You going to buy that?”

“Uh,” I stammered, actually looking down at the magazine I held in my hands for the first time. I couldn’t be sure, but it almost looked like the one Adrian had thrown at me that night. The clerk crossed his arms and tapped his foot impatiently.

“If you’re gonna buy that, or keep going through the displays, I’m gonna need to see some ID first.”

I squeaked, threw the magazine at him, and bolted for the door like the Devil himself was barking at my heels. I was hard as a rock.

********

“Hello?” I said into the phone again, for what had to be the third time. I was getting a little impatient. It’d taken me a couple hours of pacing around my room and wearing a hole in the carpet to actually make the decision to look up his number. It’d taken another half hour and a couple of my dad’s Budweisers knocked back in haste to actually make the decision to call him. Another hour and a good dozen aborted attempts before I actually let the phone ring all the way through so he could pick up, and then a good ten seconds of silence before I managed to get out a recognizable ‘hello’, and the fucker didn’t even have the nerve to answer? Nursing my indignation, I chose to overlook the fact that not possessing any mind reading powers so far as I knew, he probably wasn’t aware of the build-up that went into that first momentous ‘hello.’ “Adrian?”

“Who is this?” He demanded at last. Jesus, from his voice you’d think I was some kind of stalker who’d been calling and hanging up on him all night. It’d really only been like three times. Maybe four.

“Uh, its Evan, man. Evan Foster.”

Another pregnant pause. This was all becoming very dramatic. I suppressed a nervous giggle. Gay or not, I did not giggle. “Why are you calling me, Evan?”

“Umm,” I fumbled, not sure how to actually answer that when he actually said it point blank. ‘I want you to make me wise in the ways of the Gay-Force, Yoda?’ ‘I want to make sweet, gay love to you?’ ‘Hey, wanna get stoned?’ Huh. What did I want? I probably should have figured that out at some point in the last three hours leading up to this. Its not like I didn’t have time. “I was just wondering if you wanted to go catch a movie or something?”

“Why?” Wow. That was kinda dickish.

“Uh, because its fun to go to the movies when you’re bored?” I offered.

“What, you couldn’t find anyone else to hang out with, so you just made your way down the list til you found someone who was free? How far down did you have to go til you got to me?”

“What? Jeez, dude, its not like that,” I said, a little shocked at his vehemence.

“Well then what’s it like? We’re not exactly friends, Evan.”

“Well yeah, sure, but its not like we’re not friends either,” I hedged, starting to get a little flustered. “It was cool hanging out with you, that - other night, and like, we had fun before things got all drama-tense, right? I just figured it’d be cool to go see a movie or something.”

“Is this some kind of haze the fag thing?” Adrian demanded suspiciously. “I show up and all of your basketball buddies are there and you kick my ass and make me wear a cheerleader costume or something? Huh?”

“Jesus man, no! God, chill with the raging paranoia! I was bored, figured I’d see if you were bored, we could go see a movie. It was a simple fucking question.”

“Oh.” He sounded a little put out at that. “Fine, but just so you know, I may not have telekinetic powers, but if I show up and you’re lying, I will go all Carrie on your homophobic asses.”

I pulled the phone away and stared at it for a second. “I don’t know what that means.”

“What? Carrie,” Adrian said impatiently. “Prom? Pig’s blood? Stephen King?”

I hesitated. “Yeah, dude, you really lost me.”

He sighed. “Neanderthal.”

“Umm, what?”

“Christ,” he muttered into the phone. “I don’t think I even want to know which movie you want to see. Where and when? Quick, before I change my mind.”

“Fashion Valley. Nine thirty,” I blurt out hastily, flustered all over again at the near bark in his voice. I hang up the phone and stare at it bemusedly. I probably should have said bye or something first, huh? Oops.

I tossed it on my bed and flung open my closet. Jeans, shorts, jerseys and T-shirts - that was pretty much it. Fuck. What do gay guys wear?

