Thirty-Two
SENIOR YEAR
Noah leads me to one of the benches alongside the basketball court. Joel and I both sit, while Noah stands.
“So you guys are—were?—a thing?” I hedge.
“Were,” Noah says softly.
Joel draws his knees up and wraps his arms around them. “I wanted to tell you about a thousand different times. I really did.”
I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Then why didn’t you?”
He pauses, swallowing hard. “Because saying it means there’s no taking it back. And I don’t want to be gay.”
“One of the reasons we’re no longer a thing,” Noah mutters. But then he sits down on Joel’s other side, bumping him to the center of the bench. And takes his hand. Which Joel promptly takes back and slips between his knees.
There are so many things making sense to me now. All the times Joel seemed on the brink of telling me something important, only to back down at the last second. The way he’d look at me, silently begging me to figure it out for myself. His conviction that he was going to let down his father by being human.
He’s happy because I let him keep his delusions.
I hate him.
“Your parents don’t know, do they?” I ask.
Joel snorts. “They know. They’re just happier pretending they don’t.”
“Except you don’t know that, because you’ve never actually sat down and talked to them,” Noah says.
Joel tenses, and I shoot a look past him at Noah, shaking my head.
Noah clears his throat and sits back a little. “Sorry.”
“It’s not . . . it’s not something I’ve always known,” Joel begins. “I mean, maybe part of me did, but I was pretty slow to catch on. I dated a lot of girls—and most of the time there was no reason why it shouldn’t have worked. Except that it never did, and I couldn’t figure out why.” He traces his eyebrow, the way he always does when he’s nervous.
“I thought I was defective. It wasn’t until freshman year that I realized I had a crush on a guy. And it freaked me the hell out. I told myself it was some fluke thing, and I tried to fix it by dating more girls, sleeping with more girls. I completely ignored the question of why they were never enough.”
Joel’s foot starts a nervous thumping against the ground, and he looks at Noah, silently asking him to take over.
“I had a girlfriend at the time,” Noah continues. “For me, being bi wasn’t something that confused me, but the thought of openly being with a guy was one of the few things that ever scared the shit out of me. I’d never taken it past hookups on the down low, and I always figured I’d keep it at that. But then sophomore year, I hurt my knee.” He nudges Joel, and there’s so much tenderness in that small gesture that I have no idea how I never saw what really exists between the two of them. “And this kid got the job of bringing me my assignments while I was out of school.
“We’d never talked much before, but the more time we spent together, the more we clicked. Our dads were both in the service. Our moms are both basket cases. Plus he helped me with my homework, carried my books for me when I was on crutches. And then one day I told him I was sick of being cooped up and on my ass, and he brought me over to the basketball courts at his place so I could walk around for five minutes without my mom having a heart attack. And that night ended pretty much the same way as what you saw a few minutes ago.”
Joel picks up again. “We hooked up a lot after that. And I know my parents suspected, or at least my father did. I’ll never forget the way he looked at Noah the first time he stayed for dinner.”
“Like he wanted to perform an exorcism and then board up the house to keep me from ever getting back inside,” Noah mutters.
Joel turns to me. “You have to understand, Mace. My parents say that people being gay doesn’t ‘bother’ them, but what they mean is that it doesn’t bother them as long as it stays the hell out of their house. They don’t get that tolerating something at arm’s length isn’t acceptance. The same way my dad doesn’t get that I’m not some math problem he can solve for the ‘right’ answer.” He taps his temple. “The logic doesn’t add up.”
“So is that why you broke up? Because you didn’t want to come out to your parents?”
Joel grimaces and glances at Noah, who looks at me. “In the super-oversimplified version, I guess you could say that,” Noah says.
“I didn’t even want to come out to myself,” Joel adds. “But then, toward the end of sophomore year, we knew my dad was going to be deployed again, and my parents decided to sell the house and move here.” He sucks in a deep breath. “And Noah started saying things I wasn’t ready to hear. Talking about coming out, not having to sneak around anymore.”
“I’d broken up with my girlfriend,” Noah interjects. “I came out to my parents. I even brought up moving in with my dad so I could transfer to Ridgedale too. Start over together, you know? I was ready to do whatever.” He turns dark eyes on Joel. “But he wasn’t.”
Joel slumps against the bench. “I waited until summer vacation and then stopped taking his calls. Told him I’d met a girl, said I’d made a mistake. I swore I’d deny every word and use my dad’s connections to get him expelled if he ever told anyone what happened.” He shrugs a heavy shoulder. “I wanted a fresh start too, but not the one he had in mind.”
“Wow,” I breathe. “So I’m guessing this is where the whole restraining order thing comes in?”
Noah scoffs. “I showed up at his house to try to get him to talk to me. Pops didn’t appreciate that. Especially when things got heated and I broke a picture of dear old Granddad.” I must look a little horrified, because he tacks on, “By accident. Geez.”
To my surprise, Joel chuckles wryly. “It was a pretty symbolic thing to break, considering it’s my dad’s favorite weapon in the psychological warfare arsenal.”
