Kyle went right to sleep as soon as he got into bed the night of the Homecoming game. I wasn't surprised. He had really been working hard, and so far the hard work was paying off. I didn't go to sleep right away, though. Instead I lay there thinking about how lucky I was that he loved me. Kyle could have had anyone he wanted, and I knew that. Most of the gay kids we knew would cheerfully have done anything Kyle asked them to do, and just about any girl in school would have jumped at a chance to date him, if he had been interested. Kyle was ready for loving the next morning, though, and it was good. Very good. He was excited about the dance, and I enjoyed the benefits of that excitement. "What are you going to do today," I asked while we were still lounging in bed. "I need to go to school to check on the decorating," he said. "I think it's in good shape, but I just wouldn't feel right if I didn't put in an appearance. What are you going to do?" "I was thinking of going out to the island with Brian, Denny, and Chip, if that's all right," he said. "If it's all right? You can do what you want, Babe. You know that," he said. "I want to take the boat, though." "Oh, y'all aren't going to swim out to the island," he asked, grinning. "Very funny," I said. "Don't forget. We're supposed to go eat at 5:30. There are going to be a lot of people eating out tonight, and we need to give ourselves plenty of time," he said. "We've got reservations, though." "What time does the dance start," I asked. "Not till eight, but I need to be there no later than 7:30," he said. "Okay. I'll be dressed and ready," I said. "Kyle?" "Huh?" "I love you," I said. He smiled so sweet when I said that. "I love you, too," he said, and he kissed me. * * * The weather was gorgeous. It was in the mid-seventies, but the humidity was unusually low for Emerald Beach. The sky was bright blue over the Gulf, and you could look back toward land across the bay and see how much paler the sky was in that direction. We had Trixie with us, of course, and we were set for a good day of fun in the sun. The first thing we did was set up a little camp sort of thing. We had an ice chest with soft drinks and bottles of water, and we had stopped and bought big sandwiches for lunch. Brian and I got naked right away. He and I didn't like to be naked as much as Kyle and Justin did, but it seemed like the thing to do on that beach. It was perfect. "Are you guys going to get comfortable," Brian asked Denny and Chip. "I am," Chip said. He jumped out of his clothes in a second. Denny got undressed, too, but he didn't seem as eager to do it as Chip had been. "You can keep your clothes on if you want to, Bubba," Brian said to him. "I know," Denny said. "This reminds me of the island in Lord of the Flies." "Who do you picture as characters in that book," I asked. "Kevin's Ralph, of course," he said. "Who's Kyle?" "Oh, Kyle would have to be Jack, don't you think," he said. "Because he's a leader, or because he's a savage?" I asked. "Oh, the leader part, for sure," Denny said. "He's not a savage." We chatted about that book for a little while. We were sitting in a sort of loose circle, facing one another. Chip was across from me, and he had his legs spread wide apart. I'm just as gay as the next guy, but I don't necessarily check guys out immediately, especially ones like them that I've seen a million times. When I did look at his groin, I was surprised. "Chip, is that what I think it is down there?" I asked. Chip blushed, but he also grinned from ear to ear. He had hair! It wasn't much yet, but it was definitely hair. "It's getting bigger, too," he said. "And my balls have grown some, too, I think." "Come here. Stand up," I said. "You're taller, too. When did this happen?" "It's been pretty gradual, but all of my jeans from last year were way too short for me. I had to buy all new school clothes for this year. Already the new ones are getting short for me," he said. All of us were happy for Chip and laughing. I put my arm around his shoulder and did a little sideways hug. "Oh, oh," he said. "What's the matter," I asked. "It's getting stiff," he said. We had all seen him with erections before, but it had been several months. "Let's see how big it gets, Chip," Brian said. "It's okay. It's just us." "I don't know what I could do about it, anyway," he said. We all laughed. He got hard fast, and his penis was a good bit bigger than I remembered it being. In fact, it was definitely man-size. Probably four-and-a-half inches. "We told you it was going to happen sooner or later, didn't we?" I asked. I was genuinely happy for him. "Yeah, and it finally is," he said. "And