Chapter 2
Mateo asks, “Can I guess on music? Ed Sheeran? Harry Styles?”
Destiny grins and nods, “Both of them.”
I have to defend myself here, “Excuse me. In the car I’m always driving and you three always control the music.” My voice has risen an octave. “I am not a Harry Styles fan!”
Destiny says, “Except he totally is. He hums and sings along,” she winks at me.
Wes is laughing too hard to eat. “Methinks he doth protest too much.”
“It is pretty sus that he would react so strongly,” Mateo points out.
That makes them laugh harder.
“Sus,” I palm my face. “I have no real friends here.”
Destiny squeezes my hand under the table. I’m kidding of course. I have the best friends in the world.
Mateo asks, “Who else then? Post Malone? Billie Eilish? Wait! Oh my god! Is he a Swiftie?”
Destiny has tears coming out of her eyes and my cheeks are burning a crimson red. The three of them are enjoying it way too much.
As Operation Humiliate Dylan winds down, we focus on the rad feast Mateo has prepared for us. After devouring everything, we’re stuffed.
Wes leans back and rubs his belly. I can’t help but notice Mateo is watching him.
Wes says, “Mateo, that was so extra.”
I warn, “Don’t start that shit again…”
Mateo picks up the cue, “Did I flex too much? Was I too thirsty? The last thing I wanted was to be basic.”
I can’t help but smile, “Fuckers.”
Destiny loves this, “I ate way too much, but YOLO, right?”
Wes says, “Mateo, TBH, I’m a little salty right now.”
“You throwing me some shade?”
I drop my head, “Just don’t.”
Destiny can’t stop laughing.
“It’s just that all we have is the mall and our favorite place is Chili’s, right? I always order fajitas. Your taco night has ruined Chili’s for me forever.”
Mateo puts a gentle hand on Wes’ shoulder, “I’ll tell you what, Wes. I’ll make it up to you by hosting taco night every month.”
“Make it twice a month and I’ll forgive you.”
Mateo grins, “Deal.” He turns to me, “I’m actually still a noob when it comes to cooking.”
I groan. And not from the taco boulder in my belly. “No one ever says these words! Some of them aren’t even real words. Kids don’t actually talk this way!” I yell. “And I am NOT a Swiftie!”
Destiny chortles, “Why’s Dylan so cranky? He ate way too much to be hangry.”
Wes says, “Seriously Mateo, thanks for this. While I’m living through hell tomorrow, I’ll be remembering tonight.”
“What’s happening tomorrow?” he asks.
I reach over and give Wes’ shoulder a squeeze as Destiny explains, “Wes has only been ‘out’ to everyone in his family for a few weeks. Tomorrow is the first big family gathering since he… It’ll be his first time seeing all his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, his cousins… Many of whom are not particularly openminded.”
“Homophobic assholes is what they are.” Wes says.
Destiny gets up and kisses Wes on the forehead. Then she picks up his wrist and checks his pulse like a nurse. She turns to me and says, “Doctor, he’s slipping into a taco coma!”
Destiny holds his hand, “We talked about this, sweetie. Anyone who doesn’t love you for you just doesn’t matter.”
I say, “Seriously, dude. It’s their loss, not yours.”
Destiny gives his hand a squeeze and kisses his cheek.
It’s the next night. My phone chimes a text and reading my screen, I let out a huge sigh of relief. My cousin Hayden is on his way home. I look down at the sofa. My best friend is sprawled out where I dropped him after practically carrying him out of my car and into my house. He’s a tangle of splayed limbs and only half conscious. I tug down where his shirt bunched up after I dragged him in the house. He groans.
Wes is bombed. It’s only alcohol – no drugs, but still. He’s scaring the hell out me. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have alcohol poisoning or anything, but I’m just a kid. What the fuck do I know? I really need an adult here. Someone I can trust. That someone is Hayden.
He walks in the door right at 10:00 carrying two big bags of McDonald’s. Despite my worry, the smell makes my teenage stomach growl. Together we carry Wes to the kitchen table. He starts the coffee maker and hands me a bottle of water from the fridge.
“The coffee will take a minute. Get him started on the water now. We need to make sure he’s well-hydrated. And see if he can eat too. What happened?”
Hayden’s confidence and take-charge demeanor already have me feeling relieved. He knows what to do. Everything will be okay. I tell him, “Wes had a big family thing tonight. It was the first one since he ‘came out’ to them.”
Hayden meets my eye and that’s all I need to say about it. He nods, “Obviously it went as badly as it could in Schitt’s Creek.”
“Homophobic assholes,” he says and I smile.
“Since he and Mateo each had separate family things, it was just me and Destiny hanging out tonight. Wes had been texting us updates. He was tolerating their bullshit as much he could. I knew he had driven separately to his grandparents’ house because he planned to meet up with us afterwards, but when one of his cousins took the torment too far – I won’t even tell you the disgusting thing he did – Wes bolted. His parents didn’t even realize he’d left. Then we didn’t hear anything from him for over an hour. He ended up driving home and breaking into his dad’s liquor cabinet. He drank two bottles of who knows what and walked to the park before eventually calling me. I drove Destiny home and picked up Wes before the police could find him and arrest him. I brought him here.”
“Liquor cabinet?” Hayden says. “Who still has a liquor cabinet? This sounds a little like an after school special from the 80’s.”
He says, “Dig in kid, I bought plenty of food.”
The food must be absorbing some of the alcohol because Wes is coming back to life. He has already inhaled a whole Big Mac. My stomach growls again. I sift through the bags finding another Big Mac, two 10-piece McNuggets and two large fries. I tell Hayden, “You should get in on some of this.”
He shakes his head. “I’m not eighteen anymore. If I ate that crap this late at my age, I’d be awake all night and have five extra pounds of flab around my belly in the morning.”