“If that’s what he’s doing,” Noah counters.
Joel shoots up from the bench and rounds on us. “It is what he’s doing.” He looks at me. “You wanna know how Noah’s father reacted when he came out to him? Handed him a condom and said, ‘I don’t care who you’re banging as long as you’re safe about it.’ And because it was that easy for him, he thinks it’s that easy for everybody. But my dad knows exactly how to get under my skin, how to make me feel like a failure without ever saying the words.”
He gestures at me. “Like that story he told you about why they named me after my grandfather. He does it to mess with me. That same bullshit line that he says all the time—‘you can do anything you put your mind to’—that’s his way of telling me he knows. He knows he makes me fucking hate what I am, and what he’s really saying is, ‘Fight it, Joel. You don’t have to be something we’re both ashamed of.’ Because he doesn’t want to deal with it, and he doesn’t want to have to face what he is either. He preaches all about love and acceptance and courage. But at the end of the day, he’s still a homophobe with a gay son.”
He falls onto the bench and buries his face in his hands. I hate that he’s been carrying all this on his shoulders and never said a word. Everything could’ve been so different if he’d opened up to me like he wanted to.
“He pulled the same shit in his welcome-back speech at the football game,” Joel continues before I can say anything. “That night, I was going to tell everyone, including him. I couldn’t stand it anymore, and I just wanted to get it over with and make everything right. With you, with Ben, with Noah. I was sick of hiding. So I posted that picture of you and me and Ben to the school’s page, as kind of a placeholder for the conversation I planned to have with you later. I had another picture with me that I’ve never shown to anyone. Except my dad. Only, I didn’t show it to him; he found it while he was snooping through my phone.”
“The picture of my tattoo,” Noah murmurs.
His tattoo?
Joel sits up straighter. “How did you know?”
“Macy found it on the field the next day.”
“You didn’t tell me it was of you,” I say.
Noah turns away from me, using his hand to push his hair up off his neck. Beneath the curtain of his dark locks are the familiar black lines of a fern-shaped snake that, until now, I only saw in a colorless photograph. He lets his hair fall into place, and when he repositions himself, there’s something sad and somber in the lines of his profile.
“Defiance,” he says. “That’s what it stands for. And the shape of the snake is an Adinkra fern that means ‘I am not afraid of you.’ I got it when I made the decision to come out.”
“He wanted me to get the same one,” Joel says quietly. “And I was going to. I printed the picture, but then I thought, maybe I should wait to get the tattoo until I tell everyone. I should’ve known I was giving myself an out.”
Noah looks at me. “I had a feeling that it meant something, you finding that picture. I just didn’t think it was anything good. But then you and Joel had that fight, and I started to wonder if it was a sign that he was coming around. ‘Hoping’ is a better word, I guess.”
Joel’s arm twitches and stretches slightly, and for a second I think he’s going to put it around Noah. But then it falls back at his side, and he continues to fiddle with his hands like he’s not sure what to do with them.
“I had it with me while my dad was making his speech,” Joel says. “I guess I was being superstitious, holding on to it so I wouldn’t chicken out. And I swear to you, it was like he sensed it, and he had to go and shake me up by telling that story about me learning to ride my bike.” He looks up at me, desperation shining in his eyes. “He refuses to see who I really am. And now you know why I hate him for leaving and dread him being home.”
I sigh. “God, Joel. I wish you’d told me.”
“Me too, Mace. When I met you, I knew I liked you. I either wanted you to be the first person I told the truth to, or the person who made it not true anymore.” He snorts a soft laugh. “You can guess which one I went for.” When I’m quiet, he asks, “Do you hate me?”
“I’ll be honest. It’s a shitty feeling, knowing I was used. But hate you because you’re gay? Never.” I motion toward Noah. “I mean, we have the same taste in guys.” They both laugh, and even though I’m glad to lighten the moment, there are more questions lingering. “I have to wonder, Joel. What else have you been keeping from me?”
He looks at me out of the corner of his eye. “Ben and Meredith both know about me. But I’ll let them tell you how.” He looks exhausted all of a sudden, like he can’t take another step now that he’s finally stopped running.
Noah stands abruptly and starts to pace in front of us. “Speaking of Meredith.” He drags a hand through his hair. “I guess this is where I should make a confession of my own.” Joel looks at me, my confusion reflected in his face.
“So I thought Joel was full of it when he told me he’d met a girl,” Noah says. “Or I figured if he had, he was using her and it wouldn’t last. But then I saw the two of you at Snow in Georgia that night, and he actually seemed happy. And even though everything in me knew he wasn’t into girls—” He stops and shakes his head. “Holy shit, Mace, was I jealous of you.” He starts to pace again. “I hated both of you. And I hated myself for being such a goddamn coward. Backing down from anything isn’t my style, but there I was, surrounded by girls myself, covering up that I’d had my heart ripped out by a guy. So I did some things that I’m not proud of.”
“Like?” Joel asks, an urgent edge to his voice.