I'm finding out what sexual attraction means, too." We were sitting down again by then. "Tell us," Denny said. "You and I have already talked about this," Chip said. "By the way, did you all know we're best friends?" "Not officially, but you sure act like best friends," I said. "Well, we are," he said. "And the problem is, I don't think I'm gay." Brian and I laughed. "That's not a problem, dude," Brian said. "A lot of people think being gay is a problem. Not being straight." "I know, but I don't want you guys to stop being my friends. Especially Denny. I love you guys. Just not that way, you know?" "We have straight friends, Chip," I said. "You'll always be our friend, Bubba." "Like who," he asked. "Morgan, Blake, and Riley are all straight. At least as far as we know. Chris, too. A ton of guys in our scout troop. A bunch of people at school," I said. "Most of your good friends are gay, though, aren't they?" he asked. "Yeah, probably. I think we tend to make stronger friendships with guys who like to be around other guys more than they like to be in mixed company," I said. "If you don't mind hanging out with a bunch of gay guys, you'll be welcome with us anytime, Chip." "The thing is, I don't really think of most of you guys as gay. You're just guys," Chip said. "Yeah, but we're gay," Brian said. "Make no mistake about that." "Chip, I'm ready to get in the water," I said, "but please don't ever think you're not welcome with us because you aren't gay, okay?" "Okay. Thanks, Tim. Let's get wet," he said, and he headed into the surf, followed immediately by Trixie and Denny. Brian and I kind of tagged behind. "Did you ever think you'd have to tell somebody it's okay to be straight?" Brian asked. I laughed. "We have to build self-esteem in everyone, Bri," I said. "I know." We were both laughing so hard we could hardly walk. "I can't wait to tell Kevin and Rick," I said. "Don't you dare tell them unless I'm there, you hear?" "Okay, Bubba," I said. Brian and I went into the waves, still laughing our asses off. * * * Kyle had to wear his tux again that night, and he looked unbelievably good in it. His black hair, dark eyes, and olive-toned skin contrasted with that snow-white shirt beautifully, and the black suit was stunning. He and I were the only ones from the family who were going to the dance. There would probably be a few sophomores there, but Brian wasn't really the kind who would have enjoyed that sort of occasion, especially without Justin. Freshmen were allowed to attend, so Denny and Chip could have gone, but it was basically an event for juniors and seniors, and everybody sort of knew that. They'd have their turn. Justin, Alex, and Cody weren't students there, so they couldn't go, unless they went as somebody's date. That wasn't happening, though. Brian and I had tried to talk Chad and Gage into going. Chad said "not no, but hell no." Gage said he wouldn't mind going but all he was interested in was seeing what the girls were wearing. Kyle had all but bitten his tongue in two to keep from laughing when Gage said that, but he didn't tease him about it. Instead, he said he'd take lots of pictures of the girls so Gage could see their dresses. "Can you believe Gage?" Kyle had said when it was just Brian, him, and me. "You know, Kyle, I admire him," Brian said. "He's perfectly at ease with who he is. I'm not really attracted to his type, but I definitely like him as a friend." "I know," Kyle said. "Me, too. He's so funny. He was supposed to be one of the escorts, but he backed out because Chad didn't want to go to the dance. Gage is very smart, you know." "Duh," I had said. "Fuck you," Kyle said, grinning. "Tim, are you going to be an escort next year?" Bri asked me. "Yeah, if I'm chosen," I said. "Bubba, they do it by rank in class," Bri said. "Then, yeah, I'm going to do it," I said. "You know your rank in class?" Kyle asked. He said it the same way he might have said, "You know how many hairs are on your head," or "You know how many sperm are in each ejaculation." Not that he would have ever said "ejaculation." "Yeah," I said. "Do you know yours?" "Hell, no. How would I know that," he asked. "You ask them in Guidance, Babe," I said. "Every grading period they get a printout that has that on it." "I don't know, and I don't care. I guess I'm not in the top thirty-five guys, though," he said. "I couldn't have handled being an escort and all this other shit, too." "Kyle, you could . . . " "Tim, don't say it, okay? We've been through it enough. It's the way I am, and I can't help it," he said. "Are you mad at me?" I asked. "No, I'm not mad at you," he said, grinning. "I just can't help