He sets a mug of steaming coffee in front of Wes and puts a hand on each of our shoulders. “I couldn’t be prouder of both of you.”
I shrug. “My best friend needed me so I showed up for him. No big deal. Not exactly heroic.”
He scoffs, “You were there tonight the same way you’ve been there for him for four years. Plus, you recognized that you needed an adult and you called me. You trusted me. You did everything right tonight, Dylan.”
I look down at the table and somehow, most of the food is gone. For the first time since I found him in the park, Wes speaks, “Why the hell are you proud of me?”
Hayden takes Wes’ face in his hands, angling his head and forcing eye contact. “Wesley Harding, I will give four reasons why I’m proud of you. One: You are proudly and bravely living your truth. Two: Despite being a star athlete, you refrained from punching out your ignorant relatives. Three: Once you started drinking, you were smart enough to not get back behind the wheel of your car. Four: You realized you needed help and you called the right person.”
One tear escapes from Wes’ right eye and Hayden pulls him into a hug.
Hayden says, “Food, check. Water, check. Coffee, check. Next, he’ll need a cold shower.”
I let out a sigh of relief when Wes stands on his own.
“Dylan, can you call Wes’ parents and let them know that their son is safe but he’s upset and would like to spend the night here?”
Wes says, “Thanks Mr. Speer.”
Hayden smiles, “You are welcome here any time. Unless you call me Mr. Speer again. Then you’ll be out on your ass.”
Wes snorts, “And I’m never Wesley.”
“Deal.” Hayden turns to me, “Please go with him. He’s on his way back but we don’t need him slipping and cracking his skull open in the shower.”
I give Hayden a hug before mounting the stairs with my drunk best friend.
After hours of relentless torture, I’m ready to move on from his adorable feet. He’s supposed to be naked, right? And he said his arms don’t work. I’ll just have to take his shirt off for him. I leave the foot of the bed and move up to my next target. I haven’t touched him yet and he’s already chortling. He tells me that I’m doing it again. I’m tickling him with my eyes. He hasn’t caught his breath yet from what I put his poor feet through and his chest is heaving.
I begin to slowly and methodically unbutton his shirt. I’m not sure if he shaves, or if he’s naturally hairless, but I like what I see. Actually, I crave it. Each rib bone is clearly defined as each button comes undone. The nameless, faceless boy is not so much a boy, he’s a man. And an athlete like me. I finish the last button and spread open the shirt. There are muscles and contours and curves and valleys and mounds in all the right places. He has a gentle musky scent that is driving me as wild as the sight of his gorgeous body.
Despite all of the toning and musculature, his stomach appears to be soft and vulnerable – just the way I desire it. Looking at it makes him laugh again. Stop it, he demands of me. He has no idea of what I’m capable of doing to all of his vulnerable places. He is thin and fit. His round innie navel is calling out for attention. I start up by his shoulders and caress my fingers down around his pecs, playing with his nipples. He explodes in laughter.
I prod my fingers into his sides, strumming the ribs and poking the soft tissue below. He howls and begs for mercy. This is not his lucky day. But it is mine. The waistband of his designer underwear clings to his lower abdomen about two inches above the waistband of his jeans. This is obnoxiously endearing, loveable and cute. And irresistible. I rake my fingers side to side across that lower belly and it’s like I’ve electrocuted him. His whole body shakes and quakes as his laughs turn to screams. Even through his thick jeans, I can’t help but notice that he has a burgeoning erection. This is proof that he’s enjoying what I’m doing. And if that’s simply an involuntary response and I am in fact torturing him, then too fucking bad. He asked for it by playing his games.
That beautiful innie belly button is calling to me. I’ve already molested it with my fingers, now I need to kiss it, lick it, bite it–
And now I’m awake. Dylan tried to be quiet, but the door creaked as he tiptoed out of his bedroom.
“He’s lucky to have you too,” Hayden says to me over breakfast the next morning that he insists if I eat will cure my hangover. Dylan is upstairs taking a shower.
“We all know I’m the lucky one. My sexuality hasn’t changed a thing in our friendship. He stands right there next to me almost daring anyone to say something.”
“I heard things were okay at school when you came out.”
“Yeah. I was terrified at first. In a school of 600, I was the only one ‘out’. I couldn’t have taken that step without Dylan, really all three of them, by my side.” I get lost looking out the window for a moment. “From the beginning, Dylan told me that he looked it up and at least 10% of high school kids today are gay. He said some reports say that as many as 20% of teenagers identify as something other than heterosexual. He said that along with the three of them, I have 60 to 120 invisible friends supporting me at school.”
Hayden smiles, “That’s awesome.”
“He has no idea how good that made me feel.” I rub my face, “You know what else he does?”
“My very heterosexual best friend picks out hot guys for me.”
I laugh, “It’s not real. It’s just a game we play. Wherever we are, in the school cafeteria, at the mall, at the beach… He picks out hot guys for me and I pick out hot girls for him. I have to remind him that only 10 to 20% of his picks are actually queer. He says he wants all the best-looking guys to be gay. It’s a win-win for both of us. I will be deliriously happy and his toughest competition for the ladies will be playing for the other team.”
Breakfast is over. Hayden, Wes and I are talking in the living room when the door opens. Destiny. Wes and I both stand, but Destiny rushes right past me and practically tackles Wes in a hug. “OMG you scared the shit out of us!” She looks sheepishly at Hayden. “I mean crap. You scared the crap out of us.”
Destiny squeezes every bit of air out of Wes’ lungs for a full minute before letting him go. “Wesley Harding, don’t you ever pull a stunt like that again.” Then she grabs him and hugs him all over again, “You know how much we love you, right? We can’t ever lose you.”