Noah stops, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts. “I decided I was transferring to Ridgedale whether you wanted me there or not. But that part you know. As for the other part . . . I guess I should just freaking say it.” His eyes dart from Joel to me. “I set the fire in Meredith’s garage.”
“You?” I say at the same time that Joel says, “What?”
Noah kneels in front of me and takes my hands. “It was mostly an accident, and I’m so sorry, Mace. My dad and I ran into Joel that day at the grocery store. While he was picking up your flower for the homecoming dance.”
Joel’s posture stiffens. “Yeah,” he says. “That was the day you totally fucking threw me and told me you were moving in with him and coming to Ridgedale for senior year. You were the reason I couldn’t bring myself to show up that night.”
Noah looks incredulous. “Dude, if I threw you for a loop, you sure as hell didn’t let on. Because believe me, I wanted to ruin your night. I wanted you to be pissing your pants at the thought of having to see me every day. And instead all you did was say you had to pay for your girlfriend’s flower and walk the hell away.” Noah releases my hands and sits on the ground. “I got stupid drunk that night.” He hazards a glance at me. “I overheard you, at the slushie place. Telling Joel that Ben knew where the float was hidden. But you didn’t say where, so I followed you back to Ben’s place in true stalker fashion. Meredith’s parents came home as I was leaving, and I saw it in the garage.”
Oh my God.
After all this time, I finally know for sure. I didn’t open my mouth. And Joel might not have started the fire, but I gave enough away that I still feel like it’s all my fault. I have no idea how I’m going to bring myself to tell Meredith. She forgave Ben when he falsely confessed, but for Meredith, Ben is the exception to everything.
And he knows it. There’s a violent lurch in my stomach as I realize that Ben covered for me.
I can only imagine what my face looks like, because Noah quickly adds, “Don’t think I’m saying you’re to blame in any way, Mace. You didn’t force me to go over there the night of the homecoming dance. You didn’t know Meredith’s dad was going to leave the garage door cracked open because he’d been touching up the paint, and you sure as hell didn’t make me sit on that float feeling sorry for myself or put the bottle of vodka in my hand. I did all that. The same way I spilled half of it into the trash before I threw in the cigarette. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
“You know everyone assumed I did it, right?” Joel spits out.
“I do now. It was one of the things I wanted to tell you tonight. I had no idea you’d skipped out on the dance until Macy told me. Trust me, I feel even shittier knowing you took the blame.”
Joel stands, his hands clenched at his sides. “That’s exactly what you wanted. You came here to make my life hell, and now you expect me to believe that you feel bad about it? Seems to me like everything played out exactly the way you planned, right down to the way you used Macy to get back at me.” Joel turns to me. “He hasn’t gotten to that part yet. But in case you thought he really cared about you, he doesn’t.” He turns back to Noah. “I don’t think he cares about anyone but himself.”
He’s halfway across the lawn in three strides, and Noah and I both jump to our feet.
“You know that’s not true,” Noah calls after him. “No matter what I told myself about moving here to get back at you”—his voice rises in volume and urgency as Joel continues to retreat—“I just wanted to be with you.”
Joel stops, then looks up at the sky. When he turns around, every wall he let down in the past half hour is firmly back in place. “I can’t, okay? I’m sorry.”
Noah makes a move like he’s going to take off after Joel, but I put my hand on his arm. “Give him some space,” I say.
Noah releases a frustrated, primal grunt into the air before collapsing onto the bench. I sit down next to him, waiting for him to get his bearings. After a long, quiet moment, he says, “I really fucked up, Mace.”
“I think we’ve all made our share of mistakes.”
“I’ll talk to Meredith if you want. I won’t say anything about how I knew the float was in her garage. I’ll lie if I have to. It’s the least I can do.” He reaches over to take my hand, and I let him. “Joel’s right, you know. I mean, not totally right. But he wasn’t wrong when he said I wormed my way into your life to get a rise out of him.” His thumb runs along the inside of my wrist, the same way he touched me at Old Mill Park when he kissed me. Only, this time it’s different—not a come-on but an apology. “I came to Ridgedale thinking the two of you were together. But then when I saw that you weren’t even speaking, I thought I could screw with him by getting close to you. Make him jealous, because he knew I at least had a chance at falling for you.”
I nod, but I’m finding it hard to look at him. “In other words, you used me.”
He sandwiches my hand between both of his. “At first, yes. And you have no idea how sorry I am. Because I really am your friend, Mace. It’s why I backtracked after I asked you to homecoming, and why I stopped lying about that kiss—I knew I was being a sadistic little prick, and I couldn’t do that to you.” He stops short and says something that he’s said to me before. “I like you. I do.”
I lay my other hand on top of his. “You like me,” I say with a shrug. “But you love him.”
Noah laughs, one quiet, incredulous note. “Yeah,” he says. “Probably could’ve saved myself a lot of trouble if I’d just opened with that.”
And then, because it wouldn’t be Noah if he wasn’t taking me completely by surprise, he lays his head in my lap and starts to cry.