it." "I know, Babe," I said. "And you know what?" "What," he asked. "That's one of the things about you that makes me love you," I said. "Because I know the truth about you, Kyle, and every once in a while, like on the PSAT that made you a National Merit semifinalist, you let the truth bubble to the surface." "Every once in a while, my daddy shoots a hole-in-one, too, just to show the rest of them that he can do it," he said. "That's a perfect analogy, Kyle," I said. "Why are we even talking about this?" he asked. * * * Our group that night was Kyle and I; Philip and Ryan; Morgan and Samantha, Morgan's date; a girl named Cathy who was really pretty and very smart; and a girl named Barbara, who belonged to some religion that didn't let women wear makeup or cut their hair. I wondered if Barbara could dance. We went to one of the Goodson hotels for dinner. It was actually the one that had the best restaurant, at least in Kyle's opinion, and they were ready for us. The host, or maitre' d, or whoever he was, referred to Kyle as Mr. Kyle, and Phillip gave Kyle no rest about that. "Mistah Kyle, lemme hep you zip your pants, there, suh," Philip said. "Shut up," Kyle said, laughing. "Mistah Kyle, lemme cut yo meat for you, suh," Philip said. We were all laughing. "Your ass is mine tonight, Bubba," Kyle said, pointing his finger at Philip. "I beg your pardon," Ryan said. We all laughed hard at that line. Morgan's date seemed a little confused, but she laughed, too. She was really cute, and she seemed to be a very good sport. Kyle and Philip kept it up in the same vein all through dinner. It was very obvious to me that those two boys had a rapport that only develops over a lifetime of friendship. We started with an appetizer. Kyle got raw oysters, of course, and I got shrimp remoulade, which he also likes. The remoulade sauce was the best I had ever tasted. I gave Kyle one of the shrimp. "I'll be getting that sauce recipe," he said. "That's a little bite of heaven, right there, isn't it?" The rest of the meal was good; very good, in fact. At 7:15, Kyle asked the waiter to bring the check. "There is no check," the waiter said. "What?" "Believe me, Kyle. There is no check. It would have been $400 if there had been a check, though," he said. "Gotcha," Kyle said, and the waiter left the table. "The tip is ten bucks a piece," Kyle said. "We were an experiment, so we don't have to pay for the rest of it." I noticed Kyle left a twenty. "Yeah, this was an experiment, all right. An experiment in how much Goodson ass they could kiss at one time," Philip said so that only Kyle and I heard him. We laughed. "Have you got a problem with that, Mistah Philip," Kyle asked. Philip laughed. "Not a bit, Mistah Kyle. Not a bit, suh." * * * I expected the eight of us to be the first ones at the dance, but we weren't. Several of the other SGA officers were there, as was the DJ, the photographer, the SGA sponsor, and several members of the dance committee. Kyle was satisfied with the way everything looked, and he gave it his stamp of approval. I had never been to a dance before, and I was sort of in awe at the whole thing. It was in the school gym, but they had decorated everything that had a place to hang something on or tape up something to. It was really pretty tasteful, though, I thought. The school colors were silver and navy blue, and that was the main color scheme. They had a place where you could get your picture taken with your date or with whoever you wanted. "Let's go get our picture made before it really starts," Kyle said. "I won't have time to do this once it gets going." The photographer turned out to be Kyle's friend who had taken our picture the previous Christmas and who had taught Kyle darkroom work. "I want each one of you by yourself, and then I want you two together as a couple," he said. We posed like he told us to. "Have you sold any yet," he asked Kyle. "Yes, sir. One to a museum, even," Kyle said. "I'm not surprised. Come by with your portfolio sometime, so I can see it," he said. "Yes, sir," Kyle said. "Who hired the photographer, Kyle?" I asked. "Was it competitively bid?" "Of course not. I hired him," he said. "He's our friend, and he's the best. Ergo . . ." "Ergo? What is that shit," I asked, teasing him. "I think it's French for 'stands to reason,'" he said. "Did you take a cute pill tonight," I asked. He laughed. "No, but I took a dose of 'cute syrup' this morning," he said. "Quite a big dose, in fact, as I remember it." "Jesus, Kyle," I said. I'm sure I blushed, but he really was cute. The dance started off pretty slowly, and it was obvious a lot of people were there just to get their pictures taken and to see who the Queen would be. We did the crowning after about an hour, and about half the people left right after that. That was when the people who stayed really started dancing. Kyle and I didn't slow dance together the way we did at home or at that gay club we had gone to in New Orleans, but we danced fast together in a group a bunch of times. I took my suit coat off, but Kyle kept his on the whole time. His was pure wool, too, and I knew he had to be hot. He had sweat streaming down his face when we danced fast. "Take your coat off, Babe. You look like you're about to die," I said at one point. "No. My daddy told me a gentleman never takes off his tux coat, no matter how hot he gets," he said. "I think it's punishment for being stupid enough to agree to wear this get-up." I laughed. "Tim, are you as proud of him as I am," Mrs. Ortega, the principal, asked me. "Yes, ma'am. Maybe even a little bit more," I said. "Well, you should be, Tim. He's pretty amazing," she said. "Yes, ma'am," I said. * * * We left the dance at eleven, and we drove back to Kyle's house. His parents had food for us: finger sandwiches, petit fours, nuts, cheese and crackers. That kind of stuff. They had some steamed artichokes, too, and nobody but Kyle ate any of those. He ate three by my count. I was pretty hungry, even though I had eaten a big dinner. They had some kind of sparkling grape juice that looked like wine or champagne but really wasn't. He and I changed into casual clothes in his room. The limo got there just before 11:30. It was white, and it looked like it was a half block long. We had it until 3:30 Sunday morning. Philip was in charge of that, but he wasn't going to do anything without Kyle's okay. "What do you want to do," Philip asked Kyle. "I don't know. What do you want to do?" "We've got it for four hours. Let's just ride around," Philip said. "That sounds good to me," Kyle said. That limo had everything you could imagine. It had an incredible sound system and a stack of CD's that would make a radio station blush. It had a DVD player, with a bunch of DVD's. It had TV. It had radio, of course, but nobody cared about that. It was like a rolling condo, or something. Philip and Kyle talked to the driver, and I didn't hear what they said. We took off, though, and then they broke out the booze. On the first round, everybody had a drink but Barbara. On the second round, everybody had a drink but Barbara and me. "What's the matter, Tim? You're not drinking," Morgan said. "He doesn't like it, Morgan, so I have to drink for him and me, too," Kyle said. Morgan laughed. We stopped, got out, and played a round of Putt-Putt at one of the places on the beach. "Let's go to a bungee place," Philip said. "I want to see this guy bungee jump." He meant Kyle. "It's not a problem, Philip. I've bungee jumped a bunch of times. With you, in fact, and I jumped off the bridge twice," Kyle said. I didn't know what he meant. "Twice," Philip and Ryan both said together. "Out of the back of a pickup truck?" Ryan asked. "Yeah. Me and my brother. Twice. On my Eagle honor. Have you done it yet?" "Yeah, we just did it last summer," Ryan said. "Not this past one, the one before." "Don't do it anymore. It's too dangerous with that new bridge they're building," Kyle said. "I just recently talked to my daddy about this. He said he did it twice, too." "Fuck, Kyle. If you can do it twice, I can do it three times," Ryan said. "Not anymore, Ryan. Nobody can do it anymore until they get the new bridges finished. The one they're working on now will be the one to jump off, and that sucker is way higher than our bridge," Kyle said. "You're still only going to be able to jump off the west-bound bridge." "Did you jump off the west-bound side of our bridge?" Ryan asked. "That's the side we did." "Yeah. That's the only one you can jump off. When I did it, they had that old bridge that was a fishing bridge on the south side of the current bridge. I wasn't hitting that fucker with my head," Kyle said. "Goodson, I'm impressed that you did it twice," Ryan said. "I did it twice, and that's it. I'm not doing it no more, even if you do it three times, Ryan." "We'll see," Ryan said. "Ryan, please don't do it, man. It's too dangerous now. With all that construction? You don't know what's under that water, man," Kyle said. He was pleading with Ryan. "We'll see. Have another drink, Kyle," Ryan said. My God, I thought. Kyle jumped out of the back of a pick-up truck going over that bridge! It had to be twenty stories above the water. And he did it twice! When I drove over the bridge, which was really the only way to get to town, I always