******************

We showed up at the Fashion Valley cinema around the same time, about ten minutes before nine thirty. Adrian was just getting out of his car when I pulled into the parking lot and I swear he tried to peek in the back seat to see if anyone else was hiding there when I wasn’t looking. It was actually kinda funny.

We settled on the new Tom Cruise movie that looked like it had potential for mad laughs, because like, dude is crazy as fuck, and grabbing some popcorn and a couple sodas made our way to the near empty theater. It was still a Thursday night, and because of our school’s weird schedule, nobody else had the same semester break as us. Everyone else was still probably cramming for finals. It took about half of the movie for Adrian to actually relax, but once he did, we had a grand old time mocking Tom Cruise’s attempts at a German accent. One could even call it a gay old time. Jesus. I was turning into such a fag. I crammed another handful of butter drenched popcorn and shoved it into my mouth before a snicker could escape. That was what they were. Snickers. Not giggles. Healthy, masculine snickers.

I studied Adrian out of the corner of my eye, sneaking glances whenever he seemed particularly absorbed. Radiance from the projector bathed his face sporadically, his green eyes briefly lighting up the dimness before fading back to black. It was the first time I’d ever really….examined a guy. You know. That way. There were guys at school that I’d always admitted were hot in that way that wasn’t really admitting (at least not that would hold up in a court of law). But nothing like this, where there was no one else around to catch me looking and I could feast my eyes to my heart’s content. It was kinda weird, looking at someone you’d known for years, and realizing you’d never actually looked at them before. That all of a sudden, because of one little word you’d been hiding from for years, you were looking at them in a whole new way.

And in a word? Adrian was hot. Come to think of it, I had always heard stuff about girls complaining that he never dated. He was smart, funny, rich, and handsome. A hell of a catch. I can’t imagine anyone could ever get bored with him around, and as far as physical attraction went, well he didn’t hurt to look at. I caught myself staring at his lips and wondered what it’d be like to kiss them. Then that thought caught up to me and whipped my head back around to face the screen so fast I practically gave myself whiplash. What the fuck? What was I thinking about kissing him for? I’d never even checked out a guy before in my life, and all of a sudden I was thinking of kissing one? The first gay guy I’ve ever actually known and I’m getting hot and horny just sitting next to him in a movie theater - holy fuck. Was I slut? Jesus. I was. I was a big gay slut. I sank as low as I could into my seat.

The movie eventually let out and we spilled back into the theater lobby, where they were already sweeping up and shutting down the confection machinery. Slow night. We shoved through the lobby doors and into the chill night breeze. Our cars were two of the only ones left in the parking lot.

“The previews were the best part,” I said inanely. Adrian smirked and nodded, kicking a pebble along the curb.

“They always are.”

Ah, uncomfortable silence. I began to know it very well.

“Look,” he said at last, clearing his throat. “I’m sorry. You know. For assuming you were up to something.”

“It’s cool,” I shrugged. “I mean, I get why you might have been worried. Its kinda heavy, huh? And its not like you really know me that well.”

“Yeah. What’s that all about anyways? I mean, yeah, we were cool hanging out at my place, before - you know, and then you don’t say a word to me about in school or anything, and then a month and a half later you call me out of the blue to see if I wanna go see a movie? That’s kinda weird dude.”

I shrugged again, a little embarrassed when he put it like that. We stopped beneath one of the parking lot lampposts, golden light puddled around us, our own private spotlight for our own private drama. “I just had some shit I had to work through in my head.”

“About me?”

“Kinda,” I mumbled. “Not really though.”

“Oh.” He digested this. “So you really are cool though? With me? You weren’t just saying?”

He was watching me carefully, nervously almost, doing that thing I remembered from his bedroom where he kinda chewed on his bottom lip. Just like then, it made him look - fuck. Before I knew what I was doing, I leaned in and kissed him. There was a moment where his lips were just frozen against mine, before he pressed back, his own lips moving in response…and then he shoved back from me, eyes wide with shock.

“What. The fuck.”

“Oh shit,” I stammered, heart pounding. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that. “I’m sorry man, I -”

“Dammit,” Adrian swore. “I knew it! I knew you just wanted to fuck with my head! I just -”

His voice faded away and he stared at me. I must have looked pathetic, hands in my pockets, slouched to half my normal height, no wonder he stopped. “Evan? You are just - fucking with me, right?”

I turned away, so he couldn’t look me in the eye. Of all the stupid, moronic, dumbass ideas -

“Holy shit,” he breathed. “Evan…you’re not….are you…gay?”

“No,” I blurted out instinctively. Shuffled nervously. “I mean, I dunno. Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“Okay, so probably,” I admitted. He stared at me some more, eyes wide as the full moon I was blaming for temporary insanity. Then he shoved me.

“You asshole! I’ve been freaking out, going fucking out of my mind these past two months worrying you’re going to change your mind and out me any day now, and you pass me every day in the halls and never say a single fucking word and this whole time you’ve been gay too! Asshole!”

“Not this whole time!” I defended myself, warding him off with my hands. “I’m new! I mean, newly gay! I mean, I wasn’t gay then, fuck, you know what I mean!”

“What, you just woke up gay?”

“Yes! I mean, no! I was in like, denial and stuff.”

“Denial,” he eyed me skeptically.

“And stuff,” I reminded him. My shoes were suddenly terribly fascinating. I couldn’t believe I’d never realized how interesting they were before.

“Fine,” he bit out. “I’m so glad you’ve come to terms with it. And so glad you decided to tell me by freaking me out with this whole mysterious phone call and movie thing and then just KISSING me, instead of just calling me up like a normal person and saying hey, Adrian, know how you’re gay, well I’m gay too, maybe we can talk about it some time and compare notes -”

He stopped in mid sentence and I risked a glance at his face. Bad idea. I hadn’t thought his eyes could get any bigger. Apparently, they could.

“Evan,” Adrian said calmly and carefully. I sensed rage building again. “Was this a date?”

Eyes back on shoes. Eyes back on shoes. Quickly! “Umm, no?” I guessed.

“Ugh! What the fuck is the matter with you? You ask someone to go on a date! You don’t just say, hey, wanna go see a movie -”

“That is asking someone on a date,” I interrupted grumpily.

“Not if the other guy thinks you’re straight!” He bellowed. It was slightly possible he had a point. Slightly.

“I didn’t mean for it to be a date,” I yelled back, frustrated. “I mean, I’m just figuring out that I’m gay and its freaking me out and I knew you were gay too and I figured we could just go see a movie and then I could tell you and we could talk but like, I dunno, you’re hot and I like you I guess, or I don’t know, I just kissed you! I don’t even know why, and I have no fucking idea what I’m doing!”

“Clearly,” Adrian hissed. “What, you just think because you’re gay, and I’m gay, hey, let’s get together and get gay married!? What, like I have to like you just because you’re the only other gay guy I know?”

“No, I told you,” I insisted stubbornly. “I like you.”

“You don’t even know me!”

“I kinda do! And I mean, I could get to know you better.”

“Yes, Evan. Get to know me. Then kiss me. That’s the normal progression!”

“Well now I know, okay? Sorry! Jeez.”

We were both panting like we ran a fucking marathon at this point. He threw his hands up in disgust. “Jesus you’re a mess.”

“Well duh!” I fired back ever so wittily. Because seriously? He was just now clueing in on that? “And you’re a drama queen. Jesus. So I kissed you. Freak out much?”

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, glaring at me. He pressed forward and shoved me against my car and before I knew it he was kissing me. I must have expressed my shock somehow because he just pressed against me more firmly and growled, “Oh shut up. You started it.”

I kissed back. With both of us cooperating, it went much more smoothly this time. We finally broke for air and I pulled back worriedly. “Hey Adrian? I think I’m kinda a slut.”

He stared at me and slid to the ground, collapsing in hysterics.

Douche bag.