stayed in the inside lane. The lanes were narrow, and it had a steel girding at the top in the middle of it that had been filled in with concrete years before. The concrete had contracted through the years, and you could actually see daylight through the floor of the bridge at that spot. If it was the least bit wet, you felt like your car was slipping into the other lane of traffic, but only because it was. They were in the process of building two new bridges across the bay, and each one would have three lanes for cars, an emergency lane, and a pedestrian/bike lane. Each of the two new ones was going to be eighty feet wide, and the current bridge was only sixty-two feet wide, with two lanes in each direction. That sounded about right to me, but the bridge Kyle and the others had jumped off was a monster. And it had concrete light posts every twenty feet. By the time the limo guy dropped us off, Kyle and I were both nearly asleep. Correction: Kyle was asleep. We slept at his house that night, and it was eleven o'clock the next morning before we woke up. We were hot for each other that morning, so we took care of that. Then we went downstairs to see his parents. "Did you boys have a good time after the dance?" his mom asked. "Yes, ma'am. We had a real good time," Kyle said. "We played putt-putt and went bungee jumping," I said. "Kyle, we need to get you and Tim out on the golf course," Gene said. "Yes, sir, I want to, too," Kyle said. "Do you want to play?" "Yeah. You've never played?" I asked Kyle. "He's played off and on since he was eight years old, Tim. You never told him that?" "No, sir. It never came up," Kyle said. "We played St. Andrew's in Scotland when he was twelve, Tim," Gene said. I didn't know too much about golf, but I knew what St. Andrew's was. "You don't talk to your boy, Kyle," Gene said. "Yes, sir, I talk to him a lot. But talking about that kind of stuff is kind of like bragging, don't you think?" "Yeah, I can see how you'd think that it is," Gene said. Two of a kind, I thought.
Jesus Christ! My parents didn't have a fucking clue! Telling Tim I played golf at St. Andrew in Scotland? He had lived in a lot of places, and he had been all over the damn world. We had been to a lot of places, too, but Tim was an international guy. "Kyle, were you embarrassed because your dad said you had played golf at St. Andrew?" he asked. "A little bit," I said. "Kyle, if you're going to be embarrassed in front of me, it's going to have to be because you raped some chick on the courthouse steps, okay," he said. "It can't be because you played golf at some country club." I laughed. I knew it was stupid to feel funny about that, but that was the kind of stuff that rich people did. I knew Tim's dad did alright financially, but he didn't have the kind of money my parents had. The last thing I wanted was for Tim to feel inferior to me. I hated that I had done so good on that damn PSAT test. He said I bubbled up on that test, and maybe I did, but I think it was putting pressure on him, and that was the last thing I wanted. That boy was my life, and nothing mattered more to me than he did. * * * On Monday, everybody was talking about how much fun Homecoming had been. I went to my first period class as usual, and it wasn't more than about ten minutes into the class when they called my classroom from the office to say they needed me to report up there immediately. "What the hell did you do?" Morgan Crawford whispered to me. He sat right next to me. "Damned if I know," I said. I make it a habit of never passing a drinking fountain without getting at least a mouthful of water. We were allowed to have bottles of water in class because it was supposed to be good for your brain or something like that, but I never fooled with carrying water around. I did stop for some every time, though. I did it that morning, too. When I got to the office, the secretary told me to go into Miss Sally's office. When I got in there, I found Bill Harmon, the deputy sheriff who worked at our school as a Resource Officer, this kid named Kent Bishop, and a man and a lady that I figured were Kent's parents. He had been in a couple of classes with me, and I thought he was a pretty nice guy, but he wasn't really a friend of mine. His left arm was in a sling. "Mr. and Mrs. Bishop, this is Kyle Goodson. He's president of our Student Government Association." I shook hands with the two parents. "Kyle, do you and Kent know one another," she asked. "Yes, ma'am. What's up, Kent?" "Hi, Kyle," he said, but we didn't shake hands. "And, of course, you know Deputy Harmon," she said. Bill and I nodded to each other. He was a big guy, probably six feet, two twenty-five. Frankly, I thought he needed to drop a few pounds. He had sort of reddish blond hair, and his face was always red, too. I didn't think he looked all that healthy, and I wondered about his blood pressure. He was a really nice guy, though, and he wanted us all to call him Bill. "Kyle, what we say in this meeting has to be kept strictly confidential. Are you okay with that?" "Yes, ma'am," I said. "After the dance Saturday night some boys or young men attacked Kent and his friend Jason and beat them up. Kent has a broken wrist, and Jason is in the hospital with a concussion," Miss Sally said. Shit, I thought. What the fuck did they do to bring that on? "I'm sorry to hear that. Were they guys from Beachside," I asked. "I didn't recognize them. There were four of them, and it was dark," Kent said. "Do you know why they did it," I asked. "We think it was motivated by hatred," Bill Harmon said. "They were calling Kent and Jason epithets and otherwise being obnoxious." I must have had a puzzled look on my face to match my puzzled mind. "Do you know what that means, Kyle," Miss Sally asked. "No, ma'am," I said. "They were calling them names," she said. Why the hell didn't he say that, I thought. "What'd they call you," I asked. Kent blushed. "They were slang terms for homosexuals," Miss Sally said. There was this real uncomfortable silence all of a sudden. I never thought he might be gay, and I didn't know the Jason kid they were talking about. I felt like they were waiting for me to say something, but I didn't know what to say. I decided to keep my mouth shut until I got some more clues. "The fact is, that potentially turns this into a hate crime," Bill said. "I hate that," I said, without thinking. That made ole Kent laugh, though, even though I hadn't meant it to be funny. That was just an expression everybody used. Again, more silence. Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore. "I feel like y'all want me to say something, but I don't know what to say. I didn't do it, if that's what you're thinking, and I've got witnesses who were with me every minute that night. Till 3:30 in the morning, in fact," I said. I was getting stressed. That made Miss Sally and Bill laugh. "Kyle, we never thought for a minute that you had anything to do with it," she said. "Well, I didn't, and I don't know who did," I said. "I'm wondering about that Hightower boy who was here on campus a couple of weeks ago. Do you remember that, Kyle," Bill asked. "Yes, sir, I remember him." How could I forget that redneck fuck, with the toilet paper glued to his face? "Kent, don't take this wrong, okay, man? But are you and Jason, er, are you guys, er . . ." "Yes," Kent said. "That's cool," I said. "You don't much act gay. I'm gay, too, Kent." "I know, Kyle. Everybody knows that, and nobody cares. Jason and I aren't out to anybody. Or we weren't, I should say," Kent said. "We knew, and we're fine with it, Kyle," his dad said quickly. "They're wonderful boys, and we love Jason like a third son." "Was Jason your date for the dance?" I asked. "Well, yeah," Kent said. "Kent, to tell you the truth, I didn't think there were any guy couples there as couples. I knew there were two or three girl couples, and they slow-danced together and all, but I didn't notice you all," I said. "We were really with a group, until they all left. We didn't slow-dance with each other," he said. Just then there was a call on Miss Sally's phone. She made a face to indicate she was annoyed that her secretary wouldn't have respected the fact that she was in a meeting. She answered it, though. There was no emotion on her face, and she really didn't say anything but "Thank you" just before she hung up. "Two other boys were beaten after the dance, too," she said. "Can you say who, Miss Sally?" She said the names of two boys who were friends of mine. We had all been in scouts together since Cub Scouts, and I knew damn good and well they were both as straight as they come. "Those boys are straight," I said. "I've known them since kindergarten, and I've been in the scouts with them for years. They both have girlfriends who are freshmen in college, one at Alabama, and one at Huntington in Montgomery. The girls couldn't come in for the weekend, and Jeff and Gray just rode together. We talked about it. We wanted them to join our group, but they didn't want to spend money on dinner and the limo since their girlfriends couldn't be here." "But they appeared to be a couple," Miss Sally said. "What did you and Tim do?" "We were in a group of eight, five boys and three girls. We went out to eat at the Boardwalk, then to the dance, then back to my house. My parents had food for us. Then we got in the limo and rode around. We played putt-putt, did some bungee jumping. That's about it," I said. I didn't think the booze was relevant. "Kyle, I'm going to ask you this as a friend and not as the principal of this school. Keep your eyes and ears open, please. Let me or Deputy Harmon know of anything you hear about this, okay," she said. "Yes, ma'am," I said. "Kent, what are you doing for lunch today?" "I usually go out to lunch with Jason," he said. "Nothing today, though." "Meet me in the senior parking lot right after the bell rings, okay? I want you to go to lunch with me and my friends today, okay?" "Cool," he said. * * * Kent had lunch with us that day, and he became a regular member of our circle of friends after that. Jason got out of the hospital in a couple of days, and he came back to school on the next Monday. He joined our lunch crowd, too. There wasn't a table in the place big enough for all of us, so we started eating at two smaller tables. Every day we'd scramble up so that we all had a chance to eat with everybody. Gage and Chad, Philip and Ryan, Tim and I, and Kent and Jason always made it a point to sit at different tables. Denny and Chip always sat together, and Morgan, Blake, and Riley sat wherever they could find a place. We were quite a group, and Mom and Pop Sullivan, the older couple who ran the place, loved us. They had special little bags of treats for us for Halloween, and they cooked a spectacular turkey dinner for us on the Monday of Thanksgiving week. We chipped in and got them one of those Christmas Village houses for Christmas, which they collected and displayed in the restaurant, and Mom Sullivan cried when she opened it. They were so wonderful to us, but that's the way things are in a small beach town when the tourists are gone. We never did find out anything about who might have been responsible for the beatings. Jeff and Gray joined us at lunch from time to time, too, though, and we spent many a lunch talking about what had happened and speculating about who had done it. One Monday Gage was just beside himself with news. "Y'all will never believe what I heard this morning in first period," he said. "What?" I asked. "We can't believe it if you don't tell us." "Hush, Kyle. Ready? Meredith Olson is pregnant, and she got married this weekend in Georgia," he said. "How do you know that?" I asked. "Susan Repak told me. She's her best friend, and she was the maid of honor," he said. He did his fingers like he was making quotation marks when he said the word "maid." Some of 'em laughed, but I didn't know what that was supposed to mean. "Who's the lucky man," Philip said. He did his fingers the same way when he said the word "lucky." I knew what that meant. "Somebody named Mike Hightower," Gage said. "Does anybody know him? I think he's a pipe fitter or a pulp wooder or something. Very blue collar, whatever it is." "I know him. His name is Ike, not Mike, and he's a preacher," I said. "He's the guy Bill Harmon tackled in the parking lot when he came to ream my ass out over the same-sex couples at the Homecoming dance." "And you know what else Susan Repak told me?" He was using his most confidential voice. "This is on the rebound. Supposedly, she's in love with Darryl Harmon. But guess what, boys? Darryl's a fag. He plays for my team." Gage was funny as hell saying all of that. "Bill Harmon's brother? He's gay," Philip asked, astounded. "You missed your chance, Philip," Gage said. We all laughed. "I've seen him naked," Philip said. We laughed hard. "Details, Philip. And I mean details," Gage said. "He has great abs, Gage," Philip said. "And he has a bellybutton ring." "Ryan, teach this boy something, will you please," Gage said. We all laughed hard. "It sounds like my boys are having fun today," Mom Sullivan said when she came to the table to check on us. "Yes, ma'am. We always have fun here," I said. "Are we being too loud?" "Not at all. I'm glad you have fun here," she said. "Pop and I look forward to seeing you boys every day." "Well, we look forward to this great food every day, too, Mom," Philip said. "And to seeing you all, too, of course." "That's for sure," I said. "Chip, I think you've grown, haven't you?" "Yes, ma'am," Chip said. "We used to call him Peanut. Now we call him Gherkin, Grandma. I mean Mom," I said. "Kyle, you're terrible. That's probably why I love you. You boys can call me Grandma all you want to. I hope one day you can meet our grandson, Steve. Chad, you remind me a lot of him," she said. "Bring him on, Grandma. He'll be our friend, too," I said. "I know, Kyle